#(i have no clue how to express my feelings through the screen but imagine I’m shaking you by the shoulders/pos)

[thedndgoblinwholivesinyourwalls]

aha! a deity au terrow be upon ye! (throws this at u and runs away)

AKDHKDHDOD THANK YOU???!!! THEY LOOK SO CUTE IN YOUR STYLE OMGGDGDGD- SPARROW’S HAIR AGRHDHD AND THE STARS ON TERRY ANDJDJHFJDKD

[atinylittlepain]

ok so given that the oscars just happened, imagine a joel x actress!reader. before everything went to shit joel was a normal human being who loved watching movies and like any basic person had a celebrity crush. fast forward and the world has gone to shit and joel and ellie (and maybe tommy too) go on a patrol that goes wrong and get saved by miss “i just smashed a guys head in with my oscar” or something like that, just a fluff and fun imagine that isnt gonna break my heart in a million pieces like last nights episode

oh my god, your mindddddd - I love this idea :)

Big Fan

Joel Miller x actress!reader

Joel Miller masterlist

Joel recognizes her right away. After all, she starred in his favorite movie of all time.

warnings | 18+ a little angst, nothing wild, this is fluff through and through

Read part two!

.......................

“Are you–”

“I am.”

“You were in–”

“I was.”

“Well I’ll be damned.” 

“Alright, somebody better start speaking in full sentences, because I have no clue what the hell is going on.” Joel huffs, glancing at Ellie who's looking at him like he’s gone crazy, her gun still cocked at the woman in front of them.

“What? You don’t recognize her, kid? I just showed you Curtis and Viper.” Ellie’s brow furrows, but then she looks back at the woman and her eyes finally widen in recognition.

“Holy shit.” The woman laughs, eyes still focused on the barrel of Ellie’s gun.

“That’s not usually the movie people recognize me from. But I suppose it was my big break.” Joel nudges Ellie, muttering for her to put her “damn gun away, jesus christ,” and she quickly tucks it back in her belt.

He’s trying to not be weird right now, they did just kill five clickers together, but he’s finding it hard not to lose his cool over the woman who had been a silly crush of his since he first saw that cheap action movie as a teenager. He knows she did much better films afterward, remembers hovering behind the couch one night while Sarah was watching one of those awards shows, lingering just a bit longer when he saw her giving an acceptance speech with a blinding smile in a dress that probably cost more than his house. She’s certainly less elegant-looking now, but even after twenty years in a world like this, he can’t help the quick kick of his heart at actually meeting this woman in the flesh.

He clears his throat, also trying to clear his mind.

“Are you alone?” She sighs, wiping the blade of her knife on her jeans before sliding it back into its sheath.

“I wasn’t, and then I was. We were headed toward a settlement we heard about, I think a bit further north from here?” Joel keeps his expression steady, but can feel Ellie glancing at him. Movie star or not, he knows they have to be careful about who finds out about Jackson. But apparently, this woman isn’t just pretty, and she seems to pick up on the heavy pause after what she said.

“Do you two know about the place I’m talking about? Are we close?” Joel, sighs, looking at Ellie before making a decision that Tommy is probably going to smack him for later.

“We, um– we’re from there, actually. If you’re talking about where I think you’re talking about.” She huffs out a laugh, and offers them that megawatt smile Joel remembers seeing on his TV screen. Ellie, meanwhile, scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she glares at Joel.

“No shit. Do you think you have room for one more?” Joel’s eyes dart once more to Ellie, just seeing the subtle shake of her head, but he chooses to ignore it. How could he say no to the woman who had, embarrassingly, been one of his first wet dreams?

“You’ll have to talk with my brother, but I’m sure you’ll be welcome to stay on.” Megawatt, megawatt, megawatt. He reckons that smile could melt steel beams.

…

“Joel, what the fuck–”

“Ellie–”

“No, what are you thinking? If not Tommy, Maria’s gonna be so pissed she’ll probably cut your balls off.” He shushes the girl, glancing ahead at the woman hiking further in front of them.

“Look, she’s all alone– hardly a threat– and she’s looking for somewhere to stay–” She scoffs.

“Oh, so this has nothing to do with the way your eyeballs practically popped out of your head just looking at her?” He grumbles, hand tightening around the strap of his rifle.

“You just mind your own business, alright? I’ll take care of it.” Ellie huffs, starting to trudge further ahead of him, but not before muttering out “whatever you say, fanboy.” Joel is stunned still by her words.

“Where the hell did you get that word from?” She turns on her heel, walking backwards for a beat as she smirks at him.

“One of those old magazines. Pretty sure she was on the front page if you wanna borrow it.” Before he can get a word in edgewise, she’s already turning back around and continuing their hike back to Jackson.

…

“Holy shit. Joel, look who it is!” Joel grunts, nudging Tommy out of his starstruck stupor.

“Yeah, I know. Just hiked five miles with her.” Tommy laughs, slapping him on the back before grinning at her.

“It’s real nice to meet you. You know, Joel here had your poster on his bedroom wall–” The nudge he gives his brother this time is a little less friendly, causing Tommy to grumble and rub his arm. She, however, takes it in stride, laughing lightly as she shifts in her boots.

“I’m flattered, really. It’s, um, it’s nice to meet you, Tommy.” Tommy’s eyes go wide.

“I can’t believe you just said my name. This is crazy–”

“Tommy.” Joel cuts his brother off with a hard look before he embarrasses himself anymore. He clears his throat, seeming to get a hold of himself as Joel continues.

“She had been traveling with a group, looking for this place. She’s the only one left though. Was hoping to join the town.” Tommy grins again, glancing between her and Joel.

“Well, I’m sure we can make that happen. I think Joel would kill me if I didn’t let–” He squeezes Tommy’s shoulder hard, willing him to shut his mouth. 

“That little house next to ours is still empty. Why don’t we set her up there?” Tommy’s smile at his brother’s words is all too smug for Joel’s taste, but he still nods, turning his attention back to her.

“If that’s alright with you, ma’am. I’ll let the folks know to turn the gas and electric back on for that place.” She smiles brightly at that.

“That would be amazing. Thank you so much. I owe you all big time.” Tommy snorts.

“I’m pretty sure you can pay Joel back with an autograph, he’d probably cre—“ Joel’s heard enough, resorting to kicking Tommy in the ankle to shut him up. Ellie huffs from where she’s watching their pathetic display.

“Alright, well if you two freaks are done making fools of yourselves, I’ll show her over to that house.” 

…

When Joel gets home, the first thing he does is look at that DVD. He had found it a week or two ago on a patrol shift, left in a hollowed-out RV. Ellie was less than impressed and Maria refused to show it at movie night because it’s so gory, but he held onto it anyways. He can still remember going to see it in the theater with Tommy, both of them too young to get in if not for their friend working the ticket booth. He flips the case over in his hands, and sure enough, there she is on the back cover, looking impossibly beautiful while firing a machine gun. What’s not to like, right?

He’s broken out of his revelry by the sound of the front door opening, and soon enough, Ellie is stomping up the stairs to come looking for him. When she finds him in his bedroom, sitting on the end of his bed, she glances at the DVD he’s holding, a grin spreading over her face.

“Just like you remember, huh, old man?” He grumbles, getting up to set the movie back on the bookshelf before turning back to Ellie.

“She settling in alright?” She hums, nodding lightly.

“Yep, made a beeline for a shower. Told me to thank you. I told her you’d be coming around for your autograph later.” His face crumples in indignation while Ellie lets out a cackle.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But in all seriousness, I think she’s interested– in you– which pains me to even say, but, I figure you deserve to know that the woman of your pubescent dreams was asking questions about you.” Joel’s jaw goes slack, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

“She– she was asking about me?” Ellie nods around a smirk.

“Mmhmm. And I told her you’re a grumpy old bum who doesn’t take kindly to strangers.” He huffs, but she laughs again.

“Sorry, kidding again. I didn’t tell her much. Just that you’ll be around. But if I were you, I’d “be around” sooner rather than later, before the rest of Jackson gets a piece of her. Snatch her up before there’s sweeter bait to bite down on, you know?” He thinks briefly that he needs to see just what sort of magazines this kid is reading, because he can’t quite believe what’s coming out of her mouth. He grumbles, shaking his head at her antics.

“There ain’t gonna be any snatching going on. Just mind your–” She huffs, already walking out of his room.

“Mind my business, yeah, yeah, I know. But think about what I said, old man. Better cast your line quick for this one. My guess is you weren’t the only one who had her poster in your bedroom back before.” 

He’s not letting that kid read magazines anymore.

…

When he steps out on his porch later in the afternoon, fully intent on what Ellie has affectionately started calling his “adult nap time,” he’s interrupted by someone calling his name. He catches sight of her sitting on the porch of the little house next door, waving and smiling at him like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Hey, neighbor.” He tentatively waves back, but that doesn’t seem to satisfy her as she motions for him to join her. He sighs, rather stiffly walking over to her porch and joining her on the bench seat, keeping a very respectable distance between them. Clickers, raiders, general imminent danger, he can handle. Pretty lady? That’s touchy. Pretty lady who he imagined marrying as a teenager? Just put him out of his misery already. He knows it’s ridiculous, that none of that matters now. She’s just as worn and weathered as the rest of them by this crumbled world. But that smile she keeps flashing him might just bring him to his knees.

“I wanted to thank you– for bringing me along. I was, uh, starting to lose hope back there a little bit.” He nods, glancing at her.

“No need for thanks. Just the right thing to do in this world. I’m sorry– about your group. I don’t know what happened, but that couldn’t have been easy being out there on your own.” She shrugs, waving off his sentiment.

“It was barely a group to begin with. Just some folks who happened to get out of the San Francisco QZ together.” His brain is quickly trying to knit together the movie star he remembers from the past and this woman who sits before him now, an obvious edge to her.

“Were you in California? Back when everything…” She nods, her face set in a grim look.

“LA, where else? Now that was a nightmare. I bet the only worse place to be when everything went down was New York. Bodies everywhere. Don’t think I’ll ever forget it.” She lets out a humorless laugh before glancing at him.

“That movie you like so much? I remember when I got the role, I had no idea how I was gonna pull it off. Grizzled heroine with a dark past and a penchant for violence. I was nothing like her. But now, I feel a whole lot more like her and a whole lot less like me.” She sighs, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I dumped that on you.” Joel is quick to shake his head, leaning over his thighs to catch her gaze.

“No, no. I get it– in my own way, I guess. The world changed and– we had to change with it.” That coaxes a crooked smile out of her as she looks at him. A simple silence descends between them as they share quiet smiles. She finally giggles, scrunching her nose at him.

“That girl– Ellie? I think she said something about you wanting an autograph?” Joel can feel the hot blush creeping up his neck as his face goes slack. She just splits out in a laugh, tipping her head back in delight.

“I’m sorry, I’m kidding. But, you know, what I went by, what people still call me, that isn’t my real name.” Joel’s eyebrows quirk up and she sighs, shaking her head.

“Just a stage name. I don’t really mind people calling me that, but can I tell you my real name?” He can feel the smile tugging at his mouth as he nods. Before he knows what she’s doing, she’s taking his hand into her lap, slowly tracing out her name with her finger across his palm. An autograph, of sorts. He’s pretty sure his brain short-circuits, just barely stringing together her name as she finishes. He murmurs it lowly and she offers him her brightest smile yet, still holding his hand lightly in her own.

“And you’re Joel, right?” He’s only a little embarrassed by how quickly he nods.

“Mmhmm. Miller– Joel Miller, yep.” She lets out a breathy laugh, now clasping his hand in a firm shake.

“It’s nice to really meet you, Joel Miller.” 

[mvltisstuff]

Hey there! Idk if you write stuff like this, but what about an Evan Buckley coma fic? When he’s trying to come back he finds out reader is pregnant, while in the coma, and then when he wakes up he tells her he knows. If not that’s totally okay! 💛

put a little love on me - e.b

summary: request:)

evan buckley x reader

a/n: this was so fun to write, i loved how creative this is!

sitting in the hospital room with maddie and the buckley parents, y/n’s red eyes had cried more tears than ever. watching buck swing between life and death had been one of the lowest points in her life. she’s faced bad things before, but this was hell. she had a strong hold on his hand, praying that he would breathe on his own.

she thinks back to a few nights before, casually sitting at home after days of feeling ill. her husband had been at work, and she had called out from constant headaches. her curiosity had gotten the best of her.

pulling out a box from the back of the cabinets, she took the test out and placed it on the counter. she waited for what felt like hours for the damn test to say a word or two. the flashing was intolerable on the small screen.

she was sitting on the cold tile of their bathroom, running her hand through her hair. she swears she’s a patient person, but this was completely different. she stared at the test before the one word had been displayed across the test. pregnant.

meanwhile, bucks head had been mixed with his imagined life. a confused mix of the life he always wished for as a boy, and the one now that he wouldn’t change for anything. everything he had known had changed, for worse and for better. he felt loved by his parents, but y/n was gone.

the ghost of himself had his eyes painted on his still body. he was ready to climb back into himself, wanting to be with his wife until the end. everything else wasn’t important in this version of his life. he looked over at his brother, who he had no clue of before the last few years. he was tired, he wanted to stop fighting but seeing y/n’s heartbroken self on the chair, how could he stop?

“you have everything you could imagine here,” his brother says.

“no i don’t, i have to go back,” buck tells him. “i need my wife, i need y/n.”

he turns around and spots her behind him. she had a bright smile on his face, and was holding a little boy in her arms. she had been laughing with this child, and her eyes were shining. buck stared at them, looking at the boy with the same light blue eyes and full, pink lips. he had a small grin grow on his face, as the boy looked at him and smiled. the second he blinked, they faded away.

buck didn’t even feel the need to look at his brother again. he knew that was his life that he just saw, his future. the feeling he felt in his heart was something that had never happened before.

without second guessing himself. buck smashed through the glass window of the false reality he had snuck into. on the other side, y/n watched as his chest abruptly rose and fell again, the monitor beeping steadily. a light sob of relief left her lips, her head falling down with the tears on her cheeks. the same with maddie, who had come over and gave her a massive hug. suddenly, the lump in her throat and the boulder in her chest had vanished. he was going to be ok. she lifted his hand with her own, kissing the matching rings.

after an agonizing wait, buck had opened his eyes and softly spoken back. his monotone expression had finally disappeared at the sight of the love of his life sitting next to him. he forced out a toothy grin at her. “welcome back, baby.”

buck didn’t know what to say, something felt different. he looked her up and down, and felt a rising anxiety in his chest. he knew that the lightning has changed him, and he’d never be the same, but there was still a gift hiding under all this. “i know,” he says with a raspy voice.

“what?”

“baby, i know,” he says, smiling once more. “i’m gonna be a dad, and you’re a mom. and we’re going to be perfectly ok.”

it was y/n’s turn to be speechless. she was still calculating how he would know in his head. she hasn’t told a soul, but the ecstasy of the moment had overwhelmed her. her eyes had become glossy for the millionth time, and she passionately kissed him. she nods before she speaks again.

“yeah, yeah we are, buck.”

[reidamancy]

too late || spencer reid

summary: Spencer and you never got closure after you broke up. But hidden feelings and confessions reveal themselves when you’ve been abducted. Now Spencer is forced to analyze a voicemail you left for him to try and save you before it’s too late. (spencer reid x fem!reader)

category: angst

warnings: s2 spoilers, kidnapping, knife and gun usage, slight mentions of blood and drugs, plot holes, probably incorrect medical info

word count: 4.4k

a/n: this is my very first cm fic, and I’m completely new to the fandom so I hope there are still people out there who read cm fics lol

MASTERLIST

(part one | part two)

Spencer’s POV

“Spencer?” Her voice breathed shakily through the voicemail.

Y/N. I recognized her voice immediately. For a split second I was filled with bliss just from the sound of her voice, but my heart dropped when I recognized the terror laced in her words.

She paused for a bit before continuing. “Hi, it’s me. I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to hear from me right now,” She choked on a sob, but little did she know that was furthest from the truth. “But I didn’t know who else to call.” Another pause. 

I leaned forward in my seat, resting my arms on my desk while listening intently to the message. 

“I... I’m in trouble Spencer. I don’t know who he is. He took me from my car and brought me here. He made me call you because he knows,” She took a deep breath before letting out a sob. “He knows you will never save me in time.” By now, her voice came out as a squeak. My breath caught in my throat as my worst nightmare came true.

“No, Spencer, wait, please listen to me.” I shut my eyes and exhaled. I pinched the bridge of my nose; she must have had to pretended I answered the phone, and I wasn’t there when she needed me most.

She sniffled on the phone and continued.

“I don’t know how much time I have left... So I guess this is goodbye Spencer...” I felt my heart shatter as tears pricked my eyes. 

“When we met, I knew exactly where I was in life. But you, you changed that. You taught me so much, Spencer. I remember all the games we'd play when you were home.” Y/N paused as she left out a sigh. A sad smile crept on my face as I recalled our shared competitive nature and the countless games that sprung from it. I could only imagine her expression mirroring my own as she spoke. “You'd always win but I guess that's what happens when you play against Dr. Reid. I still think you forgot two dozen names just to let me win.” She let out a dry laugh. 

“The last time I saw you was on our anniversary, June 6. 9:30 on the dot. And then you abandoned me Spencer, you left me alone in the big, cold world.” She took a breath and I let out a small gasp when I heard the sound of a gun cocking in the background.

“I told myself I'd never forgive you, but the truth is I already have. I can't leave without you knowing that. Please save me, Spencer.” She whispered the last line before the phone was yanked out of her hands, evident by the small yelp and shuffling I heard, and the voicemail ended with a low growl saying, “You’ll never get here in time.”

The voicemail ended and the fear I felt from before melted into rage. I knew exactly what I had to do. Phone in hand, I marched straight into Hotch’s office.

Reader’s POV

The man snatched the phone out of my hands and quickly hung up on the call before redirecting his gun at me. He had it pointed at me the entire call and cocked it once he was getting impatient.

The worst part was he didn’t bother to hide his face. He had bound my arms and legs together, but never blinded me. I knew exactly where I was and who he was, which only meant one thing: I wasn’t getting out of here alive. 

My abductor shot at the ground and I let out a scream. “That was a bit long now, wasn’t it?” He sneered.

“You’re gonna kill me! I had to say goodbye properly!” I sobbed. 

It was partly true. What he didn’t know, however, was the fact that I had an FBI agent for an ex-boyfriend, and a genius one at that. I haven’t spoken to him in months, but I prayed that he would understand the hidden clues I left in the voicemail. I hated how this was our first interaction since our breakup, but I needed him now more than ever. 

I’ve wanted to call him countless times; it’s almost ironic that it took a literal kidnapping for me to finally do so. In the wake of our breakup, I found myself completely miserable. I missed everything about him, and I caught myself staring at his phone number on my screen numerous times, contemplating if I should actually call him or not. I wanted to, I really wanted to. I wanted to tell him how much I missed his voice, his touch, his love. But every happy memory we had would then be overshadowed by stronger memories of him snapping at me, being repulsed by my touch, and his mood swings. So I never got the courage to push the dial button. 

It was a never ending cycle. I’d want to call him; perhaps I wanted to try to fix things one more time. I knew something was wrong, maybe I could have done more to help him. But then I would realize I couldn’t help him unless he let me. So I’d always end up deleting the digits on my screen and hope he was doing okay. But days later I’d find myself punching in those exact digits once again, only to delete them minutes later. In time, I had memorized his number by heart, which is why it was almost instinctive to dial him today.

The fact that he was an FBI agent was the last thing on my mind when I pushed call. I just needed him, I needed Spencer. It felt wrong, after months without speaking I thought we had both moved on. But he was the first person I thought of when given an instrument to cry for help. And as soon as I heard his voicemail, as soon as I heard his voice, I realized I needed more than Dr. Reid. I needed Special Agent Reid.

I tried to remember everything I could from the few times Spencer would talk to me about his cases. If I could understand this unsub like he and his team could, maybe I could survive. But the more I remembered, the quicker I realized my chances of survival were slim. He’s way too confident for me to have been his first victim. He gave me the freedom to call whoever I wanted and say whatever I wanted, and he wouldn’t have done that if he knew he wouldn’t get caught. So the phone call must be part of his signature, but why? Why give that much freedom to his victims at all? Maybe he just likes to hear the pain in our voices when we say goodbye.

No, it has to be more than that. Right before I dialed Spencer, the man told me, “Make sure they answer.” And that’s when it hit me. He must take pleasure in knowing his victim’s loved ones are aware of what’s happening but can’t save them. He’s stripping them of their power to help, to save, their loved ones. I hope that isn’t the case for me. I didn’t want to call Spencer (okay, maybe deep down in my heart, I did), because he made it very clear he wanted nothing to do with me. But if anyone could save me, it was Spencer Reid.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when my abductor leaned in front of me, his putrid breath fanning over my face. I noticed his gun was now in his holster and one of his hands was behind his back. He slowly pulled it out to reveal a knife and he placed the blade against my arm. I winced as he put pressure against my skin, but not enough to draw blood.

“Now that... what was his name? Spencer?” He let out a low chuckle. “Now that Spencer knows you’re here, he’ll try to save you.” The unsub slowly dragged the knife up my arm, still not breaking the skin, and I let out a whimper. 

“He’ll tell the police, but they’ll be too late.” He taunted. “They always are.”

The man now used his knife to push hair out of my face. “While we wait... Let’s have some fun.” He sunk the knife into my shoulder and I let out a scream.

Spencer’s POV

As the case was presented to the team, I was paralyzed in my seat with the voicemail replaying over and over again in my head.

It’s me. I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to hear from me right now.

I’ve been wanting to hear her voice for months, and when I finally do it’s because she was abducted. Even worse, she’s apologetic that she even has to call me. As if she’d ever have to apologize for speaking to me... 

“Reid?” Hotch’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I looked up at him and he repeated himself. “Will you analyze the voicemail for clues on Y/N’s location?”

I silently nodded. He turned to JJ and whispered to her to stay with me. Everyone then dispersed to do everything they could to bring Y/N back.

“Kid, who is this?” Morgan stayed behind and questioned me.

“Hm?” I questioned innocently. 

“Look, she could have called anyone in the world, but she called you. And you obviously care for her or else you wouldn’t be so quiet right now. So who is she?” Derek displayed concern in his eyes.

I let out a sigh. JJ took a seat in front of me and Morgan leaned against the table. My eyes were fixated on my hands, which were in my lap. “Her name’s Y/N. She was the one who got away.” I heard my voice crack, but I didn’t care. JJ and Morgan looked at me with sorrow as they listened to me open up about the love of my life. 

“I met her at the library. She saw I was checking out a book about physics and she gushed about how it was her favorite subject. We went on for 20 minutes talking about the subject, and then she asked me out for coffee.” I bit my lip.

“We started dating for a few months and everything was perfect. She didn’t mind my work schedule, and she listened to all my rambles. Sometimes she even had some facts of her own to add.” I recalled all the times Y/N would add to my fact spews instead of shutting me down, and I couldn’t stop the smile resulted from the memories. “She was perfect. In every way.”

I took a deep breath as my love story took a sour turn. “But then I... I started to push her away. After Tobias Hankel I pushed everyone away, but Y/N got it the worst. I was a horrible boyfriend, but she never gave up on me. She never knew why I was acting that way, but eventually I pushed her too far. We broke up because she thought I hated her. But I don’t. I never did.” I trailed off, remembering fragments of the last fight we had. I cringed as I remembered how broken her voice was, and how I continued to tear her down. I wasn’t in my right mind. If I could go back, I’d never let her leave that door. But in hindsight, I don’t blame her for leaving.

I quickly wiped the tears off my cheeks as Morgan rubbed my shoulder. JJ got up and hugged me. She lowered her face towards me and said, “We’re gonna save her, Spence. And when we do, you’re gonna tell her all of this.” She flashed me a kind smile.

“After I got off dilaudid, I realized I lost her, so I tried to get her back. I wanted to surprise her, so I went to the cafe we went to the day we met, and I saw her there. She was there with another guy... She had already moved on and I was too late. I never got to apologize to her.”

I didn't want to meddle in Y/N's new relationship. She had every right to move on. So I tried to as well. But it didn't hurt any less, especially since I never got to explain myself to her. I had accepted the fact that Y/N had moved on from me, but her voicemail gave me an ounce of hope. In the direst of circumstances I was the one she called. Perhaps it was because of my job, but I let myself hope that maybe I misread the situation. That man could have been a friend. And I could still have a chance.

But hope is a dangerous thing.

“Reid, I know this is hard. We all want to get Y/N back safe, but you’re the only one who can understand what she’s trying to tell us here. Think you can focus?” Morgan wanted to make sure my head was clear enough to analyze Y/N’s message. The truth was, I wasn’t sure.

But I nodded and played the voicemail again.

“June 6?” I repeated once the voicemail ended.

“Is that when the two of you met?” Morgan asked.

“No, that date doesn’t have any significance to us at all. June 6, 9:30? Why would she say that?” I wondered out loud as I wrote 6/6, 9:30 on the board. 

“Can you play it again?” I asked JJ.

When we met, I knew exactly where I was in life. 

“There right there, pause.” I knew that was a lie. “When we met, she was a graduate student but she didn’t know what to study. I helped her with that.”

“Okay, so she knows you can catch onto her lies. What is she trying to tell us?” JJ wondered out loud.

It was then that I realized what Y/N was doing. “This entire call is full of lies. She knew I’d catch onto them, but I don’t know what she’s saying.” 

Morgan jumped in, “Okay, so if you catch all of her lies, we’ll decode the message.” I nodded as JJ pressed play and I wrote down all the lies in the voicemail.

By the end of the call, my board looked like this:

6/6, 9:30

“knew where I was in life”

winning game - 2 dozen names?

“Okay, so what does this all mean, Reid?” Morgan asked. 

I stared at the board, trying to make a connection. “I don’t know...” I mumbled. I knew Y/N was trying to tell me something, and if I could figure it out I could save her. The thought gave me enough confidence to analyze her diction. “But did you hear the end of the call? She said I left her alone in the ‘big, cold world.’ It’s odd that she would describe it like that.”

“So she’s somewhere big and cold?” JJ chimed in.

“Probably...” I answered as I added to the board. 

“What about abandoned? Is that describing where she is or is this actually about your relationship?” Morgan asked.

“I don’t think she would use 'abandoned' to describe our relationship...” I bit my lip. I wouldn’t say I abandoned her, but I couldn’t help but wonder if that was how she actually felt. I cleared my throat. “That’s probably where she is. Big, cold, and abandoned.” 

“So what are we thinking, warehouse?” JJ inputted. 

Morgan nodded. “Okay, we’re getting somewhere. So does that mean when she said she knew exactly where she was in life, she meant she actually knew exactly where she was taken?”

“What about the game she talked about? What does that mean?” JJ asked.

“I never let her win any games, she insisted we both play fair and square.” I tried to think back to all the games we played. “She mentioned names... There was only one where we used names,” I held back a smile. “We were trying to see who would be the first to name all the U.S. presidents.”

Morgan and JJ looked at each other. “Why am I not surprised.” Morgan let out a small chuckle.

“But you forgot two dozen names?” JJ questioned.

“Two dozen is specific... and Reid doesn’t forget.” Morgan thought out loud.

I tried to remember more about the game. “I won that game. I was the first to put down my pencil and she teased me for it. But she wanted to finish her list so I’d give her clues to who she forgot... But there was one name she just couldn’t remember.”

“Two dozen... Did it happen to be the 24th president?” JJ wondered.

I let out a small smile. Clever girl. “Yeah, it was Grover Cleveland. The 24th president.”

I now looked at my new board, filled with new information.

6/6, 9:30

“knew where I was in life” am

winning game - 2 dozen names? ➝ Cleveland!

big, cold

abandoned

warehouse?

My head was swirling, trying to make sense of what Y/N gave me. My eyes darted up and down the board, trying to see her message. She knew where she was. She gave me a name, numbers...

“I got it!” I yelled. “It’s an address. She knew exactly where she was and she was trying to tell us! June 6, 9:30? 66930. Where’s Garcia? I bet there’s an abandoned building at 66930 Cleveland Street.”

Morgan raced out of the room to grab Garcia. Moments later she rushed into the room with her laptop and I hurriedly asked her, “Garcia, what is at 66930 Cleveland Street?”

Her fingers blazed across the keyboard then she shook her head. “No, I can’t find that address.”

JJ leaned towards the monitor. “Try Cleveland Road?”

Garcia shook her head once again, “Sorry my sweets, there’s no 66930 Cleveland Road either.”

She continued to clack at her keyboard, and moments later she lit up and said, “Wait, I see an abandoned warehouse at 6693 Cleveland Road!”

“It was probably easier for Y/N to use time to disguise the numbers, even if it added another digit...” I thought out loud.

Morgan rushed over to her computer as I felt my body fill up with hope. “What can you tell us about it, baby girl?” He asked.

“It was previously owned by a man named Hubert Roffkins, but then the trail ends 2 months ago. It looks like it was abandoned then, and oh dear.”

“What is it?” Morgan pushed.

“Hotch asked me to look into similar abductions with phone calls ending with murder.”

I swallowed harshly. “And?” I asked.

“The dates coincide with the first kidnapping.”

“Let’s go.” Morgan commanded.

Third Person POV

Hubert Roffkins had stabbed Y/N for the seventh time by the time the FBI got to the scene. He was cornered and surrounded by agents, he knew there was no way out of this. As he reached for his gun, Agent Hotchner fired a single shot to the head and Roffkins was dead before he hit the ground. 

Y/N was still conscious when the agents came. She was surrounded by her own blood and dizzy with pain, but she knew once she saw those FBI vests, she’d be okay. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but she heard a gunshot and saw a pair of converse running towards her. Her vision was blurring, but she didn’t need it to identify the figure who picked her up off the ground and held her face. He kept telling her to stay with him, but she couldn’t hear him. Her vision focused on his face for one second and she smiled at the familiar face. “Spencer,” she whispered, so faint he could barely hear her.

“I’m here, Y/N, I’m here.” He cried, holding her closer to him.

Her vision blurred once more and she let the darkness succumb her.

Spencer rode in the ambulance with her, and he would not let go of her hand the entire way to the hospital. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, wondering what could have been if he’d arrived just a few moments earlier. 

Once in the hospital, it took an army of nurses to separate Spencer from Y/N. He couldn’t let her out of his sight, too scared of losing her again. So he settled on sitting outside her room while the doctors operated on her. 

The rest of the BAU team met him at the hospital. They exchanged glances and sighs, unable to help their youngest teammate. No matter how they tried to comfort him, his mind was fixated on the well-being of his lost love.

The doctor emerged from Y/N’s room and Spencer immediately sat up.

“Her vitals are stable and he missed the major organs. She will be incredibly sore, but she’s gonna make it.” The doctor announced.

Spencer smiled. “Can I see her?” He asked.

The doctor nodded, warning him that she was still sleeping and she will be very tired.

Spencer walked into the room and sighed. He hated seeing her like this. She was pale, and she looked so fragile. He wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and hold her forever. 

He took a seat next to her bed and grabbed her hand. His thumb traced small circles on the back of her hand while he studied her face. Finally, after months of being apart, he was finally here with her. He was both relieved and terrified, knowing that once she woke up, she would have his entire heart in her hands. 

“Hey, Y/N.” He whispered, his voice coming out broken. He cleared his throat and continued. 

“I uh, I got your voicemail.” His voice cracked and he let out a sad smile. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. But you did so good. I understood, Y/N. I remembered everything.” His voice cracked and tears were welling up in his eyes, but he continued. “You’re so strong. I’m so proud of you.” His voice was now barely above a whisper. 

Spencer stopped for a moment to compose himself. It was the moment he had been waiting for. Y/N was right in front of him and all of his emotions were overwhelming. He had to tell her right now. Even if she couldn’t hear him; he needed the practice. Because the words have been bottled up for so long, and now that she was right in front of him, he felt like he was going to burst. But he just didn’t know where to start. 

“Y/N, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I really need to tell you something, and I can’t wait any longer.” Spencer let out a sigh and stared at her hand in his. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for months, and I-I need to let the words out before I lose my confidence.” Spencer swallowed thickly. “Or I don’t know, maybe you can hear me. Studies have shown that...” He trailed off. He was rambling.

Spencer let out a deep sigh and brought his eyes back to Y/N’s face. “Y/N... You were the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I can’t believe I let you go.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “You were right, you know. Something did happen to me on a case. But I didn’t want to bring you into the evil that corrupts my world, so I kept you in the dark. But then it got out of hand... It became less about shielding you and more about protecting myself.” Spencer licked his lips and lowered his eyes again. He felt ashamed. Had it not been for his own pride, perhaps Y/N would still be in his life. Maybe he could have even prevented this. But he let out a shaky breath and continued.

“I was abducted and tortured by a man named Tobias Hankel. He had multiple personalities. So when he wasn’t torturing me, he was giving me painkillers. It was dilaudid.” Spencer shook his head as the memories of his abduction came back to him. 

“I... I became addicted, Y/N. I knew I needed help. But I wanted to prove I was strong. I wanted to prove that I could bounce back and show that I could handle it. But I couldn’t.” By now, the young doctor was crying. He continued through his sobs. “I guess I... I guess I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it on my own, so I pushed everyone away, Y/N. Not just you. And I know that doesn’t make it better, but you were never the problem, Y/N. It was me.”

Spencer looked at Y/N’s face and rubbed circles on her hand. “I know there’s no way you could have known that, but I don’t want you blaming yourself for what happened between us. And I know what you would say if you were awake right now. I know what I did was wrong. I realized that you would never see me as weak for this, but in that moment I've never felt so weak. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Hot tears streamed down the Spencer’s face as he continued. “I’ve been sober for half a year now. I’ve been sober ever since we broke up. And I know drugs don’t excuse how I acted towards you, but I just needed you to know,” Spencer held onto Y/N’s hand tighter. “I never stopped loving you.”

As the young doctor spilled his heart out to his love, the words he spoke never reached their recipient. Y/N laid in deep slumber, unaware of Spencer’s confession as he sat next to her. She would stay in her comatose-like condition until the next day, never to hear the truth behind the end of her and Spencer’s relationship.

Because when Y/N awoke, Spencer had gone to get his morning cup of coffee from the hospital’s cafeteria. He had spent the entire night sleeping by her side, desperate to be the first person she saw when she woke up. By the time he returned, fits of giggles were emerging from Y/N’s room.

Spencer’s heart fluttered as he heard her laughter echo in his ears. She was finally awake, and he could finally get his confession off his conscience. All he had to do was repeat the words he had said the night before, this time to active ears.

But the words were caught in his throat once more, because when Spencer entered Y/N’s room, he was met with two sets of eyes instead of one. Y/N had lit up and exclaimed, “There’s the man who saved my life!” Her excitement and smile still brought butterflies to Spencer’s stomach. But they quickly disappeared when she spoke her next sentence, confirming Spencer’s fears. 

“Spencer, I want you to meet Connor. My boyfriend.” She gestured to the man sitting next to her. Spencer had recognized him immediately, he was the man he saw Y/N with at the cafe.

Spencer’s stomach dropped and his heart broke once again. 

He was too late.

---

read part two here!

[itsallyscorner]

Blindsided

Pairing: Sam Wilson x reader

Summary: What happens after it’s announced that John Walker’s the new Captain America.

Warnings: none; a bit suggestive at the end? This is my first time writing for Sam so if it’s a bit meh, I’m sorry, I tried😭 Lots of dialogue!!

A/n: This is a bit of a short one, but I hope you like it:) I know this isn’t how he found out in TFAWS but ya know :D Also hate the character NOT the actor, don’t hate on Wyatt Russell😤

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

“Look, here’s the thing, uh, I’m—I’m not Tony Stark. I’m not Dr. Banner. Okay? I don’t have the flashiest gadgets, I don’t have super strength. But what I do have—is guts.”

John Walker’s voice bounces off the walls of the cozy Louisiana apartment you and Sam shared. With the saved money you both had, you guys managed to purchase a decent apartment. Being two of the known remaining Avengers, your landlord was quite flexible with rent. Having the two of you in his building was like having built in security.

The apartment was just right for you and Sam. There was a living room, a kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. You both didn’t need much. As long as you had each other, you were both satisfied. Besides, with Sam working with the Air Force on missions, you managed to get roped into following along—which meant you two weren’t always home.

The morning sun shined through the window of your living room, reflecting onto one of the white walls across from it. The sun created an orangey yellow hue to fill the room, radiating the warmth and cozy aura of a sunny Louisiana morning. Though compared to the domestic and calming aura, Sam was the complete opposite. You couldn’t see his facial expressions but the way his shoulders tensed from behind was enough to tell you that he was upset.

After a week (I’m honestly not sure) of donating Steve’s shield to the Smithsonian, it’s been revealed that the government has taken the shield and handed it to some—in your eyes—Steve Rogers wannabe. As someone who’s worked alongside Steve and consider him as family, it angered you to see some random man parade around the world with Steve’s shield and title. This Walker dude has no clue of the responsibility and value that comes with the shield—like seriously using halftime of a football game as an opportunity to pull a PR stunt as Captain America? He’s literally just America’s mascot.

Though you were bubbling with anger, you couldn’t imagine how your boyfriend felt. Steve gave him the shield, passed down the role of Captain America to him and sent him off to fulfill the duties he couldn’t do anymore. Yes, Sam made a promise, but after dabbling with the thought of becoming the new Captain America he decided to give it up. You weren’t going to question him, it was his choice and you understood why he made it. Nobody could fill Steve’s shoes.

You turn the stove off, deciding to check on Sam instead of continuing breakfast. The clip of John Walker was still playing on the tv when you enter the living room. You get a glimpse of his face, betrayal filled his eyes as he glowered at the tv screen. You carefully make your way towards him, settling beside him on the couch. He glances at you before shoving his head in his hand.

“Sam...” You wrap an arm around his back, your palm feeling the tension build between his shoulders.

“He trusted me with the shield.” He began, his voice low. “He trusted me with it and now it’s in the hands of—whoever this person is.” He gestures to the tv that showed John Walker speaking to a blonde interviewer.

“Steve believed in me to carry on his legacy and I just threw it away because I was being selfish.” He fumed, his tone raising. He shot off the couch and moved to pace around the living room. You sigh, giving him a moment to get his thoughts together. You patiently waited for him to calm down, watching him mutter sentences to himself under his breath.

Slowly, you get up from the couch and approach him. Deciding to stand in the way of his path, he comes to a halt. The conflicted expression on his face softens at the sight of you.

“Listen,” You start, arms snaking around his torso while his hands naturally grip onto your hips. “You didn’t know the government was going to go behind your back and deem someone else as Captain America. None of us were expecting this to happen. You can’t beat yourself up for something you didn’t have control of.”

Sam breathes out and tries to move out of your arms. Betrayal and guilt consumed his body.

“That’s the thing, (y/n). If I hadn’t given up the shield in the first place, we wouldn’t even be in this situation right now. I had control of all of this, even if I didn’t know about their hidden agenda.” He bursted out, brows furrowing together in frustration. You tighten your arms around him.

Sam defeatedly lowers his head, “This whole thing is so much more than me being blindsided by the government. I promised Steve that I’ll do my best. He trusted me and in return I broke my promise to him. I let Steve down.” He confessed. Silence filled the room, the only sounds heard were the quiet murmurs coming from the tv.

You were the first to speak. “Steve made mistakes too you know? Besides being a super soldier and all, it’s what made him relatable to everyone. Before he became Captain America, he was just like us. Humans who wanted to do good for the world and bring peace to its chaos.” Your words caught Sam’s attention, although he was a bit confused to where you were going with them.

You continued, “Like almost every human in the world, he learned from those mistakes. Yes, you may have had control of the current situation we’re in, but that doesn’t contradict the fact that you had no knowledge of what was happening behind the scenes. Steve chose to give you the shield for a reason, Sam. He knew that if something were to go wrong, you would be there in an instant to make it right.”

You shifted closer to him and cradled his jaw with both of your hands. “You gave up the shield and now it’s in the hands of the wrong man. I know you’ve always said that it feels like it belongs to someone else. But would you rather it be in the hands of someone like John Walker or in the hands of someone Steve believes in? Are you gonna sit here and feel guilty about it or are you going to get up and make things right?”

Sam’s eyes bore into yours. Conflict flashes in his dark orbs, his jaw clenches, and his hands resting on your hips gripped onto your skin tightly.

“We’re gonna get his shield back.” He proclaimed.

A small smile forms on your lips, “One way or another.” You confirm.

Bonus:

“You know, you’re getting good at that whole speech thing.” Sam remarks, pulling you closer to him. That infamous toothy grin of his taking over his features.

You chuckle letting your hands venture on the expanse of his chest before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Well I learned from the best. If there’s one thing I learned from Steve it’d have to be his way with words.” You shrugged. Sam hummed in response.

“If I’m gonna be getting that shield back, I’m gonna be needing some help on those speeches.” He says, a suggestive tone to his sentence.

You smirked, amusingly shaking your head at him. “Good think I know plenty of ways to get you to talk.” Sam takes that as his cue to connect his lips with yours. His eager hands wander your body as he leads you towards the couch.

Before things can escalate, you pull away and place a finger in between your and Sam’s lips.

“Not now hotshot, we’ve got a mission in a bit and we still need to stop by Sarah’s before we leave.” Sam doesn’t get the chance to object since you’ve already pushed him off of you. Your hips swayed as you made your way back into the kitchen to continue cooking breakfast.

He stutters at first but chases after you going on about how much of a tease you were and how unfair it was to him and his needs.

“I told you I had plenty of ways to get you to talk.” You smirk, innocently shrugging at him.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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[creativeashproductions]

If I Stay Part One // Luke Patterson

Summary: A beautiful day Luke visits a record store to relive the times he would buy an album, but he finds more than memories. He meets you and a connection blossoms between you two and then Reggie and Alex as well. All is well until Julie discovers something.

Warning: Swearing, talk of death and car accident!

Words: 2.6k

A/N: This is based off the movie If I Stay and the movie Charlie St. Cloud. Sorry for not posting sooner, my sister in law along with my three nieces were in a car accident. Thankfully the kids are okay but my sister-in-law in currently in hospital due to minor injuries thus far.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

So, Julie’s life changed dramatically in the lost year and few months, firstly her family lost their mother. Secondly, Julie’s love for music faded until the melody and lyrics were haunting memories. Thirdly, after losing her place in the music program, she had to question her sanity. For in her garage lived three teenage ghosts to her disbelief and horror quite frankly; the ghosts grew on her so much she was in a band with them.

In the hours that Julie was attending school, the boys tended to tour the entire city. They enjoyed seeing the changes that had happened for the two and a half decades. Reggie really enjoyed the western-themed stores, even scaring a little girl with a floating cowboy hat that disappeared once on his head. Alex adored learning about the drastic changes within in the LGBTQ+ community, he had plans for when 2021 LA Pride came in June. Luke, of course, would go anywhere that had music such as music stores, record stores, concert venues and even followed a rock legend once.

“Ooh.” A voice spoke in the record store, “This would be the perfect gift.”

Luke turned to see you gazing at the Rock N’ Roll records with a passion in your eyes and an adorable smile that melted his heart. He couldn’t help but walk closer even if he had no clue if you could see him or not.

“Def Leppard? Definitely one of my favourite bands.” Luke spoke anticipating the usual one-sided conversation. His speculation shattered when you turned to face him with big eyes, “You can see me.”

You nodded your head, pushing your hands into your faded blue jeans glancing around the store, hoping the owner didn’t notice. To your relief the man was oblivious, Luke glanced over before stepping closer.

 “You’re alive?”

“Mhm.” You spoke, removing a single hand to play with your burgundy jacket that cinched at the waist to give form. It was open to reveal a plain black shirt that left an inch of your midsection free, “I always wondered if ghosts were real. I got my answer.”

“This is so cool! My friend is the only person that can see my friends and me.” The grin was breathtaking on the teenage ghost. There was a connection between the two that was immediate and intense.

“At least you’re not alone.” You supplied turning to pick up the record, turning it around to read the tracklist. In the end, you decided you didn’t feel like buying it, replacing it you started for the front door.

A college-aged person walked in glued to the screen of the phone not replying as you mentioned a thank you before the door closed. Luke rushed to follow your steady pace in black hiking boots.

“Where are you going?” Luke questioned coming to the same stride as the girl that had taken his attention quickly. His interest had grown when he found he could hold a conversation with her.

“It’s a nice day. I thought I would go for a walk.” You replied, stopping to look around the street with curious eyes. Luke yearned for those eyes to look in his again because he swore he saw a galaxy in them, “Would you like to join me?”

Luke’s head was nodding in response with a new pep in his step as you walked down the street filled with all different kind of stores. Luke recognized Family Living Grocery store as the one that the Molina got their groceries, he and the guys had joined Julie on a trip once. It was one of his worst memories as a ghost, surrounded by snacks and food he couldn’t indulge in.

“So, what’s your story, Caspar?” You questioned stopping to look as at a beautiful dollhouse, “My cousin had one. We actually renovated it a while back for her unborn niece.”

“Caspar?” Luke teased, watching the nostalgia faded from your expression as you continued on the walk. His hazel eyes, greener at the moment, glittered at the different banter he had with you than the guys or Julie.

“Well, I don’t know your name!” You exclaimed turning the corner at a parlour with gorgeous stencilled artwork on the glass.

“Luke. My name is Luke. Hey! I know this shop!” Luke beamed, stepping back to take in the storefront. In the twenty-five years since he last saw it, the blue faded into a teal, but the door was still the same as it always was.

“You have a tattoo?” You asked, scanning his arms bare in the cut off shirt he wore. You couldn’t see any ink on his skin. Luke couldn’t help the smirk on his face at the blatant heated gaze.

“No. It was 1994. We just played our biggest gig at the time, and Bobby decided we should get tattoos.” Luke’s mouth twisted at the mention of his former friend, “Of course we were sixteen and Alex just about fainted in the shop. The guy took one look at Reggie and laughed at our fake IDs. Told us to come back in a few years.”

One of the few memories that weren’t tainted by the betrayal that Trevor Wilson had gone on to do a year after the tattoo fiasco. It was more than not being credited or his songs being stolen, but it was also that someone he wholeheartedly trusted turned his back on them. Luke frankly didn’t care how Bobby coped after that fateful night. Still, he changed his name and refused any mention of his previous music experience. That hurt a lot.

“So, you’re a ’90s kid.” You raised an eyebrow coming to a stop on the edge of the street, pressing the button to cross.

“Technically a ’70s kid. We died in ’95 a few hours before a life-changing gig.” The mood turned sombre as Luke thought back on that one night that life decided to raise both middle fingers at his dreams, “Death by a hot dog.”

The snicker fell from your mouth before you do anything about it but sobered up quickly in the view of his painful admittance.

“So, you’re seventeen?” You asked crossing when the crosswalk light flickered on. Your attention focused on crossing while listening to the teenager.

“Forever seventeen but I would eighteen physically, but if I had survived I would be forty-three.” Luke mused shoving his hands into his staple black jeans with the chains and his constant accessory of a blue rabbit’s foot.

“Oh, damn. I’ve seventeen as well.” You replied dodging pedestrians before humming a to a song you had heard recently but where you did was unknown. You didn’t want to bump into anyone.

Luke glanced down at his watch, somehow even in death it worked, noticing that it was around the time rehearsal would commence. The thought barely ended before a flash of light preceded Alex’s presence. You slightly jumped in response.

“Luke! Julie’s wondering where you are. We have rehearsal.” Alex was surprised that Luke wasn’t already at the studio. He was always the first one holding his guitar for the rest of them.

One glance at the girl beside Luke cemented a reason for his tardiness. Alex could see that you were the reason and a pretty reason too. Alex wished he had your jacket with such a beautiful colour, but the music was more important.

“Oh, man!” Luke panicked fearing that being late would cause Julie to leave the band after the whole school dance fiasco.

“So, Luke. I like your name by the way. I’m Y/N.” You greeted holding back from offering you a hand, your theory would have been proven correct. Ghosts can’t touch other people, all the movies portrayed that.

“Nice to meet you! I’ll find you soon!” Luke shouted seconds before Alex poofed them both away with a single hand on his bandmate’s shoulder.

A content smile appeared before you continued on your way, unaware of the lack of acknowledgement from people on the street.

The next few days, Luke would find you either in the record store or just out front during his free time. He hadn’t realized how lonely he was touring the music entertainment spots until he had your company. Soon you were joined by Alex and Reggie every once in a while.

The three were planning outings with their new lifer friend as Julie grabbed her songbook from her room. She was amused when the three wouldn’t shut up.

“What are you planning?” Julie questioned scanning their animated expressions, even taking in the slight change in Alex’s appearance.

Alex had a braided bracelet of the rainbow on his left wrist that definitely hadn’t been there yesterday. He even seemed calmer and less anxious, as well.

“What happened to Alex?” Julie questioned with a small smirk, “Did you bump into Willie?”

Alex shook his head, “No, Luke met this girl at a record store and then Reggie and I met her. She’s cool! There’s this app she showed us, and it had videos of anything you could imagine!”

Julie’s teasing smile faltered at the mention of Luke meeting someone before it returned once more. She pushed the feeling away as this girl had brought peace to the drummer.

“What’s her name?” Julie asked, pushing the songbook away to listen intently to the new piece of the boys’ afterlife. The three burst into stories of the girl.

“She took me to this cool place nearby where people store their horses!” Reggie burst out, clapping his head, “I already have a country song started! This is so a hit single for our future country album!”

Alex only released an exasperated sigh at Reggie’s idea that he voiced every single day since the beginning of the band. Luke was just used to finding sheets of songs from Reggie around the studio and often his songbook too.

“She also brought me a bag of clothing she had in her house that she let me go through. Apparently, her house is the place where cousins take their old clothing.” Alex supplied striking a pose in his new white sweater with a rainbow logo on the front.

Julie grinned at the positivity radiating off the two boys.

“Is she a ghost?”

Luke shook his head, “No. She’s alive.”

A spark of happiness flits itself inside of Julie before it dissipated because Flynn had already gently let the girl down about Luke.

“What’s her name! I’m gonna find her Instagram!” Julie took out her phone waiting as Alex supplied her the name. Her thumbs froze before she could type staring down at the black screen.

The name was familiar.

Laying on a bed on San Pablo Street was a girl with her eyes closed and a serene expression. This bed wasn’t just any bed in a home. Instead, this bed was one no one wished to be in. A bed with machines surrounding and right in the middle of those machines was Y/N.

The very girl that had met Luke, Reggie and Alex were in fact in the ICU of a hospital recovering in a coma.

“Why do you look like that?” Luke demanded as the colour drained from the lead singer of their band.

“Are you sure it was Y/N Y/L/N?” Julie gulped dread filling her veins as each boy nodded their head and the girl slumped, “I go to school with her. The thing is she’s been in a coma for two weeks now.”

You were outside the record store once more as the three ghosts appeared in front of you each looking the worst you had ever seen them.

“Did you lie?” Luke questioned stepping closer to the teenage girl that furrowed her brows in confusion, “You said that you are alive. Why did you lie?”

“Lie?” You asked, taking a step back from the odd energy the boys had. A look of distraught on each face, “What are you talking about?”

“Why are you here every day at this exact time. Never late, never early.” Alex questioned sick to his stomach as your brows came together.

“I- walk…” You trailed off thinking of the last week in deep thought paling as you had no recollection of going home or getting to the store. It was like you blacked out each time.

Actually, the last time you remember not being with the guys or at the store was two weeks ago.

“I don’t re…member.” You whispered, “I haven’t seen my family since…oh my god.”

Luke stepped closer, terrified as he reached out, hoping with his entire being his hand would go through you. It didn’t. Luke’s hand rested on your arm, still wearing that burgundy jacket. Your eyes flickered between his solid hand and the same outfit you wore for weeks now. Why would you be wearing a jacket and hiking boots in Los Angeles?

“My cousin had been saving up for a trip for her eighteenth birthday. She wanted to go skiing, so we split the cost between our families.”

As if a wall broke, you realized with horror that the college boy that hadn’t held the for you like you first thought. He hadn’t seen or heard you because in his world you weren’t there. No one had acknowledged you because they couldn’t see you just like they couldn’t see Luke.

“What else do you remember?” Reggie spoke up next, noticing that Luke was getting more upset. His eyes going so light the green appeared to be blue and glittered with tears and his heart dropping.

“My parents, my cousin and I were driving up the mountain in the rented car. There-“

Two Weeks Ago

Your head leaned again Lou’s head sharing the headphones connected to your phone blasting the carefully curated playlist. Lou had been living with your parents and you the last six months as her parents were travelling for work. It was a dream because she was like a sister already and vice versa; Lou as a surprise baby with her older sister being ten years older.

“We haven’t been to the slopes since we first got married.” Dad said glancing over at your mother in the passenger seat, “Didn’t we conceive-“

“Dad! Gross!” You shouted, wrinkling your nose as he glanced in the rear-view mirror to smile at your antics. Your mother’s laugh was probably one of your most favourite sounds in the world, it was warm like hot chocolate on a cold day.

“Did you see that video of the hologram band?” Lou asked, not paying attention to your family’s antics, “It’s super cool.”

“We still have half of our playlist to go through. You should show me when we get to the cabin.” You replied, “We could put it on the projector with the others.”

The others being your extended family, including the surprise of Lou’s parents. Your mother pointed out the snow on the mountain gaining everyone’s attention. It was beautiful compared to sunny Los Angeles.

Lou’s thumb was just about to click the video of Julie and the Phantoms against your wishes. You felt the fear before the yell, snapping your head up you watched as a pickup truck hit ice swerving into your lane. The screech of tires preceded the crunch of the vehicles hitting each other. Throughout the surrounding area, the echoes of the crash bounced off the mountains scaring birds away. Miraculously Lou’s phone survived the crash and played the electric video of ‘Edge of Great’ by Julie and the Phantoms. A song you would hum under your breath during your walks meeting the guys.

The snow turned red under four of five bodies. You lay nonconscious a stark difference in the burgundy jacket and black shirt you had painstakingly chosen that morning.

If I Stay Part Two (Final)

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[kikilefangirl]

Safety Net

Steve Rogers x Reader

(Word Count: 1.7k)

It was dark, but you knew movement on your property when you saw it.

Your grip on your gun tightened as you stared into the black abyss in front of you. The sound of footsteps crunching across your grass was off—different pairs of feet hitting the ground at different times. You counted more than three.

The gun wasn’t ideal. It was too much of a spectacle for the occasion. You pulled a knife out of its sheath, and sliced it through the air. You stuffed the gun into the waistband of your shorts, and crouched down. Thankfully, the intruders were too far to hear the slight groan of the floorboards under your bare feet. But they were too close for your liking.

In a strange stroke of fate, one of them moved recklessly, sprinting towards your front porch. You sprung into action, launching at them from the shadows.

You sliced a nice sized gash on the right leg. The pain caused an audible male groan, causing him to falter long enough to take advantage and place a knife to the man’s throat.

He stilled at the cold metal on his carotid.

“Y’all are either stupid, arrogant, or desperate to come here!” You called out. Your voice carried out into the darkness and the footsteps ceased. Your hostage didn’t dare struggle against you for fear of death, but how much his crew cared was unknown.

“Y/N, stand down.”

A red sphere of light formed, and none other than Steve Rogers stepped forward, bathed in its glow. You lowered the knife and your hostage bolted towards his companions.

Your focus never left Steve as you surveyed his group. The light came from the girl beside him, while none other than Bucky Barnes was on his other one.

“I have spare beds and medical supplies for your friends down in the bunker. Second door on the right.” You stated.

One by one you let Steve’s team pass you, with varying looks of venom and curiosity. When it came time to let the man himself inside, he spoke.

“Y/N, I know this—”

You cut him off with a hand in his chest.

“Not tonight, Rogers.”

You turned on your heel and left the large man standing in the doorway.

...

Strangely enough, you slept soundly for the rest of the night.

You woke up just before dawn and began cooking for your guests. If they were worth anything battle wise, Steve’s team would be up soon. You started on breakfast. Grits, sausage, the works. You imagined it had been some time since they had a proper meal. You felt eyes on your back, and chose to ignore them.

“We had nowhere else to go.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, you stiffened and stirred the grits harder. Although your back was to him, you heard the floor groan under his weight. He couldn’t have been much more than a few feet away.

“You gonna look at me?” Steve asked you. His tone was low and deep.

You clicked your tongue and turned the burner down. You still had on your short shorts, tank top, and no bra from the night before. Your headscarf was wrapped around your head, a weapon just in reaching distance. You came around slowly, schooling your features into a blank expression.

“Thank you, for letting us stay.” He said.

When you finally took him in, Steve was as captivating as he was when you saw him the first time. His hair was a shaggy mess on top of his head, though. And he’d grown a beard. His eyes however, were full of the same dutiful gaze you remembered.

“You came here for sanctuary, I’m giving it.”

Don’t ask me for more.

Steve frowned and put his hand on his hips.

“Y/N. What do you want me to say?” He pleaded. You ran your tongue across your front teeth. Before you could respond, the girl from the night before emerged from the bunker.

“I’m Wanda, thank you for your hospitality.” She said. You softened at her somewhat haggard appearance. Her clothes were ripped in places, and her hair wasn’t combed out. You’d come across her file before, but only in passing.

“I just washed some towels and I’ve got fresh clothes in my closet for you, if you want ‘em.” You knew what it was like to be a woman on the run, surrounded by nothing but men. Wanda lit up at your offer and thanked you, slipping into a language you didn’t speak. You nodded and she left.

As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut, you stalked over to Steve, whose eyes had never left you.

“Tell your friends breakfast is ready.” You ordered. Steve nodded.

His hand came up to your cheek, and you could feel the rough calluses against your skin. All you wanted to do was close your eyes and melt. To keep Steve Rogers to yourself and stay in your hideaway.

He was a soldier—dutifully watching over those who couldn’t defend themselves. You were entirely different. You had been fucked over by enough people, enough times to know better. Why Steve didn’t, you had no clue.

You stepped back and folded your arms together.

“We get to work on game plans after breakfast. I’ll cash in some favors and see how far that’ll get y’all.” You told him.

The rest of Steve’s team was beginning to file into the kitchen. Steve held your hand, and the sudden warmth in front of everyone caught you off guard. Instinctively, you bristled at the contact.

You pointed Sam to a plate you made him, as a sort of apology for your misunderstanding. He gave a half smile and nodded in thanks.

“Listen up. Y’all got a week to get the hell out my house and plan your next moves. Meet me downstairs when y’all are done.” You announced. Without sparing Steve a glance, you promptly exited.

...

“Your best bet is a big city. I can get you passage from here to Cape Town, but after that you’re on your own.” You explained.

A chorus of tentative approval came from Steve’s group, but he hadn’t said anything yet. His eyes were glued to the different screens and maps.

“What if we went the back way. Get in by land and make our way to the coast.” He offered. You squinted, following his logic and trying to find truth in it.

“Waterways are crawling with authorities, legal or not. Y’all want that heat without a solid exit?” You pondered out loud. Steve was staring at you in complete earnest and everybody knew it.

“Plenty of blinds spots if we get enough distractions in the meantime.” He countered.

“I’m not keeping you safe here just for you to take bigger risks.” You said firmly.

The two of you were battle hardened strategists with too much history and a lot of unfinished business. Sam groaned from the other side of the bunker, cutting through your standoff.

“I, uh, need help in the kitchen. Y’all come help.” He called out. One by one, Steve’s team excused themselves with varying levels of awkwardness. Then it was just you and Steve in the bunker.

“I think that was intentional.” You joked. Steve placed his hands on his hips and sighed.

“Probably because you haven’t looked me in the eyes since we got here.” He replied.

“I’m not the one trying to get myself killed, Steve. You are. So don’t blame me for not wanting to look at the dead man walking.”

Your words hung in the air and a long silence followed.

“Come with me.” He said at last.

You scoffed, knowing full well you were retired. You had absolutely no desire to get back out in the field out of sheer self preservation. Steve talked a big game about love and a future, but he was in no shape or form willing to hang up the shield for it.

The two of you were at an impasse. Then Steve did the unexpected: he punched the wall.

It was a relatively controlled impact, but your house wasn’t built to sustain a super soldier’s outburst. An outburst that was a rarity in itself. Steve chest heaved less from effort and more from frustration. His jaw kept clenching and unclenching as he tried to keep it together. Dust from the wall coated his fist, and a solid chunk of cement dropped to the floor.

“I can feel something coming. I don’t––I don’t know what it is yet, but I feel it.” He said at last.

You made no move to approach the blonde, just waiting for him to finish processing the wave of emotions on his face. That was what you liked most about Steve. He never hid when he was angry or sad or lonely; his openness was a welcome change for you.

And this time it was more serious than it had ever been. You swallowed hard and made a beeline for the console. Punching in the code, a small chamber on the far side of the wall appeared, revealing the one thing you never thought you’d ever need again.

“Nat got one suit, I got another,” you started, meeting Steve’s eyes for the first time. A haunting uncertainty stared back at you.

You clasped your hand in Steve’s, gripping tight enough to turn the tips of your fingers white.

“I trust you, Rogers.” You admitted. You looked straight ahead at the suit, but you weren’t really there. You imagined the action you would see in it, and how devastating this phantom battle would be. A growing pit in your stomach nagged at you, Steve’s foreboding presence had fully transferred to you.

Something wet hit your cheeks. Tears to brace yourself, tears to mourn the peace you had here, and warmth. Steve wiped them away as they came, cradling your face with his free hand.

You craved the closeness––it was a string of touch and breath and skin the both of you lost in isolation, but found in each other. A new day was coming and you needed to be by his side when it did.

“I like the beard look.” You whispered. Steve snorted, but promised to keep it just for you. And the calm you felt with him was enough and would always be enough.

[obxfics]

puppybowl sunday

summary: you spend the day cuddled up watching the puppy bowl

pairing: john b x reader x jj

word count: 1654

a/n: i got inspiration watching the puppy bowl so... here we are lol also when tf is season 2 coming i want more motivation to write and shit please anyways enjoy (also this could technically belong to the “you against the world” universe but also... idk where it would fit lmao so if you want to imagine it like that have at it)

Masterlist

john b groaned as something woke him up. he had been deep in sleep, something he appreciated considering how many late night grocery or food runs he had to do for the residents of figure eight, when he felt someone shift as they laughed. he blearily opened his eyes to see you, sitting up with your back against his headboard and one of his arms flung across your waist, frozen with your hand clapped over your mouth. obviously you hadn't been meaning to laugh that hard.

"what are you doin' up so early?" he rasped, his voice kinda scratchy from sleep.

you smiled down at him and ran a hand through his thick hair, giggling when your fingers got all tangled up in it. "hon, it's two in the afternoon."

he lifted his head real quick and pouted when he saw that jj wasn't included in the cuddle pile. "shit, did i miss jj going off to work?"

"mhm. don't worry, though, i got some food into him and made sure he was wearing his mask. also put the fear of god into him if he didn't wash his hands throughout the day."

john b breathed out a laugh as he imagined you yelling at jj to stay safe at work. almost a year into the pandemic, and jj and john b had spent the whole time quaranting in the chateau to the best of their ability. it had been months since they had seen kie or pope in person for longer than a few minutes, and usually that was only when john b pulled up to the wreck to pick up delivery orders or when jj and john b helped pope's dad with grocery deliveries. at the beginning of everything, you had been spending quarantine with your boys since school was all online and your parents' restaurant was closed. a month or so in, however, regulations had been lifted and the people of figure eight all but demanded for them to reopen, and so you went back home to help your parents with the restaurant and to keep jj and john b safe from anything you could have possibly brought back to them.

you had practically locked them in the chateau, leaving them threatening voicemails if they even thought about going out, but as two months turned into three turned into four turned into five, you realized that the boys needed their jobs as there seemed no end in sight to the pandemic. so jj returned to his job at the country club, and john b got a job busing tables at your family's restaurant. you moved back in to quarantine with them as school started, and you spent practically your whole savings on getting a backup generator and high speed wifi for the chateau so if anything happened, you all would be good. and, despite living through a worldwide panda express, you were quite happy.

beside you, john b shifted his head to rest on your lap so he could see what you were watching on your laptop that had you laughing so hard. a smile grew on his face when he saw the puppies running around on the "football field" and jumping all over the "ref." he looked up at you and felt his chest blossom with warmth at the way you smiled at the puppies and giggled when they flopped over.

"did you really wake me up watching the puppy bowl?"

"hush up," you laughed, "it's a tradition, and you know it. 'sides, you can't tell me you aren't enjoying this as much as i am. i've seen how you and jj get with dogs. y'all may love them more than you love me."

"aw, honey, that's not true," john b cooed. "you know how much we love you. obviously i love you more since i didn't go to work during the puppy bowl, but you know, that's to be expected."

you shook your head and lightly swatted at his stomach. you knew he wasn't being serious. john b loved jj just as much as he loved you, and the feeling was mutual from jj. the three of you had a good thing going, a relationship full of understanding and compassion, and it had taken y'all a long time to get there. you all had things to work through, like jj's daddy issues, john b's abandonment issues, and your trauma from your previous relationship with rafe cameron, but you had gotten through it together, and this quarantine had actually brought y’all closer together which had surprised everyone.

“jj’s gonna be sad that he missed it,” you sighed.

“we’ll just rewatch it with him,” john b assured you. “and we can watch the old ones too.”

there was shuffling as the both of you wriggled around to get into a more comfortable position. at one point the two of you had to lunge to catch the laptop from falling to the floor, but eventually you settled in with john b curled around you and the blankets and pillows providing a sort of nest and elevated stand for the laptop. the room was filled with the soft sounds of puppy barks and whines, and your giggles when one of the dogs did something particularly cute, and john b let out a quiet sigh as he allowed himself to relax against you.

“i think we should get a dog,” you mumbled sleepily as john b clicked on last year’s broadcast. “we can add another cutie to our cuddle pile.”

there was some incoherent whining on your part before you dozed off in his arms. he did his best to focus on the puppies on the screen, but soon he too fell asleep with his face buried in the crook of your neck. that was how jj found you two when he stumbled into the room later that night as he yanked his tie from his neck. he stilled in the doorway, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he saw the two people he loved most in the world all snuggled up together. and then he saw what was pulled up on the laptop.

“oh you assholes!”

the both of you jolted awake, your hand smacking john b in the face as you moved to make sure the laptop wouldn’t fall off the bed. john b rubbed at his eyes and turned to blink up at jj.

“hey, how was work, babe?”

jj shook his head as you rolled over and made grabby hands, obviously asking for cuddles. he put his hands on his hips and frowned down at the pair of you.

“i cannot believe y’all are watching the puppy bowl without me.”

“um... in my defense,” john b started, “they were already watching when i woke up.”

“dude!” you turned your head to scowl at your boyfriend. “jj, baby, come cuddle with us, and we can turn it back on.”

as he kicked his shoes off and rifled around the dresser for comfy clothes, jj shook his head. john b let out a laugh when he realized what he was getting at.

“no can do, babe,” jj told you, smirking at john b as he let his work shirt slide off his shoulders. “the superbowl starts soon, and we’re watching it.”

you fell back on the bed and let out a loud groan. you had been hoping the boys would be too tired to watch the football game. you lifted yourself up on your elbows and glared at the two of them.

“i am legitimately only watching your stupid sportsball for the weeknd. after that i will be passing the fuck out.”

jj laughed and wrapped his arms around you as he flopped down between you and john b. you couldn’t keep your glare on your face when you felt your cheek hit his bare chest. you had missed him all day. there were a few laughs and giggled--and a couples groans of pain--as the three of you got all comfortable on the queen sized bed. finally you and john b sandwiched jj, john b spooning the blonde boy as you nestled in within the warmth of jj’s arms.

“don’t he kiss his kid on the mouth?” you mumbled as one of the players ran out on the field.

a wheeze left jj’s chest as john b shouted his laugh out, causing you to smirk. you had absolutely no clue as to what was happening in the game, or even had any idea as to who the teams were, because like you told the boys, you were only watching for the weeknd concert, and you were getting more and more anxious waiting for it.

“wait, i thought both teams were supposed to be good. why does one team already have like three touchdowns and the other doesn’t have any?”

“honey,” john b said, attempting to hold in his laugh, “just watch and enjoy the game.”

you rolled your eyes, making jj smile fondly. “hon, how am i supposed to enjoy a game i don’t even understand?”

“do you want us to explain?” jj offered sweetly.

“absolutely not. i appreciate it, baby, but i’m too pretty for that.”

jj snickered and pressed a kiss into your hair. “of course you are, babe.”

you nuzzled your nose against his collarbone and tugged your hand from between the boys to gently scratch at john b’s scalp. a hum rumbled deep within the brunette’s chest at the action.

“i love y’all,” you whispered into jj’s skin. “even if y’all make me watch football.”

“well we love you too,” jj returned with a kiss to your cheek and john b’s arm.

“even if you make us watch the weeknd,” john b teased.

“hey! you better appreciate abel or i swear i’m moving out!”

taglist (ahaha heyyy it’s been a while so tell me if y’all want to be removed): @damndunner​ @scandalousfemale @shawnssongs​ @kikifromtheblock​ @write-from-the-heart​ @kurtsconner​ @thatjohnd​ @abbiesthings​ @heavenlymama​ @strangerthanfiction713 @alexis-marrt022 @brithedemonspawn​ @obxsummer​

[miraculousares]

Because I doubt the writers are going to feed us the interaction immediately after The Thing™, here I am. GANG OF SECRETS SPOILERS. IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED S4 YET, DO NOT READ ON

Marinette clutched the sides of her head as if she might explode if she didn't hold everything together. "You're right, I have secrets and I lie all the time! I lie to my parents, to my friends. To everyone..." She felt her best friend sit beside her on the chair but she was so caught up in her feelings that she couldn't process it. "And the worst part about it is that I can't do anything about it!" She buried her face in her hands, fighting back another bought of sobs.

"We always have the choice, Marinette." Alya spoke softly and carefully putting her arms around the girl. In the back of her head, Marinette was sure that she could feel her shaking but at this point, she didn't care. She was overwhelmed. She was heartbroken. She was stressed. She was terrified.

"No." She looked up and met her friend's eyes and saw a look of sympathy. "At least not for me. I've got no other choice. It's all beyond us, Alya, and it's too heavy to carry." She wiped a tear from her face.

"If it's too heavy, then we'll be two to carry it," the girl whispered comfortingly. With this, Marinette let out a long breath. She knew what the right decision was to the discourse she'd been having in her own head all day. That didn't stop her fear from taking control, though.

"If I tell you, things between us will never be the same. It's going to destroy everything, change it all."

"Marinette, whatever you'll say, I'm your friend." Marinette could hear how desperately her friend wanted to know. But it wasn't out of curiosity or pushiness. It was to take the burden of her secret from her. To help her carry it.

"And me..." She searched her friend's eyes, gaining the confidence and reassurance she needed from the loving stare of her best friend. "I'm Ladybug." Time seemed to move in slow motion. For a moment, she wondered if Bunnix had done it, showing up to keep her from telling Alya. But instead, time resumed as the redhead's expression quickly changed from shock and confusion to one of understanding before pulling her into a tight hug. She paused for a moment before wrapping her own arms around her friend and let herself sob silently into her shoulder.

If she was being honest, Marinette had thought of a thousand different scenarios as to how Alya might react. The majority of them were filled with neverending questions from the Ladybug-Superfan. A select few ended with Alya storming out and never speaking to her. One even included her selling her out to Shadowmoth, though she shut that one down quickly. However, she hadn't let herself imagine Alya comforting her immediately. Marinette was grateful to her friend for that. She didn't ask her to prove it, ask her a million questions, or even speak. She just hugged her because she trusted her. Alya had complete faith in her.

After a few minutes of letting out the weeks' worth of sorrow and pressure out into her friend's flannel-clad shoulder, she eventually pulled away and searched Alya's eyes. She seemed to be processing the information, but sympathy and understanding still took over her face. Seeing that expression, all worries and stress washed away in a wave of overwhelming relief. It felt amazing to have finally told someone and she knew she had made the right choice. She let out another breath and a smile forced itself onto her face. It felt foreign on her face now, rarely having worn one since becoming the gaurdian, but it felt at home. She wiped her cheeks and laughed. Nothing was amusing, she was just so happy that it escaped her lips automatically.

"Okay, I'm okay. You can react now," she announced. Though Alya was doing an amazing job at just being understanding, she could tell that her best friend was bursting with questions. Alya seemed to scan over her one last time to check for any remaining need of comfort before letting her face turn to an expression of shock.

She sat silent for a moment as if trying to organize her thoughts before breathing out, "You've beta-read so much of my LadyNoir fanfiction..." Marinette couldn't help the loud laugh. She clapped her hand over her mouth but Alya just joined in the laughter. They sat there letting out all of their relief and joy and connection through that shared laugh until their stomachs hurt. Eventually, they were able to get their breath back and Alya seemed to be more collected in her processing.

"Okay, actually though, that's insane. Ladybug has been my best friend this whole time and I had no clue. And all the pressure you've been under this whole time. I mean hell, Marinette! Paris' safety- No. The world's safety has been sitting on your and Chat Noir's shoulders for two years and you're only 16! I can't even imagine it! I mean, I guess I can to an extent because, ya know, Rena Rogue. But that's more of a part-time gig and it's not like everyone's relying super heavily on me. And now I'm rambling. What I'm trying to say is that I'm glad you trusted me with this and I'm so sorry I haven't been able to support you the way you've been needing. But I'm here now." She inhaled, clearly having forgotten to breathe during her ramble, and pulled Marinette into one more hug. "Can I ask questions?" She asked after they pulled apart again.

Marinette smiled. "Of course, Als."

"Okay. God, where do I even start? Do you know who Chat Noir is?"

"No. It's too dangerous for us to know each other's identities. Shadowmoth needs both of our miraculous and if we knew each other's identities, that would make it that much easier for him to get them," Marinette explained. It felt amazing to finally be talking about this with someone. Of course, she always had Tikki and now the other kwamis, but she needed the support of another person. She needed the support of her best friend.

"So he doesn't know who you are either?" Marinette shook her head and Alya nodded. "How did you even get your miraculous? I mean it's not like there was a Ladybug to hand it to you like I got mine."

"The last guardian, Master Fu, gave them to us. I don't know what happened with Chat Noir but I imagine that it was similar to why he gave me mine. I saved him from getting hit by a car in a crosswalk and showed him kindness. He told me later that he could see the 'heroic qualities' in me." She used her fingers to make air quotes around the words.

"That's incredible!" She paused for a moment, eyebrows raised in thought. "Oh my god, so many things make so much sense now."

"RIGHT?!" Marinette exclaimed.

"That's why you're always late! And why you're always so tired! And why you just dash out of class in the middle of the day!"

"EXACTLY!" Marinette practically shouted, relieved to finally be understood.

"Oh,

man... Everything's clicking in place, wow." Marinette could almost see the equations floating in front of Alya's face.

"Wait, sorry if this is out of line but... Is LadyNoir canon?"

"WHAT! No! Not in a million years!"

"Then what is this?" Alya whipped out her phone and showed Marinette her home screen. It was the picture that had been haunting the girl since it was taken. She wished it would disappear but it was constantly resurfacing on the internet and on tabloid covers. The photo of her and Chat Noir kissing on the rooftop after battling Oblivio.

"I have no idea what that was," she admitted. "I have no memory of even defeating Oblivio, let alone kissing that mangy cat."

"I mean, I know you're going through a lot right now and have sworn off romance for the time being but... Could it ever happen?"

Marinette opened her mouth to respond but all that came out was a sigh. "No," was all she said.

"Why not?"

"I..." Tears formed in her eyes and Alya immediately pulled her into a hug.

"Oh my god, Marinette. I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

"No, no. I just... I haven't really let myself think about it since it happened. But, I guess I can finally talk about it, huh?"

"You can tell me anything, you know that."

And so, Marinette told Alya about what happened with Chat Blanc. She explained how their love destroyed the world. She explained how her own irresponsibility with her miraculous had destroyed the world. The whole event had honestly been very traumatic to Marinette and weighed heavily on her heart. Since that, she'd been even more closed off about her secret, especially to her partner. She hadn't let herself think about it if she could help it, but it still haunted her in her nightmares.

As she finished the story, Alya tightened her arms around her. "Marinette, I am so, so sorry that you had to go through that. You've been put through so much and you've been holding on to so much pressure and it's not fair. Mari, when I tell you this, I want you to believe me. You are the strongest person I know. You've gone through more than anyone should have to go through in a lifetime. Yet, you still manage to find a way to always be there for your friends and your family. You're out all night fighting for your life and for the world and then you come to school and you're there for everyone else. You are so, so strong. You're amazing and not just because you're Ladybug, but because you're Marinette."  Marinette couldn't hold back the tears that flowed down her cheeks as she hugged her best friend. Any regrets or doubts she worried she might have about telling Alya were gone. She knew she had made the right choice.

The girls spent the rest of the night talking about this, a mix of laughing and crying until they eventually fell asleep there on Marinette's couch, tired from the whirlwind of emotions. "Thank you, Alya, for being here for me," Marinette whispered as Alya's breathing steadied. Then, she closed her eyes and fell asleep herself. For the first time in weeks, her dreams were light and hopeful.

[kaznejis]

Letters- Marco Peña x reader, best friend!Noah Flynn x reader

@nick-1432​ asked: Hey Can I get a Marco ×Y/n imagine where the reader is Noah's best friend but a year younger than him . So is in the same year as Lee and Elle . You decide the rest .

A/N: Thankyou for this prompt! This is an AU so before we begin I’d like to note that Marco and Elle didn’t kiss in this universe- her and Noah had their issues but she never cheated. I decided to make this into a secret admirer fic- enjoy! :)

Feel free to send in any prompts!

“So, how is it going with Elle nowadays?” 

Noah grinned; the facetime screen glitching as it rushed to keep up with his widened features, “Yeah, it’s going better. I’ve decided that communication definitely is key and we were lacking it before.”

“So you did take my advice!” You giggled and fist-pumped the air, “So everything I say isn’t complete rubbish.”

“You didn’t know that already?” Noah raised his eyebrows and moved closer to the camera from where he had been showing off the apartment’s new microwave, “You’ll be here at Harvard with me in no time.”

“Yeah well,” You shrugged bashfully, leaning back in your desk chair, “I’ve got to actually hear back from them before that can happen.”

“It will.” Noah insisted before smirking slightly, “I may have even put in word with the dean for you.”

“Noah!” Your eyes widened as you slammed a hand down onto your desk, “You didn’t?!”

“I did.”

“Jesus,” You huffed, shaking your head at the camera, “You’re a sneaky bastard.”

“Takes one to know one, bitch.”

You both laughed at that, the both of you letting out snorts and silly giggles as you clutched at your sides and leaned back dangerously in your chair. Though before you could reply back with a cutting retort your dad came into the room. 

“Hey sweetheart, there’s a letter for you.”

You held up your finger in a ‘one moment’ gesture to Noah and put yourself on mute, “Who is it from?”

“No clue,” He shrugged and handed you a white envelope with your name on, “It just came through the mail box and by the time I got there whoever delivered it was gone.”

“Oh,” You turned the letter over once, twice before giving your dad a polite smile, “Thanks.”

He nodded in reply and left your room, shutting the door behind him, “What is it?” Noah’s voice sounded from your laptop, you quickly took yourself off mute and held the letter up to the camera. 

“A letter, no idea who it’s from though.”

“Well open it.” That earned him a glare, but he did have a point- you wouldn’t know who it was from if you never opened it. 

It was a standard white envelope, though it only had your name written on it meaning it had been posted straight into your mailbox by the sender themselves. Not creepy at all, you snorted to yourself. After pondering for a few moments, you hastily flipped the letter over and ripped it open, Noah winced at your ferocity in doing so. Inside the envelope was a slip of paper folded in half; it was white and there were pen marks that sunk through it. 

“Well?”

“Calm your farm,” You muttered, glaring at Noah again, “I’m getting to it.”

Unfolding the paper, you began to read the note. The handwriting was elegant and familiar- though you couldn’t place where you recognised it. 

Dear Y/N, 

I’m just going to cut straight to the chase here, I like you. A lot. I have for a long time now and I just can’t keep it to myself anymore. So there you go.

Yours sincerely, 

Your secret admirer. 

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god.”

“Y/N?” Noah stared at you through the screen, looking increasingly concerned, “Who is it from?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

You breathed, scratching your eyebrow before saying, “I mean, it’s from my secret admirer.”

“Your what now?”

“My secret admirer.”

To your utter shock, Noah barked out a loud laugh and clapped his hands together- extremely amused at the revelation, “A secret admirer? What is this, middle school?”

“I know right?” You huffed, placing the letter down onto your desk, “It is kind of cute though.”

Noah raised an eyebrow and leaned forward on his elbows, “I’ll be the judge of that, let’s hear it.”

You read the contents of the letter out to Noah- who looked like he was holding back a laugh the whole time. You huffed at him, tilting your head to the side and practically pouting once you finished, “Stop.”

“What?” Noah snorted, elongating the word slightly as he attempted to come as innocent. You returned this with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms, “Alright, alright. I have to admit it’s pretty cute...who do you think it could be then?”

You shrugged, there were hundreds of people at your school alone, let alone the whole of LA, “I have no clue.”

“What if it’s Marco?”

You laughed at the sheer stupidity of Noah’s words, almost wiping away tears once you were done, “As if.”

“What?” Noah crowed, frowning, “I’m serious, when I was around he used to stare at you all the time. I doubt he’s changed much, if your wardrobe change over the summer is anything to go by.”

“In my dreams, Flynn.”

-

Despite your original rejection of Noah’s statement, it stuck in your mind for days to come. You weren’t going to lie, you had caught Marco staring at you a number of times; the reason for that being that you had been staring at him too. You had liked Marco for months, the boy’s dark curly hair and gorgeous build had you enamoured from the get-go. But, then you had been paired together for a project and you’d really gotten to know him. Although at times he could be blunt and quite cold; he was hilarious and really intelligent. Seeing the personality behind the pretty face had caused you to fall fast, but eventually the project was over and daily interactions became shy smiles in passing. Sure, your friendship groups crossed paths from time to time but you just didn’t have the confidence to start anything. So, you were stuck with a relentless crush. Gross. 

You were at your locker on Tuesday, rifling through it as you searched for the textbook you had left in there and desperately needed. As your fingers finally swiped across the book, they were also met with a different slip of paper. You paused, heart speeding as you slowly pulled it out. It couldn’t be. 

Nevertheless, in your hand lay a slip of paper identical to the one that you had received a few days prior- you once again unfolded it and got to reading the note within. 

Dear Y/N,

Now that I have expressed the way I feel, I have an urge to tell you more. 

Your smile is so beautiful and your laugh lights up the room. The way you always tuck your hair behind your ears is really cute too. 

Yours sincerely, 

Your secret admirer

A blush highlighted your cheeks as you subconsiously tucked your hair behind your ears, almost slapping yourself for doing so. No, you were not going to let a few little compliments break you down like that- but then your eyes landed upon the small heart illustrated below the sign off. You swallowed heavily and fanned yourself in an excuse to compose yourself before your next class begin. You spotted Lee, Elle and Rachel heading your way and shoved the letter into your bag before skipping over to them with your usual bright smile as if nothing was wrong. 

-

The letters continued like that; they were always in your locker and they always entailed some form of compliment. You found yourself expecting them most mornings, running to your locker to see whether or not a note had been slipped into the grates whilst you weren’t around. 

One particular morning, you were in a frenzied rush- sprinting to your locker in order to grab the essentials so that your day wouldn’t be a complete flop. As you wrenched open your locker you spotted another familiar letter, with a huff you shoved it into your pocket before practically pouring your belongings into your bag. You’d read it later, you had to focus on actually getting to class. 

Thankfully, you did arrive to the class on time. But, you were last and the teacher was moments away from beginning the lesson. 

“Nice of you to join us, Miss L/N” 

“Sorry miss,” You twisted your lips apologetically before making your way to the only seat in the class, which was positioned right in the middle of two ‘popular’ girls, “Shit.” You muttered before ultimately sucking it up. Your friends on the other side of the room each shot you sympathetic looks.

After a quick observation, you noted that Marco was sat one row back and directly diagonal to you. The girls on either side of you were each twirling their hair and blowing their bubble gum obnoxiously, paying no mind to the lesson before them. You decided to just get to work, ignoring the possibility of a pair of eyes watching from behind. 

About half way through the lesson, you were reminded of the unread letter that had been shoved into your pocket in your rush. Checking the room for any intrusive eyes, you took the note from your pocket and began to read.

Dear Y/N,

You look really beautiful when you- 

Before you could continue to read the letter, it was wrenched out of your hands violently by one of the girls beside you. 

“Now what do we have here?” She giggled, moving with unexpected stealth as you tried to take back the letter, “Aw, you look really beautiful when you concentrate, yours sincerely your secret admirer.” A chorus of giggles sounded from the students surrounding you as you sat in shock, mortification evident in your features. 

“Who would want to be their secret admirer?” A voice sounded from behind you, “She’s lucky enough to be friends with Noah Flynn.”

Yet another chorus of laughs sounded from around you, but before you could escape from the personal hell that was this classroom, a voice sounded from diagonal to you, “I want to be.” 

The room froze and time slowed down as you turned to the owner of the voice, your eyes landing on Marco who was staring right back at you; nervousness with a hint of determination was evident in his eyes. You shook your head, feeling way too overwhelmed, “I can’t do this.”

The entire class watched as you gathered up your belongings and hightailed out of the room and as Marco did exactly the same and sprinted after you. 

“Y/N! Y/N!” You wiped the streaming tears from your face as you turned to face Marco who was quickly approaching you, his face was split open in a mix of raw emotions. 

“What Marco? If this is some kind of sick joke I don’t want to hear it.”

“No, no Y/N.” He cooed, taking hold of your wrists in an attempt to calm you down, “I wasn’t joking. I was the one who sent the letters- I really like you Y/N and I couldn’t watch them talking about you like that.”

You hiccuped, feeling a fresh trail of tears falling from your eyes, leaving a glistening trail in their wake, “Oh god.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry.” 

“But Marco-” You blew out a breath and almost preened under his gaze, “I haven’t spoken to you in months, how could you like me?”

“Well,” He began, moving a stray hair behind your ear, “Did you not read my letters.”

You laughed lightly, a small burst of breaths coming from your mouth, “Yeah, but-”

“Then what I said there are my reasons for liking you.”

You grinned up at him as your teeth sunk into your lip bashfully, you caught onto his eyes zeroing onto that factor. So, you took a leap and pressed your lips against his and moved to bury your hands into his hair. He responded immediately, cupping your cheeks with his hands as he pressed back with obvious enthusiasm and want. 

-

“So, you were right- it was Marco.”

“I knew it!”

-

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[kz-i-co]

If Scars Could Dissapear

Request: "Hi, ummm...I have no idea how to go about this but, I'll give it my best shot! I have no idea If you are still taking requests, but if you are, I'd like you to make one on Hyungwon. With angst and fluff and a depressed reader (10 out of 10 description) because I'm a depressed little sh*t. You don't have to if you don't want to, i understand that you are busy with other past requests and I just thought I'd throw in a request. I'd like to see what you would do with this request IF you even decide to write it. You write your imagines/oneshots (I don't know what you call them!) with amazing detail and I thought I would request this to see how you would go about it. Once again, I understand if you don't accept it, I know you must be very busy with other things but I thought it wouldn't hurt to try. I'm going to end this here because I think I might have made it a little to long, with that being said, bye bye!" - MoMoIsNotFine

Pairing: Hyungwon x Reader

Genre: angst x fluff: depressed reader au

Words: 3k

A/N: I hope this one shot is okay for you. It's a sensitive topic and I hope I don't offend anyone in anyway. I think dealing with depression and suicide is very horrific and needs to be talked about more.

M.list | MX masterlist

You closed the mirror as your eyes were dark with bags, purplish bruises showing that you haven't slept in days. Everything was hazy.

"(Y/N) it's time to take your medication." The nurse spoke to the right of you.

She was forced to keep an eye on you during and that's exactly what she did as you shoved them in your mouth and swallowed a glass of water.

"Tongue." You rolled your eyes as you opened your mouth showing no pills in sight.

"It's time to settle down." The nurse spoke.

"Can I get something from the vending machine first and watch a movie?" You asked.

"Okay." She gave you an accepting expression as she knew you were trying to bend the rules.

"Be back soon." She spoke as you grabbed your cardigan to wear over your warm pajamas and sliding your feet into your nice comfy slippers.

You sighed dragging your feet to the closest machine. You have been at this hospital for two weeks now and you were done seeing the same old scenery everyday. You just wanted to go home already.

You made it to the machine seeing a tall boy selecting something that forced you to wait. You never noticed him before actually. You thought you knew everyone in the juvenile unit.

You sighed loudly as your patience became the worst of you. The boy grabbed what he wanted and bowed respectfully, making you feel guilty immediately.

"Thanks." You said quietly as he stayed quiet.

You wondered what he was here for? Everyone had a different reason that always has an interesting story behind it.

You wandered back down to your hallway seeing the tall boy aimlessly wonder into his room noticing you in the process. He softly waved as a small smile formed onto his pale face.

You waved back but couldn't help but grow confused. What was his story?

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You scrolled through your phone bored out your mind as every channel was slowly becoming more and more irrelevant, making you want to pull your hair out. You rolled your eyes seeing random dumb Facebook post and ads filling the white screen, but the further you scrolled the more irritated you have become. Seeing your best friends hanging out at parties, not having a care about the world, especially you at the moment. Sure some would argue "you did this to yourself" but seeing how the people closest to you don't even care was a turn in the blade that was already cutting through the surface.

You ended up throwing your phone across the room, causing two loud bangs as it hit the wall and once again to the floor.

After having a little crying fit, you heard a soft knock on your door but choose to ignore it. But instead of another knock a small piece of paper slid underneath instead causing you to grow confused. You thought it was a nurse that knocked but now you couldn't help but wonder. You got up seeing the note on the floor with a simple message that caused you to softly grin.

"Are you okay?" The message said.

You grabbed your pen from your bedside table and wrote back to the stranger that awaited on the other side of the door.

"Who wants to know?"

"A worried neighbor." The note slide back. You couldn't help but smile as you finally decided to open the door. You saw the boy that stood out to you early sitting up against his door across the hall. He smiled softly as you just closed your door so you could sit and lean against it as well.

You took the note back and turned it over to start a new question. "Why are you so concerned?" You slide the note, leaning forward as he leaned meeting in the middle to grab it.

He took his pen writing something, continuing this weird game of telephone and slid it back over as you were already growing with anticipation. "In a place like this....doesn't everyone?"

"So why are you here?" You slide over the note once again.

He wrote something down but then hesitated to write more. "It's a secret.......but I bet your guess is as good as mine."

You couldn't help but giggle from his response. You figured your guess was as good as anyone else.

He was just like the rest of us in this hospital.

Just kids lost in the darkest parts of our own thoughts. The ones that can't control the temptation that is being spoken at every turn.

It's not like we are crazy. Just depressed.

"Thank you for cheering me up." You slid the note back one last time before receiving a soft smile and a simple wave and finally giving in to a long awaited good nights rest. You felt like it was the night you can finally let yourself have it as you found someone that understands you with the simplest of words.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You dragged your feet, counting the tiles in the process as you made your way to the cafeteria. Once you saw the area, your eyes glanced across the room seeing the boy that couldn't leave your mind. Before you knew it, you were standing in front of his table about to sit down.

"Hi....mind if I sit?" He nodded as a soft smile left his lips. "Just wanted to confirm....you were the stranger at my door right?"

He nodded once again, not saying a word. Did he ever speak?

"Thank you about yesterday. You actually cheered me up." Nothing but a smile. "Umm...do you ever talk?" You finally asked but he just looked down playing with his food.

"I'm sorry." He reached his hand out to gently caress your hand comfortably. Then he slid a note across the table with a simple reply, responding in ink. "You're welcome"

Why didn't he speak?

He looked down at your hand once again noticing another clue to why you were here so you couldn't help but pull away.

"Oh that's nothing." You smiled softly.

He flipped through his little notebook again quickly replying. "You want to be friends?"

"Of course." You smiled brightly.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You heard your daily knock as the morning was approaching and you were already up drawing on the back of your medical pamphlet from your lack of sleep that continued to haunt your days.

"I found this outside, miss (Y/N)." The nurse handed you a note from the one and only. You couldn't help but smile reading a simple "good morning".

"There it is." You looked up as you heard her voice. "I haven't seen you smile since you've been here."

You rolled your eyes as she continued to giggle. "I'm so happy you two are finding a friendship with each other."

"But I think we have to increase your dosage with the melatonin and l-theanine." She wrote on her clipboard. "We need those circles gone."

"Don't you think drugging me to be unconscious is the appropriate way to handle this." She glared at you.

"You need sleep dear. It's good for you."

"I have been sleeping though, much better."

"Yes, it's true. But we need just a little more."

"Jeez, my 2 hours turned into 5 and that's still not enough?" You proudly said sarcastically.

"Nope."

"Can I ask you a question." You began changing the subject. "Do you know why he doesn't speak? I know it's none of my business-"

"Hyungwon? He has a very traumatic past like a lot of you kids here." You come to realize that you never even knew his name.

"Unfortunately It's not my place to disclose that information. But what I can tell you is....continue to speak with him. He likes that." She continued as she started to walk out of the room. "Who knows, maybe he will tell you himself."

....

"Hey." You smiled as you stood outside his door. "I've come to realize that I have never properly introduce myself.....I'm (Y/N)." You held your hand out.

He smiled but quickly grabbed his notebook writing the name that you have already been spoiled. "Nice to meet you Hyungwon. Shall we go to lunch?"

He smiled.

"May I ask you something? And trust me you don't have to answer anything that makes you uncomfortable." You began. "But do you know how long you're in here for?"

He wrote. "Until I get better I guess."

"When will that be?" You continued to ask.

"When I speak." He wrote.

"I'm sorry but that's nonsense." You quickly grew insulted. Not with him of course but whoever is keeping him here. "There's nothing wrong with you if you choose not to talk."

"Thank you (Y/N) but I'm starting to like it here now."

You couldn't help but blush. You felt the same, all you wanted was to leave this place since you've gotten here but now you felt comfort within these walls. Or more importantly, the person sitting in front of you.

"I don't know how long I'm stuck here either. I guess until I get a proper good nights sleep is the starter." You giggled to yourself. "I've felt this burden inside of me as long as I can remember. I don't think I can get fixed, it's just who I am and I have to learn to live with that."

You looked up to see him just sympathetically smile.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"Miss (Y/N), you have a visitor." Your nurse smiled as she opened the door wider to reveal your parents.

Seeing your parents, you couldn't help but feel hatred as the memories flooded back to you since they dropped you off. Not a call, not a visit for weeks. But the thing was your head wasn't flooded with emotions, at least not anymore, not since the drugs kicked in. The only thing you wanted to do now is show how much appreciation you learned from being here. You founded yourself embraced in a huge hug from your father and next your mother and honestly, you didn't want to let go. You missed them dearly and you understood that they love you and want you to get better.

"That's a good sigh." Your mother spoke and you looked up seeing her eyes flooded with tears. "We missed you so much."

"Me too." Was all you said. Your heart was still sore but it's getting better.

"You look so much better." Your mother caressed your face. "You'll be coming home sooner then your know it."

You stayed silent. You didn't know what to say honestly.

"Thank you for coming."

"We bought you your sketch book. You forgot it."

"Thank you." You smiled. "This will help take my mind off some things."

"How's it going in here?" Your nurse smiled seeing the family reunion.

"It's great." Your mother answered. "(Y/N) will be home before we know it."

"Yes of course. She has made great progress since she's been here. Even the circles are fading a bit."

"And she's even made a friend." Your nurse continued.

"Oh really?" Your mother spoke with an weary tone.  Like she wants you friends with other crazy kids stuck in this hell hole.

"Oh yeah......he's nice."

"Yes, they both have improved tremendously since they've met." Your nurse continued.

"You think that's acceptable to have patients mess with other patients while dealing with their own problems?" Your mother asked.

"Not at all ma'am.....it's best not to let our patients be isolated, communicating is the best way to deal with such problems. It's not about fixing our problems it's about learning to live with it." She sure as hell, shut your mother up.

"Of course". Your mother smiled.

...

Later after your parents left in a more resentful way then before, you began drawing immediately, almost like you were desperate to express what you missed out in weeks. It was a way to relax, forgot about the world around you and let yourself take in the simple tip of a pencil, mechanical you might add.

You couldn't help but draw a funny animation of Hyungwon and his silent mockery. You imagined him sweet and mute on the outside but on the inside him yelling for attention. Sure it was a dark meaning but the animation viewed it in a different perspective. Not everything needed to be so fragile and hidden away to never be talked about but to show that it's okay to deal with such dark topics and just learn to smile.

You knocked on his door and as soon as he opened it you revealed your drawing with a bright smile. He giggled softly as he let you in his room to probably write down his opinion, which of course he did.

"Thank you." He first wrote. "I love it."

"You're really good." He continued to write.

"Thank you. I've been drawing since I was 12." You smiled. "Do you have any request?"

You read his request as he started jotting things down. He wanted something you couldn't quite imagine. He wanted to be seen as a disk jockey releasing sound waves to make everyone feel happy and forget about this shitty world; to just let people stop and enjoy it while they can.

You pictured it more as he was using music to brainwash everyone but instead of mindless zombies, they were happy. "So musical zombies?" You perked up.

He rolled his eyes at your remark.

"I hate to be lame but I'm really glad I met you, you don't even have to say a word and you're the only one that is here for me."

"My friends haven't even messaged me if I was okay, or even cared enough to visit. My parents act like they care but they didn't have the patients to help me, instead just ship me off to a loony bin - no offense." You felt your eyes water but no tears to shed.

Hyungwon grabbed your hand, holding it softly. "I'm sorry." He whispered that it took you a second to realize he actually spoke instead of writing it down.

You didn't want to make a big deal about it but instead leaned in closer into his warm embrace. His hugs felt like they actually had intentions and feelings instead of a meaningless gesture.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Of course you knew your time in this place would be ending soon but you never know how quick the day would come. It would probably be longer if your parents weren't such paranoid pricks. They are scared of the idea of you friends with someone who is just as messed up as you.

"You think I'm ready to go?" You asked your nurse as you started packing?

"I think you're ready. You were stubborn to get help at first but you really opened up and I'm so proud. I think you just needed someone to understand what you're going through and I'm not talking about me or your parents, but a friend."

"Thank you." You smiled simply. "Can I visit said friend before I leave."

"Of course." And you immediately got up going next door to see an empty room, but of course you knew where your friend was hiding.

You walked into the chapel as your friend was messing with the only music source in this whole hospital. The site made you smile just seeing him mess with the synthesizer, but then it quickly faded as you had to break the news.

"Hey." You sat down next to him. "What you playing?"

"Stuff." He spoke lowly. Hyungwon has opened to you since that night a week ago, he's no chatterbox or anything but he's actually talking again and you felt happy it was because of you.

"I have to tell you something." You said more serious. "I'm.....going home."

"Home."

"But I promise I'll visit and then we can hangout once you leave." You we're trying to hold back your tears.

"It's okay." He whispered as he grabbed your hand.

"I don't want to leave." Then the tears finally fell. "I mean I wanted to leave since I've got here but I don't want to leave you." He tugged you to lean in closer.

"There you are (Y/N). Your parents are here." Your nurse spoke from the door and she immediately felt sympathetic.

You wiped your tears and leaned in kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you for everything you've done for me. I will see you later."

"Promise." He smiled.

"Promise." You held out your pinky, making it an official contract.

And with that you stepped out that door leaving behind your home away from home. The place you fought for weeks and weeks to leave. But now you were finally leaving but you didn't want to....

And it was all because of him.

[caffeinated-cryptid]

bishop to castle; check.

3.8k words | AO3 link | tags/warnings: suicidal behaviour, risk of falling from a height, talking someone down from a ledge, hurt/comfort, platonic roceit, positive ending.

“After weeks of moping post-POF, Janus goes into the imagination to find Roman. They end up having a much more intense conversation than he could have ever planned for.”

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

Janus hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Roman since their last argument. It was fine, probably, he justified to himself, despite how Patton had returned from their talk with pursed lips and worriedly furrowed eyebrows. He likely just needed time to process everything that had happened, and Janus wasn’t going to push that. 

(His reluctance to address the issue had nothing to do with the fact that he dreaded another confrontation. Totally not.)

After all, forcing his presence on Roman now could potentially only make things worse. So instead he would just have to wait for him to come around first-- to calm down enough to be willing to hear him out without resorting to name-calling.

Janus was plenty busy anyway, what with his new position in Thomas’ life. More than smoothing over one less-than-steller relationship with a side (which Janus was collecting like pokemon cards recently, it seemed), he elected to focus on ensuring Thomas held true to his promises of self-care, which meant working with Patton more often.

That wasn’t so terrible, at least it wasn’t as bad as the him from a year ago would have expected; the side was trying harder to welcome his contributions which he appreciated. Though inadvertantly through this new partnership, he found himself being dragged into more casual hang-outs, where they would do nothing but...chat. Sharing daily anecdotes and worries and secrets about themselves. It was strangely open and the sort of thing Janus had to adjust to, but with this new friendship he had found himself in, he did his best not to ruin it.

“I’m getting worried.” Patton admitted one day, setting down the tv remote after a finished screening of some Air Bud spinoff. How Janus had been wrangled into watching that ceaseless dog series was beyond him. “I think the others might be starting to come around to you, but Roman...”

Patton didn’t need to finish his sentence, because Janus already knew what he meant. With Virgil and Logan, he’d been making an effort to try to prove his worth as a member of the team (whether or not that was working was yet to be seen, despite Patton's generous assertions that it would all work out eventually), but he hadn’t even gotten the chance do to that with the creative side. As much as he had first assumed that time and space would do the trick, it seemed like that wasn’t the case after all.

 “I suppose a confrontation is inevitable.” He grimaced, knowing that this had been put off for long enough.

“Would you do that?” Patton asked suddenly, looking to him with relief. It made Janus realize that it sounded like he had signed up to go talk to Roman himself.

“Uh...” Janus tensed, his previous concerns surfacing again. “I don’t think I would be the best suited to have this conversation-”

“Oh- Pleeease? You two need to talk most of all! Besides, when I went, he wouldn’t even...” Patton trailed off, biting his lip with a pout. “...Could you try, at least? Maybe you could get through to him.”

“...Alright. I’ll go before lunch.” Janus agreed begrudgingly, rewarded by Patton’s grateful smile. Stupid puppy face. That would have to stop working eventually.

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

That was how Janus found himself in the lawless lands of The Imagination.

It had filled him with dread, knocking on the red and gold door and recieving no response. Even more so when he risked intruding anyway and seeing the wrecked state of the room, and then noticing the entrance to The Imagination wide open.

Unsurprisingly, that was where he found the side in question. More surprising was when he did, finding him sitting on the edge of the tallest turret of his castle, like he had decided to overlook his kingdom in the most dangerous way possible. Janus wasn’t so naive to assume that was all it was though.

Roman probably saw him approach as he ran the rest of the way to the castle, and that pushed him to go faster, dashing through the lonely walls of the old building until he was climbing up those spiralling stairs all the way to the top. When he finally made it, he stood there doubled over and completely out of breath as he adjusted to the high altitude winds that bit at his cheeks. He used the seconds he took to catch his bearings to figure out what to do-- his eyes never once leaving Roman’s back, who luckily hadn’t moved at all during his frantic dash. Perhaps his insticts had been wrong and there was nothing dangerous going on here. Every part of him screamed to stay and stop whatever this was though-- so he did.

��Roman.” He ended up saying once his breath had evened out, and nothing more. There was too much going on in his head to break whatever balance they currently had; too much to ask, too much to say, to explain, to defend, to try to understand.

Said side turned his head slightly to make eye-contact; not facing him, yet it was acknowledgement at least. “Deceit.” He said after a beat. His voice was cold, but not angry, and for some reason Janus would have prefered it if Roman were upset with him. Anything but this odd indifference that made him feel guilty for not summoning up the courage to check in sooner.

“Janus.” Janus corrected in an invitation to use his name. He intended it as a sign of goodwill, but Roman’s face twitched and he looked away again, this time his focus on the ground directly below.

“I came to talk.” Janus said in an attempt at a distraction. He was disheartened when Roman made no move to acknowledge him again, so he continued despite his uneasiness. "Would you please come down?”

“What? Scared, Deceit? I'm not doing anything. I'm not going to either, so you can go back to whoever sent you and tell them I’m fine.” Roman scoffed and the string of lies felt bitter in the fridgid air, enveloping him like an unwanted hug. If possible, Janus’ heart begun racing even quicker.

He wanted to protest and say that he had come of his own volition, but Janus knew that lying right now wouldn’t do either of them any good. “In that case, would you do it for my peace of mind?” He tried instead, and it earned him a wry smile, sent from over Roman’s shoulder.

“What ever gave you the impression I care about that?” Roman shot back, standing up only to turn on his heel to step down into the crenel next to him, then back up onto the the next merlon. He continued, going up and down and slowly circling around Janus like a predator would it's prey, but somehow he didn't feel like the one being hunted here. Actually, it was more like he was trying to convince a mouse that the cheese on a trap wasn't worth it. And being a snake himself, that simile was especially ironic.

“...That’s fair. We can talk like this, then. I wanted to apologize and hopefully make amends.”

Roman’s footing twisted haphazardly and Janus all but shot forward to steady him until he was given a deadly glare that froze him in his tracks.

“Stay back! You're not fooling me again. As far as I know, you'll just try to convince me to take a swan dive right of the side of this tower. No greater depth to plummet to than that, huh?"

“I- that's the complete opposite of what I want.” Janus stressfully replied, fighting against the urge to pull Roman off of the edge and end this whole thing himself, instead holding up his hands as a sign that he wouldn’t come closer. God, where had he gone so wrong go end up in this situation? He should have convinced Patton to come with him when he had the chance-- at least he probably would have had a better idea on how to get through to Roman when he was like this. Comparitively, Janus had no clue. He didn’t have the trustworthiness or the years of friendship.

“I believe you. You've already made it so clear just how much you care.” Roman replied sarcastically. Janus felt his hackles rising.

“I’m not lying! I didn't want any of this.” Janus gestured around. “There's so much I wish I could take back, but especially whatever I did to cause this.”

“Oh, Janus.” He felt a small dose of hope when Roman finally used his name, which was quickly dashed as he huffed out a laugh. “Always thinking you have a finger in every pie. Isn't it enough for me to come to this conclusion by myself?”

He continued bitterly, practically stomping his way around the edge of the tower now. “It's not like it was hard. Even an idiotic egomaniac prince like myself can tell when he's not wanted anymore. When the dream has died.”

Janus, despite the silver tongue he may possess, struggled for words in the face of Roman’s insecurity. He had wanted the anger because he had assumed it would be easier to prove that he wasn’t as evil as Roman was so keen to accuse him of being. He just hadn’t expected this issue to be so deeply sensitive. (Though perhaps he should have picked up on that hint when he saw the other side looking ready to jump to a temporary death). “Thats not true at all, you’re incredibly important and all of us need you. Perhaps we’re operating under new rules now, but that doesn’t mean you’re not wanted.”

But it seemed that wasn’t the best thing to say. Roman stopped in his tracks, his expression unreadable as he began shaking with fury or perhaps something else. “...If I’m ‘so important’, why does it never feel that way? Why am I the only one who has to change constantly for rules that can never stay the same? Why do I have to make sacrifices and tone down my voice?”

His controlled tone got louder and more stressed. “Why are my best efforts never good enough? Why are my doubts ignored? Why is it considered fair to disparage my work? To ignore the blood, sweat, and tears I put into everything?”

Janus stared in horror as Roman kept going, yelling over anything he could have possibly wanted to say.

“Why does it take this to be be fucking noticed?!”

Both of them paused when his rant reached a screaming crescendo and fat angry tears rolled down Roman's cheeks.

"...Forgive me if I'm having a little difficulty trusting what you say right now.” He sniffed, ducking his head away to wipe his eyes. The words were distant despite the soft way they were uttered.

Once again Janus was lost for what to say as he watched Roman compose himself. There was simply too much there to unpack, too many years of built-up stress and resentment. What in the absolute hell had these sides been doing all this time? “...I do wish to take some responsibility for that, though. Your hesitancy to trust again.” That seemed like a good place to start, if any.

Roman only snorted humourlessly at his efforts though, voice tired and unenthused. “I'm sure you would. It's a lot easier to sweep aside a broken vase rather than acknowledge its cracks when they’re forming, after all. That was the lesson you taught us, right?”

Janus winced at the callback to his first appearence to Thomas. He didn’t necessarily regret that day, but having it thrown back now made it feel like something to be ashamed of; seeing his lessons interpreted in such a way. “...Is that how you see yourself? Broken?” He asked instead, squashing down his indignation.

He only got silence in return. Janus swallowed, definitely regretting his hesitance to resolve this issue now.

“Roman, even though I doubt you’d trust my words, I promise that we're not trying to simply ‘sweep this aside’. If we're going with the vase metaphor, all of us want a chance to try to glue the pieces back together. Make right on all of the ways you’ve been wronged.” When that got no response, he tentatively asked, “Have you ever heard of Kintsugi?"

“...Broken pottery fixed with gold, I'm aware. But trying to apply that right now is sloppy, even for you. People are never so beautiful after being so thoroughly broken, nor is it that easy." Slowly, Roman sat down on the edge, and even though his legs were dangling over the wrong side, Janus' heart finally felt some semblance of rest. He took a step forward.

"I disagree. Kinstugi is rarely an straight-forward process either, and yet it achieves such splendid results with just a little patience and care. Which is to say... while it may not be the easiest thing to do, there’s undeniably beauty and strenght in survival. Trying again even when it feels impossible.”

“Of course you'd think that, Mr. Kill or be killed. You have no choice in whether you get to continue forward. But I do.”

Janus paused at that, only four paces away from Roman now. The creative side startled when he peered backwards and saw him so close, and then he glared at Janus as he stood up again, this time facing him fully. His foot slid backwards until the worn-down structure crumbled under his heel, sending rocks tumbling down below. It was a warning, Janus realized as his blood frooze in his veins.

“Don’t look so shocked. I control everything here, or did you forget?” Roman smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile or even a smug one; it only looked like he was stretching his mouth unnaturally, all pretenses of putting on a convincing performance stripped away. “If I want, I could have a Pegasus fly by and save me at the right moment. Or I could expand the moat to catch me. Or..."

Roman looked frustrated for a second when he couldn't think of anything else, even more so when Janus patiently waited for him to think of another example. In the end, he gave up.

"The point is, I call the shots about what happens to me."

"But would you? Save yourself?" Janus questioned hesitantly. He knew he was treading on thin ice, so he left it there. Roman raised an eyebrow at him and he returned it, making it clear that he wanted an answer. He recieved it with a scoff.

“Of course I would. What kind of question is that?”

Lie.

Janus winced. “Roman... You are aware of my ability to detect lies, yes?”

The creative side blinked in surprise and then looked at him with wide eyes, as if he hadn’t expected to be called out. Like it had been so natural to brush aside the question that he didn’t even realize his own feelings. Fortunately, Janus’ ability was too keen to be fooled by one’s own self-deception. He could see below the surface like that; pull people’s hidden truths from them and keep them for himself, like a keeper of forbidden knowledge (Though in moments like these, sometimes he wished he couldn’t. Ignorance truly is bliss).

“Should I ask again?” He pressed. “Are you really planning on saving yourself?”

This time Roman’s face screwed up in confliction and he directed his gaze to the floor of the tower. It was an awfully clinical way to ask, but it felt necessary to stop dancing around what was important-- this casual show of self-destruction.

Eventually, the other cracked with a tired huff of laughter. Sadly genuine this time.

“...It's certainly nice to think that I could.” Roman admitted as he rubbed his face, apparently not mad at being called out this time. “Finally being a hero again, even if it's only to myself.”

Janus paused in shock. Was he still misinterpreting that moment?

“That wasn't a lie.” Janus blurted out, taking even himself by surprise by the thoughtless exclamation. “Thomas still thinks of you as his hero. There’s no need to do things like this to prove it.”

Romans eyes went watery and he avoided his gaze.

“At this point I don't think it matters, when I haven’t been acting like it at all lately.” He whispered coarsely, uncharacteristically quiet compared to the wind. “Frankly, I'm surprised you're even trying to stop me."

Janus eyes softened and he took another tentative step forward, then another when Roman didn't react badly. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m not just Deceit, you know. Part of my job is to help you.”

“...Because you hate me? At this point you have more reasons to than not.” Roman explained warily, looking at him like Janus were seconds away from snapping and shoving him over the edge. It hurt to have that sort of mistrust placed on him, but at the same time Janus understood it. He had often been in that sort of situation before; doubting the safety of opening up to other people. That was just part of his job, to be doubtful and wary in order to protect the self. Yet to see it so openly on somebody else felt like a punch to the gut, even though he should have been used to that feeling of being distrusted by now.

“Do you think me so sensitive that a schoolyard insult would make you my archenemy? Or being called evil? That is...sort of what I’ve been going for.” He cracked a joke, gesturing to his outfit. When Roman kept staring at him he sighed. “Of course I don’t hate you, Roman.”

Roman shifted doubtfully. “That doesn’t mean you like me, either. Maybe it doesn’t mean much to you, but you should know how- how being called that hurt me.”

"...Yes.” It was Janus’ turn to be uncomfortable. “Perhaps at first I felt attacked and wanted to make you feel the same hurt, but I would never have said that had I known just how deeply it would have impacted you. I’m sorry for that.”

Roman’s expression turned incredulous, like he couldn’t believe Janus had apologized. “...You know, I wanted to make you upset. I wanted you gone.”

“I figured.” Janus nodded.

“And that doesn’t change anything? Even though I acted so...” Roman bit his lip. “So unheroic?”

Janus stifled a sigh. By now, he really hated that word with a passion. It had caused so many high standards, so many instances of self-sacrifice, so many misguided attempts at selflessness and perfection. Perhaps later they could talk about it all and lay out why it had done so much harm, but for now he decided not to push it, not when he felt so close to getting a breakthrough.

“Believe it or not, but I think that you've been plenty heroic already. This whole time you've been fighting for something you thought was valient and noble, and that means something, even if it was for a misguided cause.”

That took Roman off-guard. He moved his foot away from the edge subtley, and had Janus not been focused on his face, he would have considered it a small victory.

“...What’s the point of all of this, really? Is this some... some dastardly plot?” Roman questioned skeptically. He was looking even more cornered now that he was letting Janus’ words sink in.

“All I'm here for is to offer the helping hand you need, if you’ll accept it.” Janus said softly as he extended his hand up to him. “Really, my only plot right now is to get you off that ledge before you give me a heart attack. Please?”

Roman stared at him, desperately trying to find some sort of mistruth in his eyes before his gaze lowered to the outsretched hand. It felt like time slowed in the seconds he was making his decision and Janus held his breath, waiting...wating... until finally the other side nodded and took his hand.

With Janus’ help, Roman stepped down, looking confused and lost now that he was away from the edge. The expression pained Janus’ heart, so he opened his arms half expecting rejection, only to be taken back by how quickly Roman latched onto him. Janus wasted no time clinging back, so relieved that he actually suceeded that he didn't want to risk ever letting go, like this moment could be torn away at any second. It was no surprise when he felt the other’s chest jerk with held-back sobs until there was a wetness on his shoulder, and he didn't say anything about it. He didn't need to either, because Roman spoke up first.

“It didn’t mean anything. Really!” He exclaimed through messy tears. “I was only thinking about it!”

Lie.

“...It's okay if it was more than that.” Janus soothed, patting his back. “It's okay to feel low and in need of help.”

That made him cry harder and Janus was relieved to see the excess of emotions finally pour out. While waiting for Roman to calm down, he had to fight for his own tears to not spill over. Inevitably, the stress of the situation finally caught up when the adrenaline wore off, and he sagged into the hug, sniffling quietly and trying not to fall over on his aching legs. He really just sprinted up multiple flights of stairs, didn’t he? Belatedly, he realized that he must have lost his hat at some point during the journey because he could feel the wind tousle his hair.

It would have been funny if it weren’t for the absolute rush of emotions he had just gone through.

The two of them stood there for what would normally be considered an awkward amount of time, except the act of simply hugging on solid ground was the biggest comfort in the world, too much to ruin the moment. They waited until they got through the worst of their tears before they dared speak again. Once again, Roman went first.

“Sorry for laughing at you back then.” He said, voice reflecting the yelling and crying he'd been doing. It felt genuine. “I actually really like your name...the mythology suits you. Very dramatic.” 

Janus laughed wetly, finally a true statement. “Why, thank you. And I apologize for where I’ve wronged you.”

Finally, they straightened up. Roman took one look at him and summoned hankerchiefs for them both. Janus accepted it and wiped away his tears as gracefully as he could.

“Hopefully we can have a more in-depth discussion on this later, but for now Patton and I prepared lunch, if you’d be willing to have us.” Janus asked, hopes raised.

“...That sounds good.” Roman smiled.

Janus smiled back.

Together, the two of them descended down the steps of the tower, and the imagination was the slightest bit sunnier when they reached the outside.

[kinktae]

flesh and blood || (M)

You are living in a society that is just now picking up the scraps that the Great Outbreak left behind after the government killed off the majority of the zombies. Still, some remain, and fear still lies within society’s walls. So imagine your surprise when the very thing you’ve been taught to fear ends up saving your life, showing you that maybe two beating hearts aren't always required when it comes to love.

pairing: zombie!jungkook x reader

word count: 6k

genre: post-apocalyptic, sci-fi, smut

warnings: guns, a semi spooky scene, crack plot written seriously, zombie jk falling for Y/N, part 2 will have smut

A/N: inspired by warm bodies and the fact that I'm a legitimate crackhead. Happy Halloween!

01 | 02 | 03

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PART ONE 

❝ Breaking News! A group of Walkers has been discovered hiding in the ruins of a Pre-Break Out industrial zone. A conference was held in City Hall where a representative of the DEAD Team said this in regards to the situation…❞

"Ugh, turn it down Junny," You grumbled, tugging your blanket over your head in hopes to null out the sound of the overly enthusiastic broadcaster on the television, "I'm trying to nap here."

"No way! Dad, did you hear? They found a family of zombies in our town!" Your younger brother enthused, wide eyes glued to the glass screen of the TV. He was sat beside your feet on the couch you laid on and you fought the urge to kick him off the furniture.

Your mother and father walked into the room shortly after, Junny's yells summoning their attention.

Rolling over, you sat up to see your dad standing behind the couch, arms crossed over his chest as he offered the screen his undivided attention.

Though the worst times of the Great Outbreak were now thought to be over – there hadn't been a reported zombie attack in years – the fear still lingered. You were just an infant when the zombie infestation was at its worst so perhaps that fear never had the chance to sink its filthy claws into you but you weren’t naive to the way the rest of the world still trembled.

Your father’s expression was solemn and impenetrable; if it weren’t for the way his eyes always gave away what he was truly feeling, you wouldn’t have a clue that he was upset. Glimmering behind his pupils were flashes of anger and consternation, along with memories of a story you had yet to hear.

Two decades ago, your father, along with many other young men and women, had volunteered to team up with the government to help contain the outbreak, hunting down and capturing zombies so they could be whisked off to a facility where they were killed in quarantine.

While the cause of the breakout seemed to be agreed upon, there was still much about the walking dead that remained a mystery to the general public.

Decades before the Great Outbreak, an experimental drug by the name of Immortuos had been growing in popularity. It was said to do anything from alleviating chronic pain to ridding the body of illness altogether. Ten years after its introduction, Immortuos had been administered to millions around the world. As time went on, however, the drug began to show signs of short term effectiveness; within a couple of years, symptoms of the illnesses it was meant to cure began to show up in individuals once again.

Immortuos was quickly discontinued and sent back into research, leaving scientists scratching their heads as they tried to figure out where they went wrong.

And so life went on; people, old and young, continued to live and die as they did before. However, years after the drug's discontinuation, a story broke out of a mortuary that came to life in the middle of the night in a rural town in Spain. And that was how the outbreak began, millions of corpses everywhere suddenly resurrecting. Published reports of zombie autopsies found that consciousness and motor functioning had returned despite the fact that the circulatory system had never revived, leaving the bodies without blood or oxygen. Not fully dead but not fully alive either. A sort of undead. And sure enough, a direct link to the use of the drug and resurrection was discovered.

Your father rarely spoke of that time; not that you ever had bothered to ask about it. It was unsettling to think he was ever one of the people hunting down zombies.

"Does this mean I don't have to go to school tomorrow?" Junny grinned boyishly, looking up at your mother.

"Nice try, Junseo. You're going." Your mother dismissed without a blink of an eye. You chuckled at the way your little brother scowled at her words.

On the screen was a recording of what you assumed must have been the conference held in City Hall. There was a man dressed in the DEAD Team uniform speaking into a microphone from behind a podium. You focused on the screen ahead, tuning out the chattering of your family as you listened to his words.

❝ Citizens of this town can rest assured that the Walkers in question were apprehended and sent off to our termination facility. We can't stress enough how crucial it is that you continue to send in reports of possible zombie sightings. Even if it's a false alarm, the risk isn't worth taking. Remember to not engage with the undead as they will attack unprovoked. These creatures don't care who you are or what you do, to them you are nothing more than their next meal.❞

A frown found your face at the officer's words. There hadn't been a zombie attack in years. It was hard to believe that zombies were truly insatiable, will stop at nothing, blood-lusting monsters.

"I thought we got rid of them all." Junny sighed.

"Most of them." Your father explained dully. "There are a few still lingering around."

"I still don't understand why we have to wait for the DEAD Team to take them out. If I run into one on my way to the market, I want to be able to protect myself right then and there." Your mother huffed suddenly, turning away from the TV.

She had always been a formidable woman– strong and independent. You had a feeling that if she hadn’t been tied down by a newborn child, she would've been there fighting alongside your father during the Great Outbreak.

Your father let out a sigh, "We don't want whatever is inside them possibly infecting normal civilians. That's why they have to be put down in quarantine."

“Whatever. I’m just glad we're almost completely rid of those bastards.” Your mother sighed, ruffling the hair on top of your brother's head.

Your eyebrows furrowed, unable to hide your distaste for any longer.

"And we say they are the monsters..." You muttered quietly.

Immediately, all eyes were on you.

"Excuse me? What was that?" Your mother cautioned.

You held her stare unabashedly, clearly having no intention to take back your words. Junseo's eyes flickered among the two of you, knowing the nature of the conversation that was soon to come. As much as you complained about how stubborn your mother was, he knew that you had inherited the very trait you resented.

"How can sit there and wish death on all those innocent people?"

"Y/N, this again?" Your mother let out an exasperated noise.

Your eyes grew wide with defiance, "Yes, this again. It doesn’t matter if they were once dead, they are still people! We have massacred millions and I don't understand how you all don’t so much as bat an eye at the thought of it."

At your words, your mother let out a bitter laugh, head shaking in disbelief.

"And what about the people those crimson heads have killed? What about the chaos and lives sacrificed to protect us from them?" Your mother retorted.

You scoffed, eyes rolling in unwavering disobedience.

“Did we even try to help them? To understand them?”

"You didn't live through the outbreak like your father and I did. You were just a baby. There are things you don't know, Y/N." She pressed angrily, doing nothing to sway your stance.

"What if it was me?" You challenged coldly. "What if I had died and came back to life? Would your first instinct be to put a bullet through my head? Those people had families!"

"Cut the bullshit, Y/N. They're not people, they’re rotting corpses that can walk and it’s about damn time you realized that.”

It was at this point that your father had decided to step in, placing a hand on your shoulder as he stopped you from arguing further.

"That's enough. The both of you. Arguing is a waste of time. We should be grateful for one another. We're a family and we're all together. Not everyone who survived the outbreak can say the same." His tone was matter-of-fact but not cold in the way your mother's had been.

Looking up at him, his cautious eyes met your ardent ones. They were laced in a plea for you to stop... to understand.

Pressing your lips together, you nodded begrudgingly. Your dad was right. Arguing with your mother was a waste of time. It wasn't as if anything you said would get through to her anyway.

Pushing the blanket off your body, you swung your legs back over to the floor, hand reaching out for your bag that was sitting against the coffee table.

"Where are you going?" Your father asked, eyeing you as you got up and hauled the bag over your shoulder.

"Home. Joon is probably waiting up for me." You told him disinterestedly, causing your mother to sigh.

Namjoon was your best friend and roommate, and while he was definitely still up, you highly doubted it was for your sake. If you knew your best friend, he was sprawled on the couch, his work spread out across the coffee table as one of those old, black and white shows about people living on a prairie played in the background. Your mother didn't need to know that, of course.

"Y/N, don't be ridiculous. It's already dark out, just spend the night." She pleaded.

"Night, Junny." You ignored her, turning towards your brother with a smile.

"Night!"

As you pushed past your parents and made your way out of the room, you could hear as they began to whisper to each other. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. 

You always hated it when they did that. As if you weren’t adult enough to join in on conversations that were obviously about you. It was if this whole world was constantly shouting a million and one rules at you – don’t do that, don’t question this, don’t go here – but the second you asked for an explanation as to why you should listen, all the yelling fell to a whisper, as if to let you know that words were being said but that you were purposely excluded from that knowledge.

That thought weighed heavily on your mind as you reached the deadbolted front door. The sound of you prying it’s five locks open hid the approaching footsteps of your father walking up behind you.

"Y/N."

The pop of the final lock accompanied your silent sigh, turning to face your awaiting parent.

"Yeah?"

"Your mother and I want you to take the bus home tonight. We know you usually take that shortcut by the factory plant because it's quicker but that area isn't safe. Especially not now with the recent sighting."

"Sure." You lied, simply because you knew it was what he would want to hear.

"And tie your hair up before you go out. It gives you a–"

"–maximum visual field, yeah I know. Teachers have been drilling that into us since elementary school, dad." You countered easily.

Your father nodded back at you.

"And Y/N," he continued, "she's harsh but... your mother is right when she says there is a lot of things you don't know."

You bit down on the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to reply. Suddenly, your father's hand found your cheek, cupping your face affectionately as he silently thought something over.

"There's something I want to give you before you go. Wait right here."

Your eyebrows arched in surprise as he left you suddenly, returning shortly with a small, folded blanket in his hands.

"If anything – anyone – threatens you, you protect yourself. Okay?" He spoke solemnly, starting to unwrap the bundle of fabric.

"Yeah, of course." You nodded, mildly confused.

Your face fell as the dull silver of a revolver revealed itself as the object hidden in between the blanket. You always knew your father kept a decent amount of self-defense weapons in the house, a consequence of his involvement during the Great Outbreak, but this was the first time he had ever shown you one. The only other time you had come into contact with one was an accident, stumbling upon a gun mounted under your father's desk during a juvenile game of hide-and-seek. Perhaps in another life, you would have been disturbed by the discovery, but all children of the apocalypse such as yourself were taught about guns and weapon safety by the time they had learned to count so you weren't particularly fazed.

“Just in case.” Your father pulled you from your memories, his lips pressed tight.

You eyed the deadly weapon for a moment, your stomach churning at the idea of ever having to fire such a device. Hesitantly, you grabbed it, hand wobbling slightly at the newfound weight. Wordlessly, you unzipped your backpack and hid the gun away, tucking the three bullets that laid beside it into your front pocket.

You forced the sides of your mouth to tilt up disingenuously, offering him a somber word of gratitude before slipping out of the house with a faint goodbye.

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Kicking at a piece of rubber, you watched as it skipped ahead, tumbling down the cracked cement of the road you traveled on. Your hair swayed behind you as you walked; you had thrown it up, not solely because of your father’s warning but simply because it felt strange not to. Like putting sneakers on without socks. In this world, stepping outside meant being vigilant and on high alert.

Naturally, you had disregarded your parents’ wish for you to take the bus home. Something that had emerged along the chaos and fear that probably wasn't initially considered was the sudden need for safe transportation. Transport industries quickly used this to their advantage, the costs of public and private transportation skyrocketing tenfold as a result. While most deemed it a necessary evil, you refused to pay for a twenty-dollar bus ride that would only take you ten minutes on foot.

And it wasn’t as if the area you were passing through was particularly unsafe. It was an industrial zone, empty and abandoned for as long as you could remember. During the peak of the apocalypse, factories and warehouses like the ones you were currently passing got raided for supplies. It wasn’t nearly as awful as it was made out to be, productivity had ceased anyway. Workers were too busy preparing themselves and their families against the army of undead to worry about showing up to work on time.

Crash!

Your stride came to a halt, one of your bag straps falling off your shoulder as you quickly whirled around to face where the loud sound had come from.

Brows furrowed, you peered through the holes in the wire fence that separated you and the property. You managed to make out a silhouette by the corner of a busted down door.

“Hello?” You called out warily.

The shadow quickly darted from view.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to be there.”

Letting your gaze return back to the fence, you found a sizeable hole not too far off from where you stood. More telling than the hole, however, were the two torn up candy wrappers lying underneath it. All at once, you realized what exactly you were dealing with.

Runaway teens were an increasing problem in your city; many of them seemingly fed up with the strict rules and regulations that arose as a consequence of the Great Outbreak. As much as you sympathized with them, a dirty abandoned factory was no place for a child.

You slipped past the fence, mind made up to get whoever was inside out and back to safety. Trudging your way through the rubble and waste, you headed towards the building’s entrance, noting the trail of candy wrappers that lead to it.

Peering inside the building, you were met with a slow-moving cloud of dust that had yet to settle down– it appeared as if a part of the ceiling had collapsed which explained the loud noise you heard earlier.

“You can come out, okay? You’re not in any trouble, I promise.”

It was dark inside, the only light source coming from the street lamps that lined the road you once stood on, their cold luminescence pushing through the broken shards of the factory’s windows.

You pushed further into the ill-lit building. There were all sorts of machines and garbage inside; the tile floor was layered with dirt, clearly accumulated through the years of trespassers coming in and out.

Spotting another silver candy wrapper, you headed down a hallway, pushing past a heavy steel door.

You let yourself take a moment to take in the room ahead of you. It must have been the more corporate side of the company, you deducted, as rows of filing cabinets lined the room, papers and ransacked charts spread across the floor. There was an eeriness to the building, you quickly realized. It was somewhat unsettling feeling to see something that once must have been the pinnacle of structure and organization in such an utter state of chaos. The room was quiet enough that if you just focused hard enough, you could imagine what it once looked like, all clean and pristine as employees walked through and went about their day.

You pushed down your uneasiness, eyes straining to guide you through the windowless room.

A rustle of fabric caught your attention and you quickly rounded about a large shelf in order to reach the child.

“Are you hurt? I heard those ceiling tiles fall–”

You let your words fall flat.

A tall silhouette stood against the wall, nothing like the stature of a small adolescent like you had been anticipating. The hair on your body rose as the sound of ragged, strained breaths fell from the dark figure ahead of you.

It took a step forward, body swaying unnaturally.

Every hair on your body stood on end, jaw falling slack as reality dawned on you.

You could hear the voice of your elementary school teacher in your head suddenly, remembering the lecture she had given you and your rowdy class on what to do in case of a zombie attack. How little attention you had paid back then, giggling over something Namjoon had whispered in your ear. Yet as you stood there in front of the exact thing you had been taught to fear, you could recall every single word, playing over in your head like a mantra stuck on loop.

Don’t make any sudden noises.

It was as if every nerve ending in your body grew cold, your feet felt impossibly heavy as fear paralyzed you, watching with wide eyes as the dark figure crept closer and closer.

Look for the nearest exit.

A panicked exhale fell from you as it's dull eyes locked onto yours. The shadow covered creature let out a noise of its own: deep, guttural and utterly inhuman.

And run.

You nearly lost your footing as you launched yourself into a sprint, not even thinking to head back the way you came in, mind blinded with white-hot panic. The cracked walls of the building echoed your frenzied steps, like a cruel game of hide-and-seek where no matter where you hid, you would be found.

Shoving past a stack of empty cardboard boxes, you found yourself in an unfamiliar storage room. Scanning the room hurriedly, your eyes fell onto a door on the other side and you quickly made your way over to it.

"Dammit!" You seethed, yanking at the handle as you realized the door you had reached was locked.

Jaw clenched, you turned back around to exit the room when your father’s words unexpectedly crossed your mind.

"If anything – anyone – threatens you, you protect yourself. Okay?"

And so you reached over a shoulder for your bag, eyes flicking between it and the room ahead of you as you picked yourself back up into a jog.

Tugging the zipper aside, you cursed at the jumbled sight of your bag’s contents. You had placed the gun on top but it must have sunk to the bottom during your travels.

You stuck your hand in further, looking to feel the cool metal brush against your fingertips.

Then, everything went dark, a low ringing finding your ears as you stumbled back, completely thrown off balance. You let out a yelp of pain and clutched your head, vision blurry and doubled.

You hissed, disoriented and confused as you had run headfirst into a large filing cabinet, too occupied with finding the gun to pay attention to where you were running. You struggled to keep yourself on solid ground, too ailed to notice the way that very cabinet had lost its footing and now teetered dangerously, seconds from crashing down onto you.

Suddenly, something seized both your arms, yanking you back as the heavy hunk of metal came crashing onto the ground.

You winced at the sound, before realizing that you had been grabbed by someone. One panicked glance over your shoulder confirmed your fears and a scream ripped through you, thrashing in the zombie's grip. To your surprise, you were released immediately, falling to your knees momentarily as you scrambled forward and away from your captor. Your escape was halted by a wall, however, forced to stop and press your back to it, eyes wide as you kept them locked on the zombie boy across from you.

His skin was a pale-ish blue, unlike any color you had seen before, his hair coarse and unkempt, nearly shielding his eyes from view. But still, you saw them: peering through his dark strands and guarded by the bruises that stained the skin around them as if he hadn't slept in ages. Shallow breaths fell through his pale lips, tinted purple from the lack of blood running through him.

“You just... You just saved me.” You marveled.

The zombie stood in front of you wordlessly, shoulders slumped forwards as his head tilted.

You knew there was a high chance he had no clue what you were saying, but frankly, you were too stunned to care. Here you were, somewhere in an abandoned factory in the middle of the night accompanied by the very thing you were raised to fear... and he had pulled you away from a falling metal cabinet.

You held his eyes. They were glossy and unmoving– lifeless almost. You shook your head; your heart had settled back into its chest, your breathing finally evening out. What coursed through you was no longer dread but an insatiable need to understand.

What did he want?

Why would he save you?

How did he get here?

The zombie let out a grunt suddenly as if it was meant as a goodbye before he turned around, beginning to leave.

“Wait!” You called out after him, putting your existential crisis on pause.

To your surprise, he turned back around immediately, facing you with unmistakable attentiveness. Did he... understand you?

“You… Today on the news... That was your family, wasn’t it?" You guessed, purely on a whim.

The zombie said nothing but you thought you saw a wave of something akin to melancholy wash over his face. No words were exchanged but your gut told you that you were right nonetheless.

“They'll be looking for you. You’ll be caught if you stay here.” You continued, swallowing down your nerves. You still weren't sure if the zombie boy could even understand you after all.

Placing a hand against the paint chipped wall, you helped yourself back up, inhaling sharply as your head throbbed. You took a cautious step toward him, hands trembling but stance steadfast.

Extending your palm forward, you offered your hand towards him, newfound determination coursing through you as the zombie boy's eyes followed the gesture curiously.

“You saved my life." You acknowledged with a nod. "Now let me save yours.”

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Shh! Quietly, come in." You whispered, gesturing for the hoodied zombie to follow you into your apartment.

This zombie, as you had come to find out, was particularly agreeable. While he didn't seem to actually understand your language per se, he did seem to respond particularly well to gestures and body language, which was how you had somehow managed to wrangle him into your apartment, his dirty red hoodie thrown over his head to cover his face in case you ran into another human.

The undead man's eyes grew wide, taking in the inside space of your apartment with wonder. You could only imagine it must have been an upgrade from the gloomy factory he had been hiding out in. Reaching the kitchen, you froze at the sound of the TV on and playing from your living room.

Shit. Namjoon.

"Y/N, is that you?" Your roommate called out from the couch, hearing the shuffle of your steps.

You cursed internally. On your way home, you hadn't given much thought to exactly how you were going to hide your new zombie friend from your living one. You weren't thinking much at all honestly, too concerned with getting home unseen to worry about anything else.

Turning towards the zombie boy, you extended your hand in front of you in a gesture that ordered him to stay put. He stared at it, eyebrows moving towards one another.

"Stay." You directed quietly, before turning the other way.

"Yeah." You called out, placing your bag on your kitchen counter before heading towards the living room.

"Thought you were spending the night at your family's place?" Namjoon pondered, turning over to look at you as you entered the space.

"Changed my mind." You shrugged, trying your hardest to appear nonchalant, despite the way your heart clamored against your chest. "Didn't think you'd be up this late."

Your bespeckled best friend let out a sigh, dropping whatever file he was studying back onto the coffee table.

"Yeah, I guess I lost track of the time." He mused, glancing at his wristwatch. You nodded nervously, opening your mouth to suggest that perhaps he should head to bed now when Namjoon cut you off suddenly.

“Holy fuck!” He shot up from his seat, eyes set behind you as a terrified expression fell over him. You whipped around, heart falling into your ass.

Oh shit.

"No! Bad zombie! I told you to stay!" You scolded him. He was now standing behind you, having had abandoned his post in the kitchen. He looked as unbothered as ever, his hands tucked into his hoodie as he casually looked the two humans over.

"What the fuck?!" Namjoon cried.

“I can explain.” You turned towards the panicking boy calmly.

Immediately, Namjoon jumped into action, scrambling to crouch behind the couch as if to put a physical barrier between him and the zombie.

"You– Y/N, tell me that's just a guy wearing zombie makeup. Tell me that is not a zombie standing in our living room. Say sike right fucking now!”  Namjoon squawked, his voice pitched high.

You grimaced, looking over at the indifferent zombie before looking back at your roommate.

“Just hear me out for one second–”

“Are you insane?!" Namjoon shrieked, standing up in anger before realizing he had exposed himself and quickly ducking back down. "I’m not gonna listen to you! You brought a zombie into our house– oh god. He bit you, didn't he? You're probably turning as we speak!”

You rolled your eyes, realizing that Namjoon wasn't calming down anytime soon.

“My best friend is a zombie... this is like some horrible Disney Channel movie coming to life!” He rambled on nervously, running a hand through his hair in despair.

“For fuck’s sake Namjoon, I’m not a zombie! Besides, you know getting bit doesn't turn people– that was disproved ages ago.” You scoffed, glancing over at the zombie man who still seemed uninterested despite the scene your best friend was making.

“Well excuse me if I don’t have the logistics of zombie contagion down! It doesn't change the fact that you brought a flesh-eating monster into our home, you psychopath!”

You frowned at your best friend’s tone.

“If he was a flesh-eating monster, then wouldn’t we be dead by now?” You stated matter-of-factly, hand on your hip.

“Exactly— wait.” Namjoon blinked, poking his head out from behind the couch. He frowned, glancing over at the zombie. “Hold on a minute. Why is he just standing there?"

Hesitantly, your best friend stood up from the couch altogether, "I thought zombies jumped at the chance of eating people?”

“Yes, well, for whatever reason, this one doesn’t.” You told him with a shrug. You had thought the same thing when you first came across your new undead friend.

You watched as the familiar flame of curiosity spark behind Namjoon’s eyes. Slowly, he inched his way over to the two of you, hands in front of him as if to shield himself until he was just inches away from the resurrected man.

For a few moments, it was silent, your best friend and the zombie running their eyes over one another as they each decided what to make of each other.

To your surprise, Namjoon's hand reached over and positioned itself onto the zombie's neck, pointer and middle finger pulled together as he checked for a pulse.

“Fascinating…” Namjoon murmured inquisitively as he concluded that the stranger was indeed dead.

Your shoulders, which had been locked up tensely as the two men interacted, dropped immediately, realizing that Namjoon's initial panic had subsided and been replaced with interest. It was in his nature to be fascinated with the things that scared and repulsed most, of course. He was studying to become a biomedical scientist after all.

Despite his cowardliness, Namjoon was actually quite fearless when it came to his work; he was extremely intelligent and had a natural knack for research and investigative methods. You could only hope that the prospect of having a real-life zombie to study from would outweigh any moral duty he felt to report you to the police.

“You know how illegal this is right?” He said sternly, much calmer than he initially was.

"He saved my life, Joon." You explained. "I don't know why but... I couldn't just leave him behind. Especially not with the DEAD Team on high alert with the recent sightings. They'd kill him if they found him."

Namjoon turned away from the zombie, sighing as he met your eyes.

"Well... maybe they should."

You frowned, "Joon–"

"I mean think about what it stands for in the first place: Designated Eradication And Decimation. An entire team was put together solely to get rid of these guys. Surely, there’s a reason why. The government wouldn't put a group together like that if zombies didn't pose a threat to humankind, right?”

Your brows furrowed, finding a fair point in Namjoon's words. Yet, as you turned to look at the zombie and found him placidly watching the television, you couldn’t find it within yourself to agree.

Suddenly, you were in front of your best friend, taking his hands into yours as you put on a sorrowful expression.

"Please don't turn him in!" You begged, your bottom lip jutting out. "I know what I'm asking is a lot but I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important. There’s no one else in this world I could trust to help me with this.”

Namjoon's eyes went wide, yanking his hands from between yours. He twisted his head away from your pleading eyes, cheeks tinted pink.

"Ah, jeez, Y/N. Turning him would mean turning you in for housing him in the first place. Just because you don't give a shit about your wellbeing, doesn't mean I don't. God, you really are an idiot."

You let out a grateful squeal, wrapping your arms around your best friend, "Thank you, thank you! I knew I could always count on you."

The scientist froze in your embrace before letting out a sigh, patting your back begrudgingly as he muttered words of dismissal, neither you nor him noticing the way the zombie was now watching you two in interest, a curious expression on his face.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"It's okay... It's just water. It won't hurt you." You promised, hand gesturing towards you as you urged the zombie man to come closer.

You were standing in the shower, clothes dampening as the running water hit your body. Namjoon was stood with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the bathroom's door frame. He had insisted on standing guard in case the walker suddenly decided that he was, in fact, hungry and went ahead and tried to have you for dinner.

The zombie watched dubiously as you beckoned him forward but if he had objections he didn't bother to voice them as he stepped into the shower after you.

"Good. Look, that feels nice, doesn't it?" You reasoned, leading his hand under the stream of water. The unnamed zombie watched as his hand grew blurry, the running water bouncing against it. The dirt that clung to his skin slowly dissipated, falling onto the ceramic tub and running down the drain.

Placing a hand against the shower wall, you maneuvered yourself around him so that he could stand under the showerhead. The zombie hardly noticed the swap in positions, however, too enthralled with the feeling of water against his hand.

"Here, now why don't you try standing under it–" You had placed your hands against his back, nudging him closer to the stream when he let out a noise of panic, whirling around to rush over to the opposite side of the shower, pressing you back into the shower wall in the process.

"Y/N!" Namjoon called out, moving forward.

"I'm okay!" You reassured immediately, pausing your best friend's motions. The dead man had both hands held against the wall, trapping you on either side.

Bringing your hands up, you placed them onto his chest, trying your hardest to ignore how empty it felt. Pushing him back, you let out a breath. Truth be told, his quick actions had startled you. As much as you wanted to believe that he was different, the truth was that you didn't know for certain if he wasn't everything the media told you he was. 

He was looking down at you, uncertainly laced across his face.

It was the first time you had gotten a chance to truly look at him this close. From here, it was easy to see how he was once human. He had pretty features– unquestionably, he would have been an attractive man when he was alive.

Something you hadn’t noticed before were the faint, blue veins that crawled up his neck and cheeks; markers of the Immortous drug that once ran through his bloodstream. Taking note of the dried patch of blood on his cheek, you pulled your wet sleeve over your hand before reaching up to gently rub against his stained skin.

"I promise I'm not going to hurt you. I’m just trying to clean you up, okay?" You assured him with an encouraging nod.

To your surprise, the hand that had been stroking his cheek was suddenly stilled, his large palm loosely covering yours. He kept it there, not as to tell you to stop but as if to show his gratitude– or at least that was what you told yourself. It was a simple gesture, but it gave you pause before a soft smile fell over you.

Leading him back, the two of you eventually found the water that rained down from the large shower head. You watched as the zombie flinched, face scrunching up as the water began to fall down the back of his head.

"Come help me get his clothes off." You called to Namjoon, and so the undressing began.

The zombie stood silently as he was left in nothing but his jeans, not understanding what was being said around him, but knowing that he was not in danger here. The taller of his two new companions, the man, rubbed a strange substance into his uncombed hair as you rubbed as his arms, a frothy, pleasant smelling matter coating his skin.

Water dripped from his bangs and ran down his face, some of it seeping into his eyes. It stung them slightly, and the zombie wondered if whatever the tall man had put into his hair was to blame. He thought to close his eyes to put a stop to the irritation but for whatever reason, he opted to keep them open for a bit longer just so he could watch you. Your hair was weighed down with the water that was bouncing off of him and onto you, face set seriously as you focused on whatever it was you were doing.

Your hands were warm, much like the water raining down his back, but still different somehow. They were more firm, and somehow more soothing. You were washing at his chest when you finally took notice of your spectator, feeling the zombie's eyes on you. Peering up at him, you laughed nervously, flashing him a small grin.

No, he decided. 

He didn’t want to close his eyes.

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 8 - Parisian Nightmares

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Summary: With Neil MIA you have some time to think about everything that happened. But you are not allowed peace at all..

Warnings: Swearing.

Author’s Notes: The longest chapter yet, so sorry for that. It’s a little bit of a filler slower one so hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!

Supposedly the idea of having lunch with TP would have scared you more if it was not for the way he guided you through the experience. He ordered food from the dining hall and made sure you had your coffee before starting any serious topics. Your tired and confused self really appreciated the efforts.

“So what do you want to talk about?” you asked after finally feeling more like a functioning human being.

“I thought we could discuss the things to come…” he briefly searched for the right words “Parts of it is what Neil already knows, but some details are not meant for him” he looked at you with a serious gaze “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course” you nodded, feeling both intrigued and nervous.

Ever since the topic of The Algorithm has been first breached, you hoped to learn more. Probably Neil’s presence would have helped at the moment, but if that was not possible then you just had to face the truth calmly. If not now, then when?

“Can I ask something first?”

“Go ahead”

“My recruitment… it wasn’t just because I was recommended by my professor, was it?” you felt like you already knew the answer but had to ask anyway.

“No” TP smiled “I knew from a good source that we had to recruit you”

You stared at him, desperately trying to comprehend what he meant. Suddenly you understood Neil and his despise of half-truths.

“Can I ask who’s that source?”

TP just smiled apologetically, and you groaned.

“Right. Did Neil know?”

“No, I only told him that you have to be enlisted” at your questioning stare, he added “It’s safer that way” he shrugged as though it explained everything.

It did not, but you began to understand that it was not meant to make sense. A sentence said during one of your early lectures rung out in your head: Don’t try to understand it. Feel it. Maybe that was the whole point.

“So that’s how you know that I’ll be needed during the plan? From the source?”

“Kind of” he grinned again “It’s a very reliable source, I must add” he looked at you pointedly and laughed at your confused face “I swear this will get clearer with time”

The reassuring smile made you feel somewhat better. Taking a sip of the coffee, you considered what was being said.

“When does it all begin?”

“With action in Kiev Opera in a month, more or less. But in reality, it already began years ago”

You frowned, feeling your head go blank. TP was smiling, clearly enjoying your utter confusion.

“It’s okay, you’ll catch up eventually”

“Thanks, that’s encouraging” you lightly smacked him in the shoulder.

“I’ll give you more information leading up to Kiev and then after” he explained after a short silence “But you can’t know the whole progression of events. I’m the only one who is cursed with that”

The sudden change in the tone made you stare at him curiously. But his face was like a mask.

“For now though, you don’t need to worry about it” he smiled again “I’m sending you out on a quiet mission to Paris with one of our agents”

That was surprising. But you could do with a distraction.

“Okay… what’s the deal?” you leaned onto the table and flashed him a brilliant smile.

“You have to research one shady guy in Paris. It’s just observation so no need for engagement. The only trick is that you have to pose as a newlywed couple” he looked at you expectantly.

Oh…

“How long will this take?” you tried to focus on the details, not to think too much about the implications of the cover.

“Three weeks” he smiled at your glare “What? It’s gonna be nice! Three weeks in Paris and all you have to do is observe our target, Pierre or whatshisname, and cosy up with Jasper” the overly enthusiastic tone made you laugh.

“You made it sound almost fun” you admitted after calming down a little.

“Well, it’s always a break from spending time with Neil” TP looked at you with an amused expression “I’m sure you could use some of that” he winked.

You shot daggers in his direction, all the while feeling your face grow warm. Admittingly, time without Neil could be useful. You just were not sure it would do much at this point. You were beyond saving.

“When do I begin?”

“You’ll have a mission briefing tomorrow, and that’s also when you’ll meet Jasper” you nodded “And now I think you should rest a little” he eyed you carefully.

“You’re probably right” you both got up “Thanks for the lunch and the chat… It helped” you smiled lightly.

“My pleasure” he ignored your outstretched hand and gave you a quick hug.

After a small hesitation, you returned the gesture. It felt familiar, and you had no clue why. 

“If you ever need anything, you know where to find me” TP smiled at you warmly.

“I’ll remember that” you grinned back and moved to open the door.

“Oh and don’t worry about Neil” you stopped in your tracks and turned to stare at him “I know that he can be extremely annoying, but he really cares about you”

You were speechless and could only nod in response. The Protagonist laughed at your expression before shooing you out of the room with a gesture. You gladly did just that.

*** One thing was for certain, life without Neil could be boring. You found out that much from the moment you came back to your room. After making sure the main casualty of the mission – your dress – was in the washing, you spent most of that afternoon staring at the ceiling. You were mostly thinking about how much your life has changed in the last weeks. And trying to avoid thinking about him because that could never end well. But of course, the universe had other plans.

Just as you were dealing with the fact that the dress was utterly ruined, your phone buzzed. It was late, and the number was used solely for personal reasons, so the sound made you frown. You looked at the screen to find a text message from an unknown number:

“How’s the dress?”

There was no signature, but you knew.

“How did you get my number?” you replied and quickly saved his contact details.

It didn’t take him longer than a minute to respond.

“Used the charm you’re so quick to ignore”

Ah, Anna’s help then.

“Why?”

“Couldn’t imagine not bothering you for too long”

You covered your face with your hands for a few seconds before typing back.

“The dress is ruined, so thanks for nothing”

The speed with which he responded took you aback. Surely he’d have better things to do...? It did not seem so.

“It’s hardly my fault, is it? That wasn’t my idea” you could almost imagine the self-satisfied grin.

“Point taken” you hit the sent button and then took a deep breath.

It’s not too early for double texting, is it?

“Where are you?” you typed another message before throwing the phone on the other side of the bed.

When it buzzed again, you regretted the decision. Pretending that you would be able to resist reading the message immediately was pointless. You reached for the phone and read his answer:

“On the way to Boston airport”

Great. At least now you knew that he is not around, and you can have time to think. But with those texts, it might be harder to do. Before you could overthink the response, another one came through.

“Be honest, how bored are you without me?” you wondered how someone could be so annoying via text message.

“I’ve been assigned a little mission in Paris, actually. With Jasper. So not that bored, thank you very much”

This time it took him longer to respond. Approximately 6 minutes. Not that you were counting.

“You’ll be bored soon enough if you’ll be stuck somewhere with Jasper. What’s the cover?”

You did not like the assumption, but who were you to argue.

“Newlyweds enjoying honeymoon” you typed back and closed your eyes.

Somehow his response to that information mattered a lot.

“I guarantee you’ll wish it was me soon enough” Fucking hell.

“That’s a bit narcissistic, don’t you think?”

“Maybe a little. But once you meet him, you’ll know I’m right”

“Well then I won’t hesitate to report back after the meeting” you replied and made sure to prepare yourself for the mission brief.

After you were done with planning the outfit and packing your folder, you glanced at the phone.

“Please do. I need to know what dear Jasper is up to these days”

“If you’re so curious about him, maybe ask Anna for his number ;) Sure she’d never deny you anything”

You weren’t sure where that came from, but sure enough, you were not going to take it back.

“Wow… Is that jealousy I’m sensing?”

“You wish” you glanced at the clock and realised how late it was.

“Goodnight, Neil” you sent him another text and went to the bathroom.

When you were back there was a message waiting for you.

“Sweet dreams, darling”

You groaned. In the end, it seemed like you will not be able to get a break from Neil. What a shame.

*** From the moment you stepped into the conference hall in the morning, you knew that Neil was right. Jasper was not one of the most entertaining people you have ever met. When you were introduced to each other he barely glanced up from the folder to look at you and half-heartedly shook your outstretched hand. You took a long look at him and his short brown hair and hazel eyes. He did look decent, to be fair. But he was not Neil. And you hated that your brain made that comparison straightaway.

“So what’s the task, boss?” the first time you heard his voice was when he addressed the Protagonist.

“You have to observe the target, Pierre Armand, who’s an inverted weapons dealer. You’re supposed to watch his every move and send daily updates but don’t engage. That will be the job for another team” TP looked at you both intently “Your cover is a newlywed couple going by the surname Morgan and who have just moved into their lovely suite next door to Armand” you’d swear he winked at you.

You glared back while your newly assigned partner studied the folder attentively. You wondered if he ever did anything else.

“When do we leave?” you decided to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Your plane is tomorrow afternoon” you nodded “Any other questions?” when neither of you spoke, he added “So I’ll leave you two to get acquittanced”

You stared at TP panicked, but he only flashed you one cheeky smile and left the room. That did explain why he and Neil got along so well. Grudgingly you turned towards Jasper, who was still pre-occupied with the damn folder. You cleared your throat, and he glanced up.

“So… have you been working here for a while?” you were shit at small talk.

“For three years now” he eyed you up sceptically “You’re the new recruit from London, aren’t you?” you could almost hear the condescension.

“Yes” it was not looking promising “Neil recruited me, and we’ve just been on a mission together in New York” you added.

It was a mistake. At the mention of Neil, Jasper’s eyes flared up, and he looked at you sharply.

“I heard that mission was a major fuck up” the vicious smirk took you aback “And poor Neil got shot”

You could only stare in confusion at the man in front of you. Boring and clearly having issues with Neil. Just bloody perfect.

“Anyway, I got to prepare” he got up “But mind you, Paris won’t be at all like an operation with that idiot” he glared at you.

“And what’s an operation with him like?” you were genuinely curious at this point.

“Overly dramatic” he made a grand gesture with his hands before slamming the doors in the wake of his exit.

He did have a point there. You sighed, grabbed your documents, and exited the hall. On the way to your room, you decided to give in to the temptation and typed a message to Neil.

“With grief, I have to admit you were right about Jasper”

You were not expecting a response instantly, so the buzz when you were pouring coffee into the cup made you jump up. Neil could make your life harder, even remotely.

“Told you. How is he doing?” you read the reply and grinned at the casual tone.

“He’s grumpy and hates you for some reason. Can’t wait to be stuck with him for three weeks” you sighed and accepted the grim fate.

“Sounds like him then. You never know, you might bond over your shared hatred for me”

You nearly choked on your coffee then. A fellow agent passing by on the corridor stared at you. This could only get worse.

“Think my hatred towards you has nothing compared to his. Any ideas why he’s like that?”

“Nothing concrete, but I’ve got a few vague theories. I’ll tell you when I’m back”

“Hope so. What time is it there?” closing the door to your room, you could finally behave like an idiot.

“Past 11 pm. Excited for your outing with Jasper?”

Asia then… You tried to think about any possible places he could be but came up with too many options.

“Not at all. Fully expecting my days will be spent wandering around Paris alone or watching French HGTV”

You decided to look through the folder to distract yourself from the increasing stress. This time you were supposed to be Amelia Morgan, wife to Nicholas Morgan. Amelia’s occupation was being an accountant, which sounded extremely boring, but at least you would get to experience the city. Your study was then interrupted by another text.

“You can always message me if you’re bored”

Tempting.

“Careful because I might”

“You better” To that, you did not know what to say,. so you just got lost in the preparations for the mission. This one was not looking good but there was no other choice. So you just focused on learning about your target. At least this time, there was no one to distract you.

Until another text came, a solid hour later.

“One clue about Jasper: Anna”

Oh not her again.

“Don’t tell me he’s hopelessly in love with her”

“Perhaps… And well, she has eyes for someone else so” and then “Not to be smug naturally”

You grinned at the screen.

“You do sound smug”

You had to admit that if Neil’s theory was true, it was rather heart-breaking for both Anna and Jasper. Not that you felt sorry for either of them.

“He might decide to take revenge upon me by breaking your heart”

You stared at the text and the many implications he could have meant it by it. And it was too much to figure out right now. Instead, you just typed back:

“Good luck to him” and then, with heart thumping wildly “Would you care if he did?”

You tried to ignore the phone when the answer came. But after an agonising minute spent reading the same two words over and over, you gave in.

“Maybe” 

Right… You just had to add that question to the long list for when he’s back. You closed the folder with a flourish. All mental coherence was gone.

*** It turned out that Neil was not right about everything. If Jasper ever intended to claim and then break your heart, he was utterly shit at it. Since the day you moved into your cosy Parisian flat, he barely spoke a word to you. Most of the time, he was buried nose deep in the mission briefs or books related to strategies and secrets of arms dealing. If you had tasks to complete, he would often sideline you before doing the job himself while ignoring any help you offered. To put it straightforwardly, he pissed you off.

And yet, his eagerness to be entirely self-dependent meant that you had time to discover Paris and relax while still completing the mission in any way you could. You also had more than enough time to text Neil, who always responded to your messages promptly. You sometimes wondered if he ever slept or did anything but talk to you. Not that you did mind, of course.

Your patience towards Jasper, his silence and superiority complex snapped for the first time after a week and a half. You have both been sitting in the living room of your condo, just after finishing quiet dinner. You were bored, extremely so. You have reached for the television remote with the intent to put on some background noise to ease the tension. But the moment you have switched the tv on, Jasper spoke:

“Don’t turn this shit on, it’s distracting” he has not even lifted his head from the folder he was studying.

You glared at him sharply and decided that you have had enough.

“Distracting from what? It’s not like you’ve not read this at least five times today already”

That made him look up. And he was not happy.

“I’m working. You should try that sometimes” he eyed you pointedly.

“I would if you ever gave me a chance to do anything” you shrugged, already not liking the conversation.

“I gave you a few opportunities, but you were just lazy” he placed his documents aside and went back to glaring at you “All you do is knock around Paris and stay on your phone for hours” a vicious smile appeared on his face “You’re texting Neil, aren’t you?”

You were taken aback by the whole situation and unable to deny the truth. “Even if I am, that’s none of your business” you were desperately hoping he would shut up.

But it was too late, and Jasper has clearly been triggered.

“That’s quite pathetic. You should know he never actually cares about all those girls he flirts with” he seemed to judge you “And I don’t see why you could be different” the smug smile was cruel.

Now you knew why it was better when he stayed quiet. You scrambled for any words of defence, but he managed to hit the mark. Swallowing hard, you schooled your face and replied in the most neutral tone you could muster at the moment.

“I think you’re just pissed Anna prefers Neil over you”

That worked. You watched with satisfaction as his eyes widened, and you silently thanked Neil for the information.

“Anna has nothing to do with this” it was his turn to stumble over the words “You’re just unwilling to face the truth” this time his harsh words lacked the sureness.

You were winning.

“So are you” you shrugged “I’ve had enough of this. You can go back to your precious mission briefs” you got up and left the room without a further glance.

You had to admit that his words did upset you. Even when you almost certainly knew he was wrong your brain had its own doubts. Because what if he was right? That would hurt, more than you could acknowledge.

But before you could begin the overthinking, the phone you threw onto the bed buzzed. He always knew when to message.

“How’s married life with Jasper going?”

And naturally, he always asked the right questions too. You did hate him for that.

“Now I know why it’s better he reads his documents instead of talking” you replied and debated what to do next.

“What did he do?” Neil quickly texted back even though you were pretty sure it was early morning hours for him.

You did not want to get into a serious conversation over the texts.

“He got a bit riled up and said some bullshit that wasn’t fun to listen to” that seemed like an easy way out for now.

“Do you want me to send a team to eliminate him? It would look like an accident”

You laughed at the tempting proposition.

“I’ll think about it”

“Are you alright?” you stared at the new message.

You were not exactly alright.

“I will be”

Why did lying feel so bad?

You switched off the lights in the room and lied on the bed. Just a week and a half to go. You’ve got this… right?

*** The last week in Paris passed in relative peace. Mostly because you and Jasper stopped speaking to each other entirely. Occasionally you would notice his cruel smirk appear when he caught you texting, and you did your best to ignore it. However, it did hurt, and you had to admit that one argument has managed to uproot all the confidence you have had.

Peace ended abruptly on the penultimate day when it became clear that you were being followed. Jasper caught on to the fact after he noticed someone shadow you on your walk through the city. You hid in one of the cafes as soon as he has signalled the fact to you. You knew he was right the moment a random man peered into the darkened premises and then went on to loiter nearby.

“Right, what do we do?” you looked around, trying to stay calm.

It seemed like no one else was onto you. Jasper already looked pissed off, and you wondered if it meant that more pleasant things would be said.

“I suspect they’ve got doubts about the authenticity of our story” he was intensely scanning the horizon, looking for any threats “He’s still there, waiting for us to blow the cover or prove him wrong” he turned to you with the most unhappy face you have ever seen.

“What is it?”

You were not sure you wanted to know the answer.

“We made it this far. I’m not letting them fuck it up” he leaned towards you and closed the gap.

You were frozen in horror before your brain caught up with the fact that Jasper was kissing you. Then you closed your eyes and tried to reciprocate with the minimum effort needed for it to look believable. It was pretty horrible, to put it simply. He was kissing you sloppily with a tempo that you could not match. You felt his hand clumsily entangle in your hair only to make you flinch when he ripped out a few hairs. After a solid 30 seconds long snog, you decided that had enough. You leaned back, ignoring the overwhelming urge to wipe your lips with the napkin. He stared at you briefly with that same disgusted face before discretely looking for your trail. The man was gone. You could only hope it worked as you exited the café, holding hands.

On the way back to the apartment, you refused to look at him, somehow hoping that would get rid of the awful way you felt. Naturally, being a spy did involve doing things like that but for some reason, it was not easy. You hated the fact that your brain kept on rewinding memories from New York and, in the process, making you feel worse. Once you made it back, you locked yourself in the room, leaving Jasper to fill in the report. You were tempted to message Neil just for the sake of knowing his thoughts on what happened.

“Today was my lucky day, and I got to experience PDA with Jasper. Send help”

That would do nicely, right?

“Must say I didn’t expect that”

As you were desperately looking for something to text back, your phone did something you did not expect it to do. It rang. You stared in shock as Neil’s number flashed as the caller ID. With a shaking hand, you picked up the phone and pressed the green button.

“Neil?” your voice sounded incredibly awkward.

Great start.

“What happened?” hearing his voice after those three weeks felt surreal.

Was it your imagination, or did he sound slightly tense?

“Um… we were being followed outside, so we entered a café. The tail was observing us and…” you took a deep breath, suddenly extremely nervous “And Jasper decided to kiss me to authenticate the cover”

Neil was silent, and that did not help with the irrational anxiety, so you rambled on, losing control of what you were saying.

“Well, it was more of a snog judging by how it lasted for thirty seconds, but I think they bought…”

“Okay, stop” he interrupted you abruptly “I’m not sure I want to know the details”

“Why not?” somehow out of the mixture of anxiety and insecurity, annoyance emerged “Are you jealous?”

You regretted the question as soon as it left your mouth. And did not want to know the answer. Luckily he did not respond. Instead, he did what Neil does best:

“Who’s a better kisser?”

You could not believe the nerve of this man.

“You can’t be for real” you muttered and heard him chuckle on the other side.

“It’s a legitimate question” you could picture the shrug and a cheeky smile.

It seemed like the initial awkwardness was gone. At least for him.

“I…” you huffed, unable to express the mess of emotions you felt.

“Oh, I know it’s you, but I’m asking about me and dear Jasper”

If he were in front of you, you would have punched him. But instead could only let out a frustrated groan and attempt to answer the question. There was only one way to do it.

“You” you mumbled, making sure your voice was barely coherent.

But of course, he heard you.

“I’m flattered” he had the smug tone nailed to the t.

“Fantastic” you sighed “Why did you call me?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice”

“Right”

“And to get you to answer the question”

“Of course” you sighed again “Now I should finish before Jasper barges in” That was partially an excuse, partially a real concern as you glanced nervously at the thin doors separating the rooms.

“Sure, don’t want you upsetting your husband. However, I’d love to see his face when he hears that I kiss better than him” Neil mused, and you gave yourself the liberty to just listen to his voice.

“Well, I’m not telling him that so feel free to do so when you meet up”

Your ears perked up at the sound of footsteps in the hall. Surely Jasper would not eavesdrop on you…?

“I’ve got to go, bye Neil” you hoped your tone sounded at least half as urgent as you felt.

“Goodbye, love. Don’t let that idiot get to you”

“I’ll try”

You hung up just as the doors to the bedroom opened. Sure enough, Jasper was stood there, with a scowl on his face.

“What were you doing?”

“Just being pathetic, I guess” you shrugged and walked past him without a glance.

[mattzerella-sticks]

“is scamming gay rights?” - Dean & Jack, DeanCas, Bi!Dean (ao3)

Jack tries teaching Dean about his latest obsession, TikTok, except a breakdown in communication teaches Dean that, sometimes, acronyms can mean more than one thing.

           Dean didn’t understand exactly what Jack rambled on about, but he passed the point of no return a few minutes back and couldn’t interrupt without revealing he had no clue what the younger boy prattled on and on about. As it was Jack currently kept pushing his phone in Dean’s face, gesturing at it and shaking it every ten seconds or so. Dean glanced between Jack and it; each time he did there was a new video on screen and by the time he shifted his focus back to his son the lecture had moved elsewhere along a road he had trouble following. By then, he let himself sink into the comfortable numbing cadence of Jack’s speech, sipping at his beer, surfacing only when he recognized a word before diving back under.

           His ears perked in familiarity as Jack used an acronym Dean recently learned, and so he tuned back in. Jack drew the phone closer to his side of the kitchen table, tapping on it. “There was this big problem with mlms actually, and even though I filtered my home page to avoid profiles like that, they kept popping up,” he said, “Luckily TikTok went ahead and basically blacklisted and deleted all mlm content. Now, I rarely see any of those kinds of content.”

           Dean’s features shuddered, mouth dropping slightly in fright. His ears echoed with the awful drumming of his heart, and a painful wheeze tickled his throat, demanding freedom. He released it on a sigh, slightly curling in on himself. “W-what?” he asked, “You… you didn’t like it?”

           Jack shrugged, “I mean, it was kind of annoying, but I learned to ignore them. When I learned how harmful the content was, however, I was very glad to hear that TikTok went ahead and took some sort of action – Hey!”

           On autopilot, Dean snatched the phone out of Jack’s hands. He slammed it, hard, on the table between them. Dean pointed a harsh finger towards Jack, snarling his next few words. “I don’t want to ever hear you talk like that again.”

           “What?”

           “Or!” he added, fist hammering Jack’s phone further into the wood, “use this, this damned app – if this is what it turns you into!” He huffed, hands retreating to steeple at his chin. “You think you’re raising a kid right… raising a kid to be accepting despite being so close to the Bible Belt… and one dumb app undoes all that hard work.”

           Jack, frozen in his seat, stared at Dean with concern shining in his comically wide eyes. “What are you talking about, Dean?”

           “Look,” Dean said instead, his finger extending once more to point at the younger boy. It was a less accusatory gesture, softened by the gentle tone Dean adopted. “I know I haven’t been the best role model with… with that kind of stuff. Hell of a lot better than my dad was, though… still not the best. But I’ve been getting better, especially after I…” His words bottlenecked on his tongue, and through great effort did Dean spit them out. “After I admitted my own attraction to… to men, especially one man in particular…” Dean’s head felt like it might erupt, magma-like blood swelling his brain to dangerous sizes. “Cas.”

           “Yes, Dean,” Jack nodded, “I know that. I’m… I’m confused what any of that has to do with this?”

           “What it has to do with…? Jack…” Dean pinched his brow, tense shoulders collapsing as the strain became too much, muscles snapping like bridge cables. “I might not be the most… the most out, or the most proud, okay? But I’m trying. Remember that bi flag pin I wore during that hunt one time? That was me… trying. And I’ll keep trying, because this isn’t something I’m ashamed of.” He reached for Jack, ensnaring his wrist to make sure his message was well received. “So you see, being gay isn’t – it’s not annoying. It shouldn’t be hidden, or… banned and it certainly isn’t harmful despite what some repressed shitheads might think.” Emboldened, Dean levelled a disappointing glare at Jack. His lower lip jutted out in fatherly disapproval. “And I’d rather be staked on some piece of rusty rebar than let a stupid app make you homophobic. No more… Ticking-tock. Period.”

           While Jack might not appreciate Dean’s ultimatum now, he will later on in his life. Dean imagined a future where he and Jack, much older than they were in this moment, sat on a porch swing talking about how good a job Dean did raising him to be a decent human being, as Jack’s partner, whose features he couldn’t distinguish from such a distance in their front yard, played with their son, named for the man who set Jack on the right path, obviously. He was knocked out of this fantasy, unfortunately, by the lumbering footsteps of his oafish brother.

           Sam entered the kitchen, Cas at his side with a tome held open in his hands. Their conversation withered as they took in the scene they walked in on. “Hey,” Sam said, shuffling his way to them, “what’s going on?”

           Dean opened his mouth, about to explain that he was dishing some serious parental law and wisdom. Except Jack hurriedly interrupted, rushing to speak first. “I have no idea,” he told them, “I was explaining TikTok to Dean, and suddenly he starts ranting about how it’s a homophobic platform?”

           “Because it is!” Dean argued. He grabbed Jack’s phone, waving it at the others. “Jack told me that they’ve gone full Russia – banning mlms and… and it was brainwashing him, making him hate gay people!”

           “Dean! I don’t hate gay people –“

           “Because I acted before any of the damage actually managed to take root,” he said, “If you used this any longer you would’ve had more harsh things to say about mlms than they’re annoying.”

           Jack groaned, scrubbing his face with twitching fingers. “They are annoying!”

           Dean gestured at Jack, asking with exaggerated brows and frown lines, what they should do about Jack’s denigration. Sam, for his part, seemed unbothered by Jack’s callous attitude. “I mean,” he shrugged, “Jack’s not wrong. Mlms are… pretty annoying.”

           Betrayed, Dean staggered to his feet. He faltered visibly, enough that Cas rushed over, dropping the yellowed book he held, and offered a hand. Dean accepted it, leaning on his boyfriend’s shoulder. The touch on the small of his back renewed his strength. “Sam,” he muttered, voice cracking, “how could you say that?”

           Sam mirrored the confusion noticeably present in Jack’s features. “Dean, why are you taking this so personally?”

           “Because, apparently,” Dean shouted at him, “you find me annoying!”

           “No more than I usually do,” Sam told Dean, “But that’s never bothered you before?”

           “Well, it’s pretty hard staying fucking unbothered when you think my sexuality is annoying.”

           “What?” Suddenly, something flashed behind Sam’s eyes, and the fog of bewilderment dissipated as pure rays of understanding shone from his smug expression and annoyingly struck Dean in the face. “Dean,” Sam sighed, “you… we’re not talking about gay people.”

           Dean snorted, “Of course you are. I’m not stupid.” Sam’s bitchy expression disagreed. “I’m hip, Sam. I know the lingo – better than you would, anyway… ‘ally’. Mlm… men loving men… What else could it be?”

           “Mlm is an acronym for multi-level marketing, Dean,” Sam explained, “that’s the kind of mlm we’ve been talking about this entire time.”

           “What?” Dean’s gaze bounced around the room, from Sam to Jack, then Cas, finally returning to Sam. “No, but I… the Internet, mlm is… it stands for…”

           “Things can have more than one meaning,” Cas supplied, appearing pained as he spoke, “especially acronyms.” He pressed a consolatory kiss upon Dean’s cheek, touch sparking a flame on his already burning skin. “It was nice to see how outspoken you’ve become, though.”

           “Yeah,” Sam agreed, “Like a modern-day Harvey Milk.”

           Dean refused to comment on Sam’s teasing, sinking into his seat again while his mind processed this new information. Cas joined him, continually rubbing soothing circles into his back. Sam sat next to Jack, across from them. Jack, sullenly tracing the cracks Dean made in his phone screen, asked, “Does this mean I’m not banned from TikTok?”

           “I just don’t get it,” Dean said, ignoring Jack’s question, “why would something that sounds boring like multi-level marketing even deserve its own acronym, let alone be banned from a whole app.”

           “Because it’s bad, Dean,” Sam explained, “multi-level marketing is, like, an evolved pyramid scheme, made more prevalent because of how easily social media disseminates misinformation and reaches impressionable people. Companies like TikTok are doing what they can to try and curb all these kinds of scams because, well… they’re annoying.”

           Adamant, Dean scowled and shook his head. “Mlm meaning that is what’s annoying.”

           “Too bad, Dean,” Sam said, “that’s probably the universally accepted meaning for it.”

           “No!” Dean said, “No, mlm is about gay people. It doesn’t have anything to do with scams.”

           Cas scoffed at Dean’s side, mumbling, “But what if scamming people is gay rights?”

           It was ridiculous, made in jest, and held no actual weight in a discussion, but Dean latched onto the throwaway line like it were the last life preserver on the Titanic. “You know what, Cas, you’re right!” he crowed, “Scamming is gay rights.”

           “It is?”

           “It should be,” Dean said, “I mean, do you know the number of times in my life I’ve scammed bigoted jerks for all they had? Scamming definitely feels like something that’s for gays only.”

           Sam rubbed his temples, battling an incoming migraine. “I don’t know why, but that take feels homophobic.”

           “Hush, Sam,” Cas told the other man, “I want to see where Dean goes with this.”

           Jack nodded, camera eclipsing his features. “Just let me hit record first, Dean. This could go viral.”

           Dean waited for the signal from Jack, a small thumbs up, and then he cleared his throat. “Okay, so here’s why scamming is a right for the gays and the gays alone…”

[moustacheshe]

Yandere! Stephen Strange x Reader: 'Taking Care Of You~'

Warnings: kidnapping, drugging, forced medication

"Mrs. (l/n) what are you doing at work?" A male voice asks referring to your cough, your red running nose and your reddened eyes. You sight and look up from your computer. On the other side of the desk stands Dr. Stephen Strange looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "I can't stay at home. Besides it's only a cold. So thank you for asking but I'm fine, Sir." You answer with a raspy voice giving him a forced smile. 'God he just won't leave me alone will he...' Nevertheless he doesn't seem to happy with your answer. "I can't let you work like that. You'll leave right now and go see a doctor." He seems a little bit angry but you don't care. You're a grown up person and can decide for yourself rather you can work or not. Maybe he's not even talking about your wellbeing but that of the patients. "Don't worry I'll stay away from the patients I won't even come into contact with one. I'm here in the office all day lo-" He interrupts you with a gesture of his hand and leans forward resting his hands on your desk. "I'm not talking about the patients. I'm concerned about YOUR wellbeing." His gaze rests upon you making you really uncomfortable. "Listen i-it's very nice of you...that you care about my wellbeing but-" You grip the mouse of your computer tight in your hand when he interrupts you once again. "If you don't listen to me then I'll have to-" Now he gets interrupted by a knock on the door and a nurse entering the room.

"Dr. Strange you have a surgery in a few minutes the others are already looking for you." Stephen looks at the nurse and then back at you. He sights and straightens up. "We're going to talk about this later. Because I'm pretty sure you are not going to follow my...let's call it 'advice' for your sake." You look at the nurse for help but she just looks confused back and forth between the two of you. 'If this keeps going on there will be even more gossip going on...' You think while despairing on the inside. Dr. Strange goes for the door and is about to leave but not before giving you one last strict glance. The door closes. You let out a heavy sight and close your eyes. A little growl rumbles in your throat. 'He's so annoying. Why can't he just leave me alone?'

It all just started when you've got your new job in this hospital. First it only was a polite greeting while passing each other on the hall. Then after a while you've always felt his eyes on you even when he couldn't be there. You may be paranoid but you always feel like there's someone following and watching you. Every time he meets you he would try to start a conversation with you, which would end up with you struggling to find an excuse for ending it. You know he had this really bad accident and he was gone for a long time. You truly felt sorry for him. But he eventually startet working again. It still is a mystery to you how he can operate with his hands but you're not all about questioning it. There were rumors about magic or something like that but you can't imagine him being a wizard...or anything like that.

The rest of your shift went by very slowly and the cold is really getting to you. It's already dark outside and you pack your stuff in the backpack ready to go home until you hear a knock on the door. "Come in!" You say and blow your nose. The door opens and Stephen Strange enters the room. Knowing who it is you don't pay him much attention. Not after he talked to you like he did earlier that day. "I'm already leaving Dr. Strange." You tell him without looking in his direction. "Mrs. (l/n) I don't appreciate the way you're treating me." His voice sounds calm but... "Ooooh YOU're not appreciating the way I treat YOU." You snap at him having enough of his bullshit. 'He's so arrogant! How can anybody like a person like him?' Quietly you let out a few coughs while looking at him waiting for his reaction. Your throat is dry and hurting. "Listen (y/n)... " He sights and pinches the bridge of his nose. "...I'm... I'm sorry, okay." You look at him a little surprised with a raised eyebrow. "I just don't want you to push yourself to far. I see how much you work and you even go to work when you're sick." Now you're just confused. "And your point is...?" You ask him. "I just want you to stay at home tomorrow and get some rest. Please don't force me to-" You interrupt him feeling kinda creeped out by his behavior. "What? You want to force me to stay home? Look I may or may not understand that you worry about me but I'm really tired at the moment and I don't want to discuss this topic any longer. You do you and I do me." You say your voice breaking a few times while talking. Without saying another word you quickly grab your stuff and push past Dr. Strange. "Good night, Sir." With these words you leave the room and the doctor stays behind.

'Why? Why isn't she seeing that I care so much about her... Am I doing something wrong? Why can't she see that there's more than just working in the same hospital...more than just friendship...' He has so many questions that he can't seem to find an answer to. The first moment he saw you he knew there was something about you...something special. He can't get you of his mind even though he always tries to keeps a clear head. The only reason he returned to the hospital after becoming the Sorcerer Supreme is to see you and to be with you. But...it can't go on like this forever. He needs you. You are his. Watching you at home just isn't enough anymore. 'I need to confess my love. ... But what if she says no?' In that case...he has to come up with a plan to 'convince' you.

You close the door to your house behind you and lock it. 'What's gotten into him?' You sight leaning against the door. 'He never acted like this in the past... Well he creeped me out a few times before but he never like...threatened me.' The more you think about it the more nervous you get. You shake your head. 'He always acts like that... He's probably not used to people not listening to him. Maybe he even is a little bit of a sociopath...' All these thoughts are driving you crazy and you feel the cold slowly taking its toll. So you decide it would be a good idea to take a hot bath and then go to bed. No sooner thought than done. You just throw everything you brought back from work into your bedroom and make your way to the bath. The steaming hot water feels like heaven and you feel your airways slowly relieving.

After a long relaxing bath your body is aching for sleep. Exhausted you lay down in your bed and pull up the blanket over your shivering body. You put on some warm clothes after your bath but you're still cold and you shake like a leaf. The cold really distresses you and you have trouble falling asleep. But after what seems like hours of tossing and turning in bed you eventually fall asleep. As you doze of into sleep you didn't notice the presence of a person standing next to your resting form.

"Isn't she beautiful?" The dark figure whispers. His cloak slightly touches his cheek in order to tell him something. "Yes yes I know just a little more time. She'll soon be ours." He steps closer and kneels beside your bed. His hand wanders to your cheek were his fingers slightly travel over your skin. He feels the heat coming from your body. Carefully he reaches for your forehead. "She has a fever..." He sighs and shakes his head. "I'll have to think about a plan for tomorrow. I can no longer wait and see." He whispers his cloak waving in excitement.

You wake up to your alarm clock going of. If you haven't felt like shit the day before now you do. You feel like you haven't slept at all. Getting up from your bed your body is aching and you feel kinda dizzy. 'At least I'm not cold anymore...' You think to yourself looking in your closet for something to put on today. After finding something warm to put on you get yourself ready for work. As you were eating your breakfast your phone rings and you pick it up looking at the screen. Your boss is calling you. You gulp. "Hello?" You answer the call. >Oh good morning Mrs. (l/n). I hoped you would answer my call before making your way to work.< The voice of your boss sounds through the phone. "How may I help you, Sir?" You ask having no clue at all. >Well first of Mrs. (l/n) I'm sorry for your loss. I didn't know how much stress you go through at the moment. And that's why I'll give you a few days off.< He sounds worried which confuses you even more. 'What loss is he talking about?' "Pardon me Sir but I don't quite understand." >Dr. Strange told me everything. I had no idea of how your situation at the moment is. Don't tell me otherwise I know it's hard to lose a family member and denial is the first option to come to your mind.< 'That asshole Strange...' "Listen Sir I don't-" >Oh I'm sorry Mrs. (l/n) I have to go. Get some time to work on your grief and your problems. Have a nice day.< "BUT I-" It was to late he'd already hung up. You sit there on your table slowly letting your phone sink starring in disbelief. 'He's really done it...' Letting out a loud sigh you lean back in your chair and repeat the whole conversation in your head. Suddenly you yell out in frustration and pound your fists on the table making the silverware clink. "Why?! Why can't he just mind his own business?!" You growl to yourself. You massage your temples and cough a few times. Now you're getting a headache and you feel even worse than before. Suddenly your doorbell rings. You get up from your chair with a loud sight and make your way to the door.

As you open it and see who's standing in front of it you feel anger and annoyance boiling up in you. "How dare you?!" You spit. The person in front of you is non other than Dr. Stephen Strange. He stares at you with an unreadable expression but you couldn't care less. "Stop interfering in my life! What's wrong with you?! Don't you have your own business to mind?! Just leave me the hell alone! Stop staring at me and SAY SOMETHING!" Your outburst gets Dr. Strange back into reality and focused on you. "Listen (y/n) I'm just doing this because you clearly don't care for yourself." He says in a calm voice. "I don't see how this is your business! Just stop already! Leave me alone!" You beg desperately trying to get him to understand. "(Y/n) why don't you understand that I care a lot about you. I just want to protect you." He explains putting his hands up in a calming manner. You take a step back in your house ready to close the door if he trys something. His behavior is really creeping you out and the worst thing is that you can't seem to understand him. "I-I...Dr. Strange we are colleagues and...I really want to leave it at that. I mean you still have Christine. She cares a lot about you a-and she is the same age as you and I thought you two were-" You try to make it clear that you have no interest in him...because you're not blind and you get the hints he's giving you. 'But maybe he's just trying to be nice...?' "No!" His sharp tone makes you flinch slightly and you are about to slam the door in his face. "I don't care about Christine! I only care about you and I love you (y/n) don't you understand?! I want you to be with me! I need to protect you it's dangerous out there!" Your heart is racing and you feel like screaming right now. "Okay that's enough. Please leave now Dr. Strange!" You try your hardest to sound tough and determined but your voice comes out shaking. He looks at you raising his eyebrows realising what he's just said. "Oh no (y/n) I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry. I'm-"

*BOOM*

You slam the door in his face before he can come anywhere near you. "Please (y/n) don't lock me out." The voice of the doctor comes muffled from the other side of the door. "GO AWAY! I ALREADY TOLD YOU I'M NOT-" Suddenly you hear a noise coming from behind you. You spin around in panic and look around behind you. But you can't seem to see anything suspicious. 'Okay (y/n) get it together! I can't even call the police on him otherwise I'm probably going to lose my job...' You feel really bad and weakened because of the cold and the stress. Leaning against the door you try not to cry. "(Y/n) I can feel that you're not well. Let me take care of you. Don't force me to-" "SHUT- up!" You scream your voice breaking in the end. Turning to face the door again you shake out of anger and fear. "If you don't leave immediately I'm going to call the-" Suddenly something grabs you from behind. It feels like some sort of fabric is wrapping itself tightly around you. You try to scream but the same fabric covers your mouth. As it also forces your legs together you are about to fall but it somehow keeps you standing. You struggle against it but it only keeps getting tighter until you can't move anymore. The cold is not helping you  either because of your weakened state you can't keep up the fight for long. You pant heavily and give in to whatever is holding you. The fabric around you losens a little bit as you begin to shake out of fear and exhaustion. You look to your door as suddenly some sort of portal appears in front of you. Out of the portal steps Stephen Strange who was behind your door just a moment ago. Your eyes widen and you want to back up but the fabric won't let you. "I'm sorry I don't wanted to do that but you left me with no choice." He steps towards you until he's only a few centimeters away from you. You wimper in response and fight the tears from coming out. Dr. Strange notices your frightened state and wrapps his arms around you. He presses your shaking form against him and trys to calm you down. "Shhh it's okay. I'll take good care of you. You'll never have to stress yourself with work again. It's not good for you." You weakly start to struggle again and scream against his chest until your throat hurts even more. He just tightens his hold on you and says nothing because he knows you'll get exhausted eventually. As you finally give up and stay still in his arms you start to cry and muffle pleas in the fabric covering your mouth. "You can let go of her now." Dr. Strange says and the thing holding you releases you. It flys behind the doctor and lays itself around his shoulders. "Please let me go I promise I won't tell anyone and we'll just forget about it... You just have to let me-" You plea with what's left of your voice and try to free yourself again with nothing more than a light push. "Hush I don't want to hear this nonsense anymore (y/n). I know it will be hard for you to adjust to your new life believe me I know it to well. But you'll be safe with me in the Sanctum Santorum." You shake your head and still try to escape his grasp. "My family and friends will search for me and they are going to safe me-" You have to pause and start coughing. This was to much for your voice. "That's enough (y/n) you need to rest now!" Stephen pulls something out of his pocket. "What *cough* are you-" You panic but the next moment you feel something piercing your neck. The liquid entering your system imitately makes you feel dizzy. You still try to struggle against him but you can already feel yourself slipping of into sleep. As your consciousness slowly slips away Stephen takes over the weight of your body. "There we go sweetheart that's much better isn't it?" He whisper as your struggles fade and you finally give up the fight against sleep.

You slowly begin to wake up. It's warm and soft around you. The smell of freshly washed bedding fills your nose. You move slowly and open up your eyes a little. Carefully you move your sore limbs and sit up slightly. You are still a bit dizzy and your vision is slightly blurry. As you look around the unfamiliar room you are in it hits you like a lightning bolt kicking you out of your dazed state. He kidnapped you. You feel panic rising up in you and you throw of the bedsheet. But the moment you want to leave the bed you fall face first on the ground. Something was holding your leg and as you turn to look what it is your face goes pale. A chain was attached from the bed to your ankle. "NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!" You shout panicking even more and pulling on the chain. Suddenly you stop as you hear someone opening the door to the room. You quickly look for something to defend yourself with and grab the beside lamp from the nightstand. Stephen enters the room holding a tray with a bowl, cutlery, a glass of water (at least you think it is water) and some bottles which look like they're containing medicine. He also wears rather strange clothes and the oh so familiar cape. The moment he looks at you and sees what you are holding his expression changes in disappointment. "I hope you slept well, sweetheart. Although I really thought you would change your attitude after your nap." He stets the tray aside on a large dresser and turns to face you. You slowly stand up holding the lamp in front of you. The chain on your ankle is forcing you to only fully stand on one leg. "You drugged and kidnapped me and you really think I would 'change my mind'? You are a sick psychopath! You are a mon-" "I AM NOT- a monster! (Y/n) I did this because I love you and I want to protect you. You'll come to understand it sooner or later. Now please put down the lamp you're going to hurt yourself." You don't even think about putting it down on the contrary your grip around the lamp tightens and your hands begin to shake. Stephen sighs and his cape detaches itself from his shoulders and darts towards you. You whimper and try to hit it with the lamp to keep it away from you. But the red fabric is to fast for you and dodges your every swing. It wraps around the lamp and pulls it out of your hand which sends you falling on your butt. "NO!" You yell frustrated. The cape now again wraps around you but not without you biting, pulling and kicking it. "STOP!" You can't keep up the fight for too long and again end up wrapped in a tight embrace. The cape lifts you up and lays you back down in the bed. "Please Stephen...please let me back home. I'm begging you please..." You begin to sob and squirm. Stephen just ignores your pleas and takes the tray he brought in before to the nightstand beside your bed. He sits down on the bed with an unreadable expression.

Stephen takes the bowl with the food he prepared for you while the cape forces you in an upright position. "Stephen please..." Your whole body shakes and tears stream down your cheeks. The doctor looks at you and you could see he was feeling guilty for just a brief moment. "You need to eat now (y/n) and then you're going to take some medicine." His monoton voice scares you. "Please you don't have to do this! Just...Just let us talk about this. I really-" "Quiet!" Immediately you go silent biting your buttom lip. "If you don't behave, I'm going to put you somewhere you really don't want to be." This thread sends a cold shiver down your spine and makes you wonder what he is capable of. "W-What are you?" You dare to ask which softens his expression. "Well I'm nothing to be afraid of as long as you are good." He reaches out for your face and puts his hand on your cheek making you flinch. "I'm not going to tell you, yet. It's already way to much for your little head to take in right now." His thumb strokes your cheek in order to calm you down. You don't dare to speak nor to move. He then takes his hand away to pick up the spoon and feed you the dish he has prepared. It looks like some kind of porridge. "Now you must be hungry. You need to eat something." He scoops up some of the food and directs it to your mouth. You hesitate to open up your mouth. "(Y/n)...please don't make me force feed you." Against anything your brain screams at you, you slowly open your mouth and let Stephen put the food in it. "Good girl." He praises you. You slowly swallow the warm and almost tasteless porridge. It's at least a little bit sweet. Dr. Strange feeds you the rest of the bowl leaving your insides feel warm from the food. He gives you a warm smile. "See it wasn't that bad now was it?" Besides feeling a little bit better after eating you still want to strangle him. He then opens up the medication. "I'm not going to take the medicine from you." You say cold, but feeling scared on the inside. He stops for a moment making you panic you even said something. "Well if that's so I'll need to do it another way." You want to back away but the fabric still holding you won't let you. "I actually hoped you would say that." A dark smile you've never seen before forms on his face. He takes a pill out of the jar and puts it into his mouth. 'He's not going to...' You start to struggle again seeing him taking a mouthful of the water. Stephen then takes your head in his hands forcefully opening your mouth with his fingers. You shake your head and start to cry again. He connects his mouth with yours and infuses the water and the pill into your mouth. For a short moment he stays like this holding your head still. As he pulls away from your shaking form he puts his hand over your mouth for you to not spit it out again. "Shhhh. Just swallow it. You're going to be okay I promise." You whimper trying to spit everything out but only a little bit of water runs down your chin. Finally you decide to swallow the warm water containing the pill. Stephen smiles as he sees you swallow the medication. He takes his hand away and studies your red face. Admittedly he really wants to feel and taste you. As a man who actually is not dirty minded he really needs to hold back when it comes to you. "You need to rest now. The medication will soon have an effect. It'll make you feel a little bit sleepy but the cold should go away very soon." He lays you back down and his cloak lets go of you positioning itself back around Stephens shoulders. You don't dare to move as he places the blanket over you stroking your hair in an effort to calm you. He just sits beside you on the bed admiring you while stroking your hair and face.

After some time you again feel the urge to sleep. 'Probably the medication...' You thought to yourself while your vision begins to blurr. Stephen notices and smiles softly while still stroking your hair. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you." He whispers as you slowly drift of into sleep again.