#6 months later.... i'm so SO sorry!!! THIS IS A MESS BUT HE IS A MESS THAT IS MY EXCUSE

[cursivebloodlines]

How many times had Dougie repeated this exact scenario through his head? His fragmented mind in all sorts of directions, all sorts of questions. What she would look like, whether she would look different, how she would be, what he would say. His imagined response could vary from beckoning Laurel into his welcoming, loving and open arms, to wipe away the negative memories and the agonising heartbreak of the last two years and start fresh, or resume where they left off, as though no time had passed at all. Or…it would alternate to the complete opposite, slamming the door in her face and telling her never to speak to him again. Which, of course, never happened. Could never happen –  his resolve could never be quite that strong – not when it came to her. But it was always one way or another. Neither happened. Not whatever this currently was. Somewhere in the middle, in the middle of all things unsaid from before and all the other things he wanted to say after the fact. The back and forths, the thinly veiled curtain of normalcy, partially acting as though nothing had changed when everything had changed. Like they were hanging in some sort of weird limbo. But he would take that over nothing at all. He would take it over more years of silence. As sad and pathetic as it sounded, if he found out before they got together that it would end in pain, devastation and abandonment…the truth of the matter was he would do it all over again, in a heartbeat. If he went back, he would do the same. Repeat the same actions. Meet her, be friends with her, love her with all he had and then some. The only thing he’d change was letting her go that day. Other than that? He would do everything the same. Even if he couldn’t change the ending, he would still relive it all over again. Because she was worth it, and Dougie would do anything for her. He thought he’d moved past that now, but seeing her again brought it all back. Two years trying to move past all the heartache and it took only moments for all that progress to unravel. Even though he was trying so hard to push past it, to deny it all. That was all shoved to the back of his mind, locked away to try and make sense when the time was right. The timing wasn’t right yet; not with her still here. And while Laurel was here, he was determined to make the most of every moment, in case there was a last. Even now, her words enabled another smile to grace his face, tugging up at the corners and softening his features with every word that left her mouth, that still playful tone emanating from her.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You’re probably giving me way too much credit,”  he shot back, though he was clinging on to every word like it was everything because it was; he was in awe of how her words could still mean so much to him, even if he disagreed. How natural the playfulness between them was, even despite everything. How was that even possible? Dougie would happily spend a lifetime trying to answer that question…or just simply enjoying it for whatever it was. And now it was his turn to learn from her, granting her his undivided attention as she always did with him. He always appreciated how patient she was with him, especially when it came to his nonsensical rambles. Laurel always told him how much she learned from him but the truth was, he learned so much from her, too. He always adored listening to whatever ran through her bright mind. He learned so much from her, grown as a person because of her. Became more willing and open to new things rather than burrowing himself deep in his comfort zone. Even now, listening to her tell him about the alleged differences between being a thief and a collector,  Her explanation made sense, the more he considered it and thought about it. Nodding his head, humming pensively as he weighed up the options. The example she gave about the museums solidified it for him, he supposed he could agree. Dougie could’ve sworn he’d read something about it before, come to think of it. Not completely but it was certainly rang some bells of familiarity. Even so, he was sure she could tell him anything and he would believe her, no questions asked. But then he did have a question that came to mind, wondering how this all was meant to relate to him. And…well, she must’ve had the same sort judging by the words that left her mouth next. A wry chuckle escaped him accidentally, unable to help the ways the corners pulled at his lips once more, a soft smile gracing his face. In some way, he supposed it could be similar… if he’s stealing the sayings without giving whoever originally said the credit… though he couldn’t imagine any of those people being bothered about some common bloke from Scotland using them.

Hearing her sort of stumble along her explanation, making sure to point out that the museum collecting or stealing things had nothing to do with him. She reminded him so much of himself in that moment, simply adorable and endearing. Though if it was him, he would have found himself annoying, rather. But her? Never, it was never ever a possibility. “I’ll always listen to you, even if you tell me not to,” he pointed out with a quiet chuckle, not laughing at her just… the whole thing. She was everything. “You are making sense, have been making sense. More sense than I ever will, anyway.” And they still kept playing along with the whole PowerPoint meeting to schedule. And Dougie knew, of course he knew, that they were simply delaying the inevitable here. By keeping up with the joking, by continuing the joke even when it was probably no longer funny - though to him, it may as well have been, it meant they could continue pretending that everything was okay. Live in the past of what used to be a little longer, act like his heart never ached from her absence because she was here now. Push aside his conflicting feelings for a little while longer. His heart doing flips when she suggested sending an invite for this non-existent presentation. He knew if she sent him that invite, he would accept it no matter what. Even if there was a conflict in his schedule, even now he would cancel any existing plans just to see her again. Pathetic? Maybe. Foolish? Completely. But he couldn’t help it, he would always put her first even now they weren’t together. Maybe one day he would put it past him, but not today. “I’ll be sure to refresh my emails, just to make sure I get it. Consider it done,” he teased, unable to help the warmth that coursed his veins at the thought, his heart fluttering still at the thought of seeing her again… if that was something even possible, he wasn’t sure. He could get to that later, though. 

The next thing he knew, she was…thanking him? It was engraved across his face, the confusion. He tried his best to stop the expression on his face but he couldn’t help the automatic, knee-jerk reaction of the raised eyebrows, the opening and closing of his mouth when she spoke, then trailed off. Was his own anxiety rubbing off on Laurel, he wondered? Or was he making her…nervous? That had to be something new, he didn’t remember her feeling nervous about…well, anything really. Doug was clueless; why was she thanking him for today? If anything, it should have been the other way around. Thanking her for coming back, for indulging him with her time and granting him answers he’d been waiting around for. In some ways, the thanks felt like silent apologies. Were they? Or was he doing what he did best: over thinking everything, the way he always did? Unclear. “I um,” he paused, unable to encourage the right words to spring to mind, so he focused on clearing his throat with an offhanded shrug and hint of a smile to match hers. “You don’t have to thank me for…” he trailed off, because he was unsure what he was being thanked for. Today could have been interpreted in several different ways and…right. Overthinking again. “You don’t have to thank me for anything. Really, it should probably be the other way around instead. Thank you for…coming here, especially since you really didn’t have to. You could’ve just left it, I wouldn’t have known better. But you didn’t, and I know how hard it must be, after - after, well, everything. So, thank you. There we go, now I said it,” he added with a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. 

Her face was a picture-perfect portrait. The way he could still make her laugh, even now, by being exaggerating was purely everything. Unable to help the way his heart fluttered at the way she looked at him, seeing pure love and fondness in those eyes he could easily get lost in for hours on end. Or the warmth blooming in his chest without her even trying. Or maybe he was getting his wires crossed, somehow. So much time had passed and yet when they were like this, it was as though no time had passed at all. It made it easier for his resolve to crumble, for him to want to just pretend the last two years had never happened and go back to where they left off.  So much time had passed and yet Laurel still embodied the image of perfection in his eyes. She could do no wrong in his eyes, and it was so easy for Dougie to unravel into old habits and forgive, forgive, forgive. He needed to tone it down a notch or two, come to his senses. He even shook his head as if that would eradicate the thoughts circling his mind before he reminded himself of what this was… (What was it, again?) The sound of her laugh was like music to his ears, and part of him wondered whether she was going to try and take it up a notch and exaggerate, maybe expand upon his feeble attempt to say ‘a little bit’ in the most complicated way and somehow make it even more so. But no, she seemed pretty happy with his comment, which of course was fine. If she was happy, so was he. It was always this way. He simply couldn’t tear his gaze away from her, the light shade of pink tinting her cheeks. An effect that he still had on her. Douglas wondered whether anyone else ever made her blush the way he seemingly did. If he recalled, Laurel likely denied it. Had that changed at all, in those two years? Why did that even matter? It was none of his business, but he couldn’t help himself. It felt like a little win under his belt, knowing that even if everything else changed, this was still something that could still occur. A silly, meaningless detail to dwell on but that was Dougie in a nutshell. Always overthinking. “And here I thought it was so you could keep me in check. Or accountable. We both know I’m not much of a runner,” he jested, struggling to bite back a snicker at his own thoughts, which he simply voiced with, “Pretty funny to think about, huh? Because if you see me running anywhere, my best advice is that you should probably start running too because some shit’s comin’.” Another hilarious mental image. Dwelling on the pretend scenarios in their heads was amusing, if fleeting. Powerpoint presentations, marathons… It had taken two years for them to come face-to-face again, in the flesh, and there they were, spouting on about hypotheticals. Sad, in a way, because he was so used to them planning things together. Things to actually do and not just imaginary scenarios that would never happen. Was that a glimpse into the future trajectory of their relationship? Did they even have a future relationship? Truthfully, he didn’t know. And the more time went on, the more Dougie realised that actually, he didn’t really know anything. So, he supposed he would have to simply wait and see. He’d waited for so long already, he could wait a bit longer.

This whole thing was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Dougie should have braced himself for the impact of her responses to his questions. After all, she was answering earnestly which was all that he could have asked for. All that he’d been dreaming about for the last bloody two years. He knew damn well, he was potentially opening up a can of worms by approaching the subject, about asking Laurel about her feelings. Maybe there was a part of him that secretly hoped she would turn around and tell him that this was for closure, and for nothing more. That the feelings she once had for him were gone completely now. Because then, he would know for sure he could close the book of them for once and for all, the chapter at an end. But they never truly ended, so why would he expect any differently? Their wasn’t a definitive end to their relationship. She left, sure, but they hadn’t explicitly broke up. It was open to interpretation. After all, he had expected her to come back. It took way longer than expected but she did come back. It was hard, figuring out where to go when their relationship never had a full, solid conclusion. Dougie did not know what the right thing to do was, where to go from here. What to do with the information he received today, how he felt about anything anymore. To some people, hearing them express their guilt and remorse for the actions and poor decisions they made would make them feel better, but he could only feel worse. Knowing that the person he loved was carrying around so much inside of them, it wasn’t nice at all. It did not bring him any satisfaction. Only made him feel awful because she was feeling bad, and not knowing how to help her without setting himself up for potentially getting hurt again.

The question of regret was reasonable in his mind. How she spoke of about the disintegration of their relationship wouldn’t have happened if they just stayed friends when they had the chance. There was no way of knowing that for sure, no matter what either of them would’ve believed. Bracing himself for further impact, Dougie was taken aback by the quick reaction to the question he placed in front of her. Quick to answer, quick to declare that no, she absolutely did not regret their relationship. He simply nodded, his hands running across his face, up to his forehead, then through his hair. He waited as she spoke, simply letting Laurel get whatever she was thinking off of her chest. What was he supposed to say to that? There was no way of knowing for sure. There were an infinite number of possibilities how things could have gone. Part of him still wondered whether it still sounded a bit like regret, but he tried to ignore that; she already answered that question only seconds before. Who was he to refute that?  Shrugging his shoulders, he rubbed the back of his neck. “You don’t know that. Anything else could’ve happened. We were good friends, yeah but…” We were better together, as more than that. You know that. He wanted to tag that to the end but stopped. It wouldn’t eliminate any other hurt, it would only take that hurt and have it run deeply. “You just don’t know what could’ve happened,” he murmured, shaking his head more so to himself than at her. Hearing his words echoed back to him, Dougie peered back at her. It was almost like she was in disbelief, wondering if she was hearing correctly. A timid smile crept up to his lips, a silent nod like he was quietly confirming that she’d heard right, that he had meant what he’d said. He wouldn’t have told her that if he didn’t believe it. It might’ve made him a fool, but he was a fool in love. And as for telling her about how he knew it wasn’t much to offer her, that was the feelings of his own self doubt creeping in. No matter how much he tried to push those thoughts at bay, they always found a way to sneak in, one way or another. “Okay, sorry.” His default phrase, the one terrible habit he could never quite shake. Apologising for the sake of apologising, apologising for things that were out of his control or not his fault, apologising because he didn’t know what else to say. He’d probably end up apologising for merely existing if he had the chance. “At least… um. At least you know - or remember - now.” Bright side to everything, as he always tried. 

Back to the jokes and the smiles again, a relief. Huffing in response to her accusing him of making her extra weird, a quiet laugh escaped his lips. “Oh, so it’s my fault you’re weird now, is it? Wow, Laurel. That’s low,” he teased, loving that familiar grin on her face. Plain and simple: he would never get enough of this. Of her. And he made a note to cherish however many of those moments they had left; Dougie wasn’t prepared to take those memories for granted ever again, not after what happened. Her comments in return made him smile, especially as he noticed her smile continue to grow. What he would do to make sure that smile never left her face again. God, he missed her so. “Well, I’ll be happy to remind you however many times you want.” He’d try his best, anyhow. And then…well, yeah. The slip. He’d been holding on to hope that Laurel might’ve missed his little slip but judging by the way she stopped mid-sentence and the look on her face said it all. His heart thundered against his chest, a rise of panic bubbling up. That momentary blip soon faded though when she didn’t comment on it, though he did notice the way she reacted. The panic simmered; it was a slip of the tongue, or he was getting way too comfortable way too quickly again. It was complicated. Completely, truly complicated. But having Laurel in his arms silenced the thoughts running rampant in his mind, probably the first form of comfort in a long, long time. Even though everything was tough and he had so much he needed to work through after today, but this moment with her right now? He would take it, make it last for as long as either of them would allow. Right now, he needed it like he needed air to breathe. It felt right. A lot like home, though he was already technically home; he had found a home in her, too. Even if that was no longer the case, for now, for these fleeting few moments, he could pretend that everything was okay. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend nothing had gone wrong, that she hadn’t left him, that this was any ordinary day. (Except that it wasn’t.) But at least whatever happened after they eventually let go - which neither of them seemed to want in that moment - he could say that they had this little moment. If only he did this before, two years ago, the morning she left. To just hold on to her, he could have found an excuse to stop her from seeing her parents that day. They could’ve stayed in their blissful, little bubble. Nothing else mattered. 

“Not just on pause, stopped altogether now. Do keep up,” he reminded her with a weak chuckle, his hand rubbing her back in soothing circles, his other stroking her hair absentmindedly. Then, came the unravelling. Two years of trying to heal from losing her, and after building up himself from the scraps she left of him, Dougie was undone. It pained him to think of those messages, pained him that he couldn’t even recall what some of them were. Despised himself for being pathetic enough to do that, regret oozing out of every pore and particle of his existence. Not only that, but to pile it on her. She probably already felt awful for leaving him with no explanation, he hated being the reason why she likely felt even worse. Not being able to separate the pain and anguish between the before and the now, and how neither of them ended up happy. He could never hide his emotions very well without someone seeing when he was not okay, and this… hearing her explicitly say she received the messages felt he was falling apart. Someone ripped the scab off and now he was bleeding again. Just when he thought he’d healed, he was right back to where he started. Part of him hoped that the next time they met, he could earnestly say he was good, doing better. That would have shown her, past Dougie thought. But he was far too much of an honest man, the type that would give you the clothes off his back if you needed to, no matter what happened in the past. It was his fatal flaw, and his friends often told him he needed to stop being a doormat. But this was different. Laurel never walked all over him. That’s not what this was about. Deep down, he knew she must’ve received the messages. Because when he felt low and missed her dearly, he would scroll through their conversations on the apps they talked on. And then, when he reached the end - his desperate spam. Underneath, in small font, he saw the word ‘Seen.’ But it wasn’t until now, hearing her say it to his face, that it clicked. He already knew, so why was he feeling so overwhelmingly broken?

Rambling when he was clearly upset was another one of his habits. Hoping that if he talked enough, it would hide the evidence like covering up a crime scene. It was one of his tells, instead. The wavering in his voice, the uncertainty. Hearing Laurel start but not finish her sentence, Doug could already have filled in the blanks. An instinctual reaction, the automatic kind that someone says because they don’t know what else to really say. Or, that’s how he felt, even if it wasn’t necessarily true. Though, what Laurel had said did have some element of truth to it. Upset with her? Absolutely. Angry? Like he just said, he couldn’t be if he tried. He was so ridden with devastation that it was too much to be angry too. The heartbreak had been hard enough, draining the life out of him. If he was angry, it was at himself. Angry was too violent of a word to describe it; frustrated was probably the more plausible option. But even if he were angry, it would never necessarily translate to be physically obvious. Douglas would have directed it to himself so she didn’t have to. Over time, the frustration just…faded. He was defeated. Defeated until she came showing up on his doorstep with answers he only dreamed of. Even if he’d been angry, he was never one to raise his voice at anyone. If he did, it would be met with instant apologies. It never solved anything. “Maybe once upon a time, I was those things. Except for being angry, or whatever… I don’t know. I just couldn’t take it out on you. You’ve probably tortured yourself enough to last a lifetime. You don’t deserve that…Or anymore than that and…I guess I just - I don’t know. It’s all so complicated,” he sighed, frustrated with himself with the inability to articulate his thoughts.

When Laurel’s eyes met his, he knew he was done for. Eyes were the window to the soul and all he could see were the words she echoed and the sincerity in them, in her voice. Hearing her say she loved him. Any self preservation tempted to throw out of the window and dump it into a bin. He was hers. He always would be. She was going to be the death of him, but he couldn’t imagine a better way to go. Inhaling a shaky breath, the words he’d been dying to hear, bringing him back to life but killing him all the same. I wish I could take it all back. “If only we could press the undo button and pretend like it didn’t happen..” he uttered weakly, his words barely above a whisper. ‘It’ referencing the distance between them, the heartbreak. Not the whole relationship, never that. His breath was trembling, his eyes drifting all over her face, a snapshot beneath his eyelids. Just in case. Was that how it was going to be now? Trying to capture every slight moment, expression, word, just in case it was the last again? In case she slipped between his fingers once more? He should have moved his hand back, or even better not put it on her face in the first place. Call it muscle memory. Or nostalgia. Dougie could call it whatever he wanted, have any fancy term to try and explain what his mind was going through. It wouldn’t change it. Her words brought him back to reality. I know I won’t hear that anymore. It was hard. Hearing those words from her because there was a part of him dying to say, ‘Don’t say that because its not necessarily true; I do love you. I’ll always love you. I just need time.’ But he couldn’t tell her that. Not because he didn’t love her because he did love her. Still loves her. But what if he couldn’t get past what happened? What if time wasn’t enough? The thought of giving her false hopes… of even trying to delude himself into having false hopes. It would break him more than he already was; he didn’t want to break Laurel, too. And so he said nothing. Instead, Dougie chose let her words hang in the air, clouding over them and settling on their shoulders.

His heart was doing somersaults, at her promises. He thought he might crash when he felt her hand brushing against his skin and then her lips against his hand, searing into his skin. Permanent, like a tattoo. And so familiar. Dougie was weak at the knees, completely and wholly at her mercy. “That day -” He croaked, paused to clear his throat and continued, voice shaky, “That day is never going to happen.” Shaking his head in silent protest to her comment about time and space. He never needed time and space, not with her around. Swallowing the lump forming in his throat, he wondered: was she excusing herself because this was getting too much for her? And using him as an excuse? Might be a result of his overthinking and anxiety at bay, but it felt like she was fading from him again. His heart, shattering again. If she wanted to go, then why couldn’t she just say so? Instead of using him as an excuse. “It’s…I…” His brows furrowed, shrugging his shoulders. Helplessly, he asked, “Where will you go?” It wasn’t until now he realised, he didn’t know where she was staying. Did she live locally now? Did she have a long way to travel? He hoped it wasn’t intrusive to ask, but the question was out now. Dougie didn’t know what he needed, and it wasn’t her place to assume what he needed, not anymore. “If you wanted to go, you could’ve just said,” he muttered under his breath, not even realised he’d uttered the words aloud.

This was all sorts of weird. If she didn't know any better, Laurel would believe she was dreaming. The one that came every other night. A dream of redemption. How she broke his heart, and still - he opened his door for her. That he can even smile and laugh with her around, her heart was in a frenzy. It gave her whiplash, how normal this felt when reality came busting through the door. But maybe, that's the way it should be. She shouldn't allow herself to enjoy this normalcy too much, not when she knew this could only destroy him. What was she supposed to do though? Walk out again? Say goodbye and leave his life before she did more damage? The better part of her knew it was the right thing to do, but that's not what her selfish heart wanted. Her heart didn't often want, and if it did, Laurel always chose to ignore. In her opinion, listening to her heart meant trouble. It had caused trouble in the past...caused chaos in Dougie's life too, the moment she let him in. That's how she viewed it for so long, that's what kept her away. However, it was difficult to ignore her longing, the agonizing pain her heart was in when she set her mind on moving on, on letting him go. His tongue-tied moment was not new to her. In fact, she always thought it was adorable. Just how much he wanted to say, how many words could rush to spill out, and still get tangled along the way. It was one of the things that drew her in. It was odd, but Laurel found him intriguing from the start. Between rushed words and tied tongues, she was hooked. Hooked on the adorable man with the blue eyes and wide smile. "I must've learned the sayings from you," she responded, the playful tone never leaving her lips, even when he complimented her brain. And there he was, with a compliment that meant more to her than anything she's heard before. Being complimented for her brains rather than her physical traits was fairly new, something she really only learned and believed with Dougie. Talking to him was always like communicating with someone from another world in the best way. He said things that she never would consider, opened her eyes to new ideas and concepts. In short, he became her guide to life. Laurel expected the confusion on his face as soon as the words left her lips, she always said things without thinking. Thinking about whether it made sense or it should even be said out loud. If they were on better terms, she may have shared her comment about him being a thief of her heart. It would've been cheesy and funny, she would've seen his wonderful smile again. Maybe that soft tint in his cheeks when he blushed. But instead, she found herself launching into the general explanation. "For some people, yeah I guess so. They can excuse stealing, for the sake of collecting. You know, like museums collecting artifacts and refusing to return them to their proper home." Laurel swore she had read an article about that recently. It was a safe response, but she hated that she couldn't just tell him what she had actually thought. She just wasn't allowed to anymore. "Not that it applies to you! You don't...it's not about you. Just, don't listen to me. I'm not making sense today." This hypothetical PowerPoint became more real the more they talked about it. It seemed pretty established that it was non-existent, but she probably should give it some thought. Joking about clearing his schedule, that could be an opportunity to see him again. They were not a thing anymore, let alone friends, but...maybe acquaintances. Acquaintances met to catch up, which...they could, and she could see him again...right? Frankly, she was afraid to ask, but she did know - she would stick around. Give him space of course, but she would stay. "I'll send a calendar invite for it then, make sure we don't miss the date."

Expect the unexpected. It seemed like that they were both experiencing that today. Her surprise visit, his surprise reaction. His and hers, in the weirdest way possible. "I..yeah," remnants of her smile remained; the nervous feeling was taking over. Possibly the only mutual feeling left between them, surprise. No time for pity though, she did do this to herself. "Well, I'm surprised in a good way, and yeah I mean...thank you for..." for what? For being you and being so kind to even open your door? But maybe, he mistook the knock for someone else and never meant to. The voice in her mind was quick to make an appearance. It was more like, thank you for not shutting the door on my face and letting me talk to you, after everything. Yes, that made more sense, though Laurel said none of that. "Well, thank you for today, I really appreciate it." And just like that, she traded the apologies for thank you's, all in this weird apology tour.

Oh, she had the heart eyes. Yep. Her gaze softened, the corners of her lips inevitably turning upwards as he responded with his own interpretation of a tiny bit. Dougie couldn't be cuter than in this moment, how he looked with his face scrunched up, the melodic laugh that came after. Her favorite sound in this world, the sound that represented happiness for her. How had she gone so long without it? She didn't really know. Their pictures and videos that lived in her phone helped, always a sore reminder of what she lost. What she gave up. In her mind, gave him up to protect him from her self-destructive circle. Look how well that turned out. "Okay okay, agree. Just the tiniest bit," she spoke in between soft laughs. How easily they got carried away, going back and forth on their flaws, and now they were laughing it out and trying to reduce it to the tiny bit they were joking about now. Something told her that no matter how much they discussed it, they wouldn't agree on the flaws. One always trying to convince the other that they were more flawed. Perhaps, Dougie was right though..about making mistakes. Mistakes happened, everyone was flawed, and it was necessary to move past it. All that did was remind her that she should've been honest with him, show her flaws to him - let her be accepted by him. Love should've been enough, right? The blushing was not expected, the warmth building in her cheeks left her conflicted. How easily he affected her, how that had not changed even after all this time. “Running buddies? I like that, I’d probably need the accountability.” Is this what they had been reduced to? Hypotheticals and imaginary scenarios? It hurt to think about, which is why she tried to not dwell on it. It was easier to enjoy the scenario, how amusing it was to think of doing these mundane things with him again - even if the likelihood was slim. Dougie running for fun just didn’t seem accurate, even in their hypothetical. Perhaps she needed to suggest something else, another imaginary plan for them in this hypothetical world.

Laurel didn't know what else to tell him, how else to tell him that it wasn't his fault. It probably wouldn't make a difference to him. She couldn't imagine the pain and hurt she caused him. All this time with no answers, he was probably thinking the worst. She never bothered to answer any of his messages or voicemails, not even the drunk ones. Though, it was tempting. There were so many times where Laurel got so close, even typed a message here and there, but she could never bring herself to press send. Always reminding herself that staying away was for the best, that it probably hurt him a lot at first but maybe, time had done its work. That maybe, her being away had led him to something better.

When she uttered his name, Laurel didn't really have any idea of where she was going with her words. What direction it would go in. Instead, it was a shabby attempt to say anything to break the silence between them, to snap them both out of the million thoughts that were in their minds. Still, all it really did was put the attention on her. Laurel spoke up, and it seemed like she just needed to keep going because Dougie was silent. Her eyes tried finding any expression, any indication of what may be running through his mind, but she couldn't decipher much. Not right now. He only repeated okay. Had she broken him? Brows furrowed momentarily, no that couldn't be it. Laurel could only hope some of her words were making it through; asking for more than that would be selfish. His response was met with a small smile and a nod, acknowledging his well wishes. Still, it didn't deter her - Laurel would piece his words eventually. No biggie. The question did catch her off guard a bit, she had to admit. Mostly because she didn't expect him to even want to ask..to know what she was thinking or feeling. It wasn't easy, to answer the question - how do you feel? Because, her feelings were right at the tip of her tongue, just wanting to exclaim - I love you! I have never stopped loving you, and I can paint this picture that I'm only here to give you the truth and leave..but the truth is, I came back for you. I'm selfish and I've hurt you every time. I should've stayed away, but I'm here instead because I haven't been able to stop loving you and I haven't felt right since I left. It just didn't seem right to unload all of this on him. His response to her question made sense, no idea if there was ever a right time. Yep, a shrug made sense. Laurel noticed the way he dropped his gaze, perhaps she should've skipped the first part of how she felt. Talking of her guilt didn't help anyone, and all she wanted to do was avoid hurting him more.

Laurel could tell he was hesitant to ask, she had hurt him again...hadn't she? Her protests quickly fell from her lips, "no no I don't!" A sharp breath inhaled before she kept speaking. It was a conflicting feeling, selective regret. She could never regret him or regret their relationship. He brought her happiness like she had never known. "I could never regret us...I just can't help but think that I wouldn't have hurt you if I had just...been your friend. We were good friends, right? I like to think I wouldn't have messed that up," she admitted. His quiet words were not expected, her eyes drawn up to see him once more. I've always been here. Laurel should've never forgotten that. It killed her, how he was right there for her once again. Words were caught in her throat, how to answer that...how to repay his kindness. "I-I didn't lose you..." she repeated his words as if trying to process and believe them. "And you're still here..." She glanced back up at him, always? She was almost tempted to ask if he was sure. If she really would always have him, because Laurel really wanted to believe it. Desperately wanted to believe in something. "Don't say that, that it's not a lot. It's everything to me...knowing that I can still count on you. I don't know when I forgot that."

The mom topic was behind them. Thankfully. Laurel couldn't bear continuing to talk about her, especially when she could see that even Dougie wasn't believing what he was selling. Still, the topic was done. "Hm, sounds to me like you made me extra weird," she said, accompanying his chuckle with a grin. Trying to return to the laughter and jokes, her new safe space. "You're right, maybe I overdid it a bit." And there was a laugh once more as she nodded. "Yes, you did say that already, but a reminder never hurts." When he laughed, her smile grew. A triumphant one, she couldn't help but be proud of the fact that she had made him smile again. Laurel shrugged in agreement, "right again, guess it won't change anything but—" words caught in her throat once more. This was becoming a usual thing for her today. Wait, hold on...did he just say that? Had Laurel heard him right? My love? Those were words she had not heard in a while, and was not expecting to hear, though she longed for them. More than anything. She wanted to remain calm, not react to avoid any awkwardness. It was difficult to control her facial expressions though, no matter how much she tried. Her eyes widened, mouth agape, as she tried to find something to say. Words just failed her. Then, Dougie coughed as if to snap them out of the moment, and she wanted to ask...ask what he meant by that. Did he really mean it? What did it mean? But no, if he wanted to ignore it, she had to oblige. No matter how much it made her heart jump. Her arms remained wrapped around him, endless comfort was right here. Everything about this was complicated, including this hug right now. Yet, she couldn't find it in herself to let go of him. He was her home, simple as that. She could hug 1,000 people and Laurel still wouldn't feel this way. This was all him, it was a feeling she couldn't have with anyone else. Or perhaps, she just couldn't let go because she knew that once she let go, she probably won't have another chance to be in his arms again. This was her last opportunity, a weird..final goodbye kind of thing. She didn't really know what she meant by making things right, Laurel only knew she was determined to do so. Whatever that could mean to Dougie. Distance, no distance. Never seeing her again to let him move on. Anything really, she was willing to do it. There was only a nod to his answer. It wasn't a no, and it might be foolish to believe in hope, but she did. She really did believe that him thinking about it was progress.

"Right, apologies are on pause," she answered him, a breathy laugh following before she allowed her head to lay on his chest. This was everything. Something so simple bringing her back to life. Mentioning the messages was not the right move, Laurel knew that now. Which was worse though? Admitting she read and heard everything, or pretending that she ignored it all? Perhaps, not saying anything at all. Her mind reminded her. Laurel remembered them all though. The messages tormented her, the drunk voicemails only made her cry. That phone was abandoned after a few weeks, and it would only ever be charged and turned on when she was drunk off her ass, and she missed him. She couldn't help herself, wanting to see his face in an old picture or watching a silly video, but she could never escape the wave of messages that flooded her phone as soon as it turned on. Not that she would tell him that. He didn't need to know that, and frankly, it was the least she deserved. Was he crying? Laurel heard him sniffle and her heart immediately shattered. God, would she ever stop fucking up? Answer was probably no. And his pleads, no Dougie please no. She couldn't keep doing this to him. That was her conclusion. Laurel wanted to stay in the area, rebuild whatever she could, but at whose expense? His? Impossible. She didn't dare. Silence was back, Laurel couldn't answer. So, she said it. Told him what she had been feeling for the past two years, driven by her yearning. How much she missed him. This didn't help the situation at all, but it was already out. It wasn't blurted out, it wasn't something she could cover with a cough. Besides, why would she? Laurel meant it. She couldn't hide that. Now, she didn't expect him to drop everything, they get back together, and it's a happy ending for everyone. No. Laurel wasn't that hopeful or naive. Whichever worked best. She had hurt him badly, and as kind as he was, trying to help alleviate some of her guilt - it didn't change the facts.

And then he spoke. Caught her by surprise again, though the response was...more or less, what she expected. As he pulled back, Laurel felt her heart sink. This was it. She had fucked up one last time. "No you don't have to..." say anything. Yeah, that's what she meant to say, but the pang in her chest prevented her from continuing. She glanced down for a moment as he rubbed his eyes, probably trying to clean himself up. Laurel didn't want to point it out, but she could tell he had teared up. The sniffling earlier had been a clue. She almost didn't want to answer, why it'd be easier it he was mad. Well, for starters, Laurel was very familiar with the emotion. She felt it was easier to navigate. She just wondered if handling his anger would be easier than being received with kindness. That one felt trickier to her. "I..." a sigh escaped her, unsure how to explain the logic in her mind. "I guess it just...it's the emotion I'm most familiar with. I don't know...I guess I figured you'd be upset, angry with me..and I can't wrap my head around you...not." Not exploding on her, not yelling, and essentially - unleashing all their anger on her? It was how things usually worked, she thought. Accept all their anger because it was a just punishment.

The more he spoke, the more she concluded: Dougie was an angel. A soft, beautiful angel that she never deserved. This man who had continuously shown her more kindness than she deserved was asserting that he could never be mad at her, that he couldn't yell at her. What to do with all that kindness? An apology almost tumbled out from her lips, ready to say sorry for his brain being mush, but she remembered: no more of those. His touch was electrifying, a shaky hum caught in her lips as he stroked her cheek. Instinctively, her eyes fluttered closed, taking the moment to really commit this to memory. Another memory to save for a rainy day. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes, finding his eyes, not wanting to lose the intricate details of those baby blues. "I wish I could take it all back," she said quietly. It was a loophole, another way to apologize without saying sorry. Laurel remained silent as he spoke, each word taking a piece of her heart and shattering it, like a plate being thrown to the floor. It wasn't his fault, god no. She could never blame him, but it didn't change the feeling in her chest. Dougie was right though. She couldn't just expect to hear those words, not anymore. "Please...don't," a soft shake of her head. "You don't need to...you know, say that. Or anything really. I just couldn't keep that to myself anymore, but I'm not...I know I won't hear that anymore."

Wait, letting her go? She was it for him? So caught up in her thoughts, she almost missed what he said. Words that would have her heart jumping with joy, instead only pained her to hear. He was it for her too, but she didn't dare say it. Couldn't bring more hurt to him. "I won't..I won't go. I mean, I'll leave your apartment of course." Terrible joke, terrible timing. Though, the truth. It's not like she was going tell him she needed a place to crash or something. "But, I mean that I won't leave. I'll be here until, one day, you decide you don't want me here anymore...then I'll go. I'll do anything you ask." Her hand tentatively reached out to hold his, the one stroking her cheek, and held his hand in hers. A faint squeeze before she brought his hands up to her lips, a soft kiss pressed on his hand. There she was, doing things she wasn't supposed to. "I put a lot on you today Dougie...but you don't need to do or say anything. Really. It is a lot, I'm not...time and space is what you need...I'm probably not helping...by being here." Time and space would probably help him clear his head. Maybe, he'd talk with a friend about this. His friends might help him land somewhere, remind him of what she did. And, at the end of the day, whichever way he landed, she would respect. "I just can't keep hurting you Dougie...I think this has been enough for today. I should probably go, not..going away," specifying seemed like the right thing to do. "I'll...I'll be around, promise."

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [6]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 6.9k

If you weren't able to catch the author's note, update will be very slow due to my campus enrolling us to a government extracurricular that spans for three months so updates with be VERY slow until then. Sorry this one took long, had to remove one chunk out of this chapter so I could have it posted as soon as I could. Also ik the last chapter's ending was so rushed, I'll try to fix it once I get the time so for now, ignore that mess ;-;

EDIT: plenty of details edited out but nothing too important, also fixed a few mistakes.

Please vote Jimin in Visa Choice in MAMA voting and push Namseok to the top 10 for Fan's Choice award! STREAM I'LL BE THERE

<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>

________

“Noona, please… Just turn around…”

“I would if I could, but I'm at my limit here!”

“I will break your fingers if you don’t move.”

“Try it and I’ll tell Namjoon you were the one who spilled alcohol on the book he was reading the other day!”

“Just turn around damn it!”

“I already am! I'm not gonna take a fucking peak!”

You're living through a nightmare.

Never in your life did you think working as a make-up artist for an up-and-rising boy idol group would eventually lead you to where you are now; with half of your body out of the bathroom with an arm stretched inside to hold Jimin’s hand that's also reaching out for yours while he stands in front of the toilet.

What are you, Bangtan's—The current biggest boyband in the world—makeup artists doing, holding onto one of the member’s hands while he’s in the bathroom exactly?

Soulbond strain, that’s what the doctor had said. That's what caused the constant fatigue you and Jimin were feeling yesterday which eventually caused you both to pass out from exhaustion. Due to how ill-informed they are of both your marks, they weren't aware of how fragile your new bond was and how much touching should be involved for the first few days.

So now, you are sentenced—sentenced because having to hold your soulmate's hand while you piss, and eventually, shower and shit is the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you—to nonstop skinship with Jimin for a week. Though after a few days, your body could withstand not holding his hand for almost a minute and you hoped it goes past an hour when the week finally ends.

Today marks the last day you both will be confined to the hospital as they've finally cleaned up one of the spare rooms in the dorm so you could move in.

You were so glad you could finally eat something more nutritious than bland soup. It should be a talent to be able to cook a soup so tasteless it would even make a white person frown despite the numerous vegetables and meat on them.

Since Jungkook's Birthday, you found yourself more often than not staring at the ceiling after eating, dreaming about eating other food so intensely it's like you could taste them in your buds.

A few days have passed since you found out you were soulmates with your best friends but you still couldn’t wrap your head around it.

The thought that these five—possibly seven depending on Seokjin and Hoseok’s test results later today—down to earth, aphrodite-blessed men with even more beautiful traits were tethered to you is bizarre. The idea never fails to short-circuit your brain every time you think about it. 

And it's hard not to, not when you wake up sleeping next to the peaceful face of South Korea’s IT boy—with his arms wrapped around you and his head nuzzled under your chin; Its something you’re still trying to get used to as you’ve never dared to sleep while cuddling with your friends, no matter how tired you might be. It was far too intimate of an act, reserved for those who are romantically involved and for someone with feelings as fickle as yours back then, it was inappropriate.

Not that it mattered much now but it's still difficult to be comfortable with the domesticity of it all.

Save for Taehyung and Seokjin, everyone else has continued working, although you had advised a weary looking Hoseok to take a break, he insisted that he's fine whilst practically dragging himself out of the room. Namjoon had assured you that he'll watch over his hyung but you had threatened Yoongi for extra measures. 

Speaking of work, your friends have been blowing up your phone since Jungkook's birthday, asking why they were required to sign a whole different NDA and you told them about your soulmates. 

All of them reacted positively, Minhyuk had even pleaded to hear about how you discovered and had asked to be informed of all the latest happenings, from the courting, dates, and even the bedroom—something you had promised to hit him for once you're back to work.

But for now, you were stuck with a foot out of the bathroom and body turned to the opposite with an arm stretched far out to hold Jimin's hand as he finished his business. 

So far, there's been no accidental flashing, to which you've been thankful for. The whole ordeal is already awkward as it is with only having to hear each other pee.

Jimin couldn’t even jokingly flirt with you the whole time, far too mortified with the idea of both parties being able to hear the stream of piss to even bother coming up with jokes to lighten up the situation, nor could you dare look into his eyes after the first few times you both had to go through this. You had refrained from eating too much in fear of having to shit during the week but you knew it would eventually happen.

Especially since you both have been greenlit to eat take outs and Seokjin had generously offered to buy you both food—bless that wonderful, handsome man—and dragged Taehyung out with him. 

You had been hesitant to make a few demands at first because do you even deserve the kindness Seokjin is showing you after hurting him for years? But the man proved himself devoted once more when he listed down the food you’ve been craving desperately for without hearing it from your lips.

(Tae had joked that maybe it's the soulmate mark manifesting a little late and Jimin elbowed him for that.)

You didn’t even get to tell him not to bother when he began to loudly chant gibberish as he pulled Taehyung out of the room with him.

After all the babying and princess treatment you've been receiving in the short time of knowing you were soulmates, it's hard not to feel frustrated having your best friends become your beck and call when they—save for Yoongi—hadn't been doing so for the past few years. It was somewhat pressuring that you could ask Jungkook to brush his teeth and immediately drink orange juice and he'd do it without question, if not gargling the juice for a little while longer just because you asked him to do it. 

From living alone and getting used to doing things by yourself, to suddenly having five people who'd follow your whims almost blindly, was overwhelming and slowly becoming more annoying than it is helpful.

If it wasn't for the guilt from getting irritated, you would've blown up on the first day when most of your soulmates had refused to let you stand up and walk around the room in fear of having you collapse.

Sure you had passed out from the soulbond strain but that same bond rendered you invulnerable to most things, you're not about to die walking around the room with Jimin, Yoongs.

You couldn't fault Jungkook and Tae for wanting to baby you. Jungkook never had someone to pamper and spoil, and Taehyung only had Jungkook; Even then, it wasn't in a romantic way and Jungkook was also being taken care of by the others so he didn't need to do much. His ex and him didn't last long enough for when BTS’ fame had skyrocketed and he had more money than he could ever spend in his life and is quickly running out of things to spend it on.

Still, it was hard to take all the coddling. It was better when they treated you with the distance platonic relationships had granted you.

The sound of a zipper broke through the awkward atmosphere before the flush of the toilet came. With a tug on your hand, you stepped back into the bathroom to follow Jimin to the sink so he could wash his hand, eyes still refusing to meet.

God, how did a friendship where he could literally strip off to his underwear in front of each other could turn so awkward like this?!

After spraying his hands with an overloading amount of alcohol—”Noona that’s overkill, I’ve already washed my hands.” “That’s just water, I’m not letting you touch me with a hand only washed with water!”— you and Jimin returned to the bed, huddled next to each other as you both scrolled on social media with both your bare legs thrown over his.

There's been comments left on your instagram page asking for Jimin's health and you decided to reply to one comment to say that he's fine and recovering. Silencing the app, you move to twitter when the door suddenly opens and in comes Seokjin holding up two plastic bags of takeout, flexing them as if they were golden medals and you sit up.

“Your handsome savior has arrived with fries and actually good food!”

“Hi noona!” Taehyung greets as he steps out of Jin's shadow.

“Jin you're actually the most good looking man I've ever seen in this forsaken planet, did you get me cheese and sour cream flav—”

“Of course I did,” He scoffed, putting down two paper bags and one drink carrier on your bedside table before placing the rest on the table near the bathroom door. “Who do you think I am?!”

“He almost ordered it all in cheese until I reminded him that you wanted sour cream too, noona.” Taehyung chimes in with a grin as he closes the door, a hand hidden behind his back while he holds a covered cup in the other. 

Seokjin snapped his head towards him with an indignant ‘Ya!’, to which Tae only giggled at.

“You bought that heinous, god awful sweet tea with my money! How could you do this to me?!”

“I offered to pay but you—”

“WITH MY MONEY!”

Everyone only laughed and Jin trudged over with Jimin’s lunch in hand, offering it with an outreached arm and he took it. At least, he tried to. Jin suddenly raised his hand over his head. You watched as Jin continuously teased Jimin whose reach is limited due to the need to be holding your hand. 

Jimin then finally got a grip on the plastic bag’s bottom and suddenly, their fishing game became a tug of war.

“Wait wait wait! You're going to tear it! It's going to spill!”

“Just fucking give it to me, hyung!” Jimin grunt, tugging one last time and the side of the bag rips, immediately Jin lets go.

“Why would you pull that hard?!”

Jimin ignored him in favor of pulling out his container, which he realized is overwhelmingly little compared to your three packages.

“Hyung!” He screams with his bottom lip jut out, dragging out the word. “How come I only have one food package? I'm also a patient, you know?!”

“You didn't request anything.” Jin says nonchalantly, shrugging.

“We've been together for years hyung! You should've known what I wanted like you did noona! This is blatant favoritism hyung!”

Seokjin ignored him, handing you a large bowl of mixed flavored fries, a large boba tea, and a plastic container where an aroma of caramelized fried chicken is leaking out of it the moment it leaves the paper bag. Next to you, Jimin scoffed, incredulous as he crossed his arms.

“She gets fried chicken, fries and boba but I only get Jajangmyeon?!” 

Once again, he ignored the younger man, rolling his eyes as Taehyung bounds up to his disgruntled best friend to reveal the half occupied half empty paper beverage carrier hidden behind his back, grinning widely as Jimin’s face morphs into disbelieving betrayal.

“Wow, so this is how we do things now, huh? I can’t believe you’d do this to me when I’m a patient!” 

“I’m so sorry, you poor poor thing.” Taehyung pouts as he offers out the food and Jimin spared no time in swiping the bag from him.

With their bicker finally coming to an end and Taehyung comfortably sitting crossed legs at the foot of you and Jimin’s bed, you turned to your food.

After eating nothing but bland, runny soup since the night at Jungkook’s birthday, tasting the cheddar almost made you tear up. You had taken advantage of the privilege of tasting far too long, being able to finally ingest something else felt euphoric, as if you were given the chance to walk through the garden of eden.

Exaggerated much but it's the only way you could explain the feeling.

Wasting no more time, you dug into the french fries bowl. 

You hear Seokjin whisper something underneath his breath, sounding incredulous. You watched as he crossed over to Taehyung and snatched his cup, ignoring the younger man’s indignant yelp and took a sip.

Instantly, the mixed taste of cheddar and sour cream was washed away by the familiar taste of Taehyung’s heinous tea preference of illegal amounts of tea and milk. The harsh difference of the three flavors along with the texture of fries gliding on your tongue makes you gag. Your soulmates react, Jimin placing his food down to place his cupped hands under you as if trying to catch your puke while Tae flinches, about to reach over until he sees his brother already positioned to help you and turns to fetch you a glass of water instead.

“You ate too fast noona, try to chew it first.”

“You ate too fast noona, try to chew it first.” You mimic in a tone far too high to be his and Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Why are you being so annoying today?”

“I’m sorry I’m getting cranky after someone disrupted me eating—” Your words abruptly end as Jin suddenly surged in to hug you.

You look at Taehyung who’s staring longingly at his tea still in Jin’s grasp behind you before turning to a similarly perplexed Jimin mid-bite of his tteokbokki. Raising an eyebrow at him, he responds with a shrug before continuing to stuff food into his mouth.

But as you rested both hands on his shoulders, Jin suddenly sniffled.

“Jin?”

Alert, you gently push him off and your eyes meet with his misty pairs, matched with a teary smile stretching plush red lips. Your heart leapt to your throat as both his hands cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead in under a second. But instead of getting a seizure or being struck with an overwhelming amount of pain, nothing happened.

Instead a warm feeling, akin to what the rest of your soulmates caused you, wrapped around you like a thick blanket and you froze.

Then, Jin stands with an excited yip and excused himself out of the room, leaving you and the others confused.

What?

You didn't need to look at Jimin or Tae to know they all had huge question marks hanging over their heads as they stared at where they last saw their hyung disappear out of the room.

Why didn't your body react from having someone kiss your forehead while your bonds were still unsettled? From what you've read, there's always a chance of it happening, yet even if your relationship with him stretched over years, there shouldn't be any reason why he's not causing you and Jimin pain.

Unless he's also a soulmate.

Immediately you were reminded of the time he had carried you and wondered why no one ever questioned why nothing fatal had happened when he had done that in the DFA. Even if it had everyone in a flurry of panic, someone should've noticed and questioned it right? Yoongi should have at least.

There was also that one time Hoseok had held your hand in the car, it was brief but it should've done something still with a Nexus bond as complicated and huge as yours. Yet like with Seokjin, nothing happened.

“What did I just watch?” Taehyung began and you wish you had the answer. “Did I just witness my soulmate get stolen by Seokjin hyung?”

“No,” Jimin says, eyes thoughtful as he looks at you before turning to the bathroom door. “I think we just discovered that hyung is also tethered to her.”

Both your head snapped to the man next to you.

In the small amount of time you stared at your soulmate, the pieces began to click as the cogs in your mind whirs with all the possibilities before it took you back to the moment the horrendous taste of Taehyung's tea violated your tongue. Your mouth falls into an ‘o’.

“Shared Tastebuds.” You mutter.

Jimin opens his mouth to ask you to elaborate when Seokjin reenters with a doctor following behind him, red faced but the blinding wide smile he wore was enough to make you forget he was crying not a second before. The doctor next to him looked ecstatic, eyes a little crazy at the newfound discovery.

“Congratulations, it seems that also Mr. Kim here is a part of your Nexus bond!” He says a little cheerily as he hugs the clipboard close to his chest. “It would do you all well to inform the rest of the group of this finding. From a professional standpoint, I do think that Mr. Jung has a huge chance of also being a part of your Nexus.”

To say you never had doubts that the other two members were a part of your nexus would be a lie, you had hoped they were but the absence of mark manifestation symptoms made it hard to believe they’ll be one of your soulmates.

Who knew all it took to find out if you and Jin were connected was eating while in the presence of each other? If you hadn’t fainted from the lack of food and the Soulbond strain, would you have found out about it earlier?

Was he the reason you’d taste the savory taste of a well-seasoned grilled meat or the sweet fizzling taste of a soda late at night yesterday?

Or is the bond you both have will allow for long distance sense sharing? There are two types of Shared Tastebuds after all.

“The results are due today right?” Jimin asks and the doctor turns to his watch.

“This afternoon I'm sure just before you both are discharged. But,” He turns to Jin. “For now I'll be taking Mr. Kim with me to register his soulbond and involvement in your Nexus.”

When they left again, the three of you remained unmoving, stunned. 

It must be Jimin’s touch that had kept you calm throughout the revelation because you didn’t know how to react. There’s no doubt joy in the hurricane of emotions swirling in your chest, as well as the pacifying effect from both your and Jimin’s touch overwhelming the rising stress and conflict at the back of your head, forcing and pushing them back into the shadows.

You knew you should be stressing over the possibilities of having seven soulmates and how you’d divide your time to be able to equally spend time with everyone, it was already difficult having five these past few days. More often than not, you found yourself suffering a headache caused by the constant noise and overwhelming sensations each individual soulmarks gave you. 

From the constant sounds of Namjoon’s heartbeat at the back of your head, and Jimin’s touch making your skin thrum, even the Amoneuron in your blood is having a hard time keeping you away from soulbond hyperactivity.

Someone’s phone erupted into a shrill scream, it was Taehyung’s. Picking it up, he automatically puts it on speaker and holds the end of the phone close to his mouth. 

“Is it true? Please tell me it’s not true! I’m already competing with most of my hyungs for noona’s time!”

“This isn’t a competition, gguk.” Yoongi drawled in the background. “Didn’t we already establish that? No fighting for her hear—”

“What soulmark do they have?!” 

“Manager Sejin is already on the way with a lawyer to handle the legal side of things, how are you guys doing right now? Is noona good?” Namjoon asks, sounding closer to the mic.

“She didn't faint if that's what you're asking about. If anything,” Taehyung turns to you. “She looks a little out of it.”

“How did it happen? Is it the test? Is it out already?” Hoseok's voice came through, nervous.

“Yeah we'll deliver it to you later also, remember hyung complaining about tasting something weird? Apparently he was tasting the hospital special soup—”

_______

On your dismissal, the doctor had handed the eldest their test results. Seokjin had thrown him out since he already knew what it'll entail but held on protectively on Hoseok's envelope.

Jimin had proposed a small celebration for the mark's manifestation for everyone, nothing too grand, just a few take outs appropriate for tomorrow’s dinner—because Jungkook and Tae had requested pancakes and waffles for whatever reason—and a small cake. 

With five—not counting Jimin as he insisted that you both sit the activity out and Hoseok who visited his sister but promised to return the next day to read his result at dinner—men at your disposal, boxing up and moving your items into their dorm was easy, even if Yoongi has noticeably slowed down the stairs carrying the same one box he’s picked up since earlier; not that you’d call him out on it but you knew Seokjin and Jimin would to do it instead.

If it wasn't for Jungkook's eagerness to have you move in, it would have taken you all longer than you had today.

It was surreal seeing the items in your home slowly decrease, the mass on your shelves and all the personality of every room disappear with every box filled. You had been staying in the same apartment since you were 21, to have its familiar sights and spots be slowly stripped off of its glow felt sadder than you thought it would be.

BigHit had requested your company friends do all the basic packing such as your clothes and products while you were at the hospital, it wasn't forced but they acted like it was anyway. They (read: Minhyuk and Nabi) had jokingly complained about being tasked with doing things your soulmates should’ve been doing, Minhyuk going as far as threatening to sneak off something into one of the boxes and you feared for your life for what that something might entail.

You offered to buy them anything they want the next time you all visit the mall in exchange for their full cooperation and Minhyuk had vowed to run your bank dry with a sly grin.

“It's not like you’d even need them anymore when you’ve got the world’s biggest boyband as your soulmates, might as well spend your hard earned money on important things; friends, especially me though.”

You wouldn't deny the fact that you tried dating Guwon with the hopes of living lavishly without lifting a finger but the world would have to bathe in fire and water before you'd let them buy you expensive things outside of food; that you accept because you'd be able to taste and experience delicious dishes. Not to mention, it's practical.

Having your furniture moved out as well was out of the question after an hour of argument with Jimin and Jin who insisted on having you buy new decorations, except for the books, trinkets, and plethora of BTS collection you were given by the members themselves every comeback.

You argued that you didn’t need them to buy new furniture when you already have working ones.

But that argument was easily disproved when the maknaes (plus you as an unwilling participant and Namjoon because: "hyung you’re big, we need to weight test it!") had jumped into your bed and the frames creaked and trembled.

He was right, as much as it pains you to accept it.

But just because he's right doesn't mean you agree with him.

In the end, with one against eventually all of them, you were due for furniture shopping with Jimin, Yoongi and Namjoon the next day. Today though, you were bunking with Jimin due to the need for constant skinship and the lack of bed in your new room.

You spent the better half of the afternoon unboxing and filling your closet with your items which barely filled two shelves out of six that were bolted onto the wall of the small well-lit room.

“Noona, your closet is a bit… barren.”

“The closets are just huge, I have plenty.”

“I’m concerned that you think this is plenty.” He says, thumbing the material of your cream cardigan.

“Don't you fucking dare Park Jimin.”

He smiled. “Who says I'm the one who'll do the buying? I don’t gift clothes noona, you should know that.”

After finding out your and Jin’s soulmark, you had thought deciding what you ate for dinner until the bond settled would be a hassle or until you both learn how to disable it. But Jin had simply agreed on your choices that night with a shrug of his shoulder.

And that amount of trust in whatever you’ll pick scares you in ways you never thought it would.

It's just a simple decision, one would say, but the ugly voices at the back of your head wondered if you even deserve this amount of consideration from him when you hadn’t noticed his lingering feelings for you for years.

But it seems like that fact has long been swept under the rug when the maknaes bounded up to you with mischief in their eyes.

Upon the realization that their Jin hyung would agree to almost anything you’d eat for a while, Jungkook and Taehyung wasted no second running up to you to propose the idea of ordering you a strawberry ice cream for dessert, claiming it was the only way to test their hyung’s love for her.

“You see noona, if hyung really loves you like he said he does, he would suck it up like the man he is.” Jungkook had reasoned to you with Taehyung nodding behind him and Jimin grinning mischievously next to you.

Fortunately for Jin, you don’t think forcing him to taste strawberry flavored things on the day he found out he wasn’t untethered would be a good decision despite the loud voice at the back of your head goading you to follow through their plan for fun.

But you promised the maknaes that you’ll do it someday.

Dinner was surprisingly uneventful with a few talks about the schedule changes and the rumors Jungkook had read and heard from his small friend group outside his brothers. If it wasn’t for the soft glow of gold at the edge of your vision from where your foot is resting on top of Jimin’s under the table and the faint outline of the red string of fate stretching across to Yoongi’s right pinkie, you would’ve tricked your brain into thinking it was a normal dinner with your friends.

With the words streaming out of Jungkook’s mouth, Tae and Jimin’s additional information and the scandalous gasp and widened eyes around the table once the pieces began to form a picture, you almost thought it was an average weekly dinner with your bosses.

But soon enough, plates are taken into the kitchen and Jimin is already pulling you up to your room, saying how he wants to take a shower and that you should take your toiletries.

Something you had dreaded since you heard the doctor had sentenced you to be in constant skinship with Jimin.

Why are you even nervous?! You had seen him and his brothers in their boxers from being one of their make up artists yet your heart had been thudding loudly in your ears the moment you had entered his room with your travel bag in hand.

Turns out, there was a truth in the saying “Ignorance is bliss” in the fact that knowing something could alter the way you think and perceive even the smallest of actions. In your case, knowing Jimin's your soulmate while facing the dilemma of showering together had you completely fucked up.

On the verge of a breakdown, half a foot on the ledge and the other hanging over the fall.

You had swam in public pools with him before but it was always with the presence of others, to be alone in a small room in nothing but your undies while maintaining skinship with your soulmate—

Isn't that a bit too intimate?

Will you even survive?

To stand half naked in a minimal space alone with Jimin, your heart might just collapse.

Seeing him in his underwear shouldn't faze you as much as it should. He and the others has stripped in front of you in a haste of changing into the next costume for the next performance but in the minimal space of his bathroom where you both are secluded away from the other dwellers of the building and he's already topless and is now unbuttoning and sliding the zippers of his jorts, the mass in your throat kept on thickening with the tension in the air.

Your eyes roamed the soft, flatness of his stomach; from up his lightly freckled bare chest and down to the thin trail of hair down his abdomen. The prominent bones of his adonis belt had your throat drying up.

Seeing him topless shouldn't affect you the way it should yet you found yourself heating up at the sight of them.

When he begins to remove his pants, you force yourself to look away, cheeks burning hot as you thumb the top buttons of your—Taehyung’s—polo before beginning to undo them all with your heart thudding loudly in your ears.

The string tied to your finger lights up in a rhythmic beat, persistent and hurried. Wrapping your fingers around it, Yoongi's loud concern immediately washes over your body. You respond to him by pushing down reassurance down the lane and the thread dulls from one side.

“Did hyung contact you?”

You turn to Jimin, already stripped down to his boxers.

God is really testing you today, putting a handsome man in his underwear in front of you and tempting you to let your gaze fall down for a glimpse of his thick muscled thighs you always saw through the fabric of his skinny jeans.

“Ye-yeah, nothing to worry about though. Give me your foot, I need to remove my shirt.”

Obediently, he puts his foot forward and you step on it before making quick work of your shirt. You feel his burning gaze roam your skin and you shiver from its intensity.

By the time you had your pants pooling on the floor alongside his, your heart is thudding uncontrollably in a way that might concern Namjoon at how fast it's going.

Why is the calming effect of Jimin's touch absent when you need it?

“Ready to go?” 

You almost jumped at how hoarse his voice had gotten but recovered quickly and nodded, stepping first into the shower and twisting the valve towards the hotter temperature. Jimin hissed the moment the water touched his skin, breaking the stifling tension for a moment.

“How are your skin not burning off?! It's so hot!”

You rolled your eyes. “You're being dramatic, it's not that hot.”

“It is! The mirror is literally steaming!” He exclaimed, pointing at the long horizontal mirror above the sink which is indeed, fogging up. 

Jimin then leaned over, his naked chest touching your back. Goosebumps prickled your skin and you barely stopped the urge to shiver as he manipulated the valve until he was satisfied with the temperature. When he steps back, you finally let out the breath you didn't realize you were holding.

Hearing your exhale, he laughed lightheartedly. The fucker did it on purpose.

Trying to ignore the thumps of your racing heart, you busied yourself with the task of washing your hair. You reached for the shampoo bottle and popped open the cap, body still facing the wall.

“Noona.”

You looked over your shoulder and Jimin was scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

“Can I wash your hair for you?” He shyly asks, his sly attitude from earlier nonexistent. “I've never done that with someone else before. I-I’ve always wanted to do that now and now that we're soulmates, I was–I was wondering if maybe I–we could—”

“Not even with that girl you’ve dated before?”

He shook his head. “We were too busy to do something like that, noona. Idol lives and all that. It's one of the reasons why we broke up.”

“She was pretty nice though.”

His lips quirks up. “Don’t get jealous noona, you’re my soulmate after all.”

You hit his shoulder and he brought his arms up to shield himself, giggling. “Do you want to wash each other’s hair or not?!”

Despite your agreement, you were beyond nervous as you handed him the shampoo and turned around to shut the shower off. The string on your finger thrummed once more, still concerned as your heart leapt up to your throat when Jimin's fingers began to thread and scrape his nails against your scalp.

A thrill of pleasure shoots down your spine and you hold back the urge to mewl as he begins to put more pressure on his motions.

It stayed like that for a while and you reveled in the pure domesticity of it all. 

When Jimin retracts his hands, you reach for his shampoo and order him to turn around.

“What if I don't want to?” He challenges with a mischievous smirk.

“If it gets in your eyes, it's your fault.”

He giggled and shrunk down to your height, to which you hit his shoulder for and he laughed, standing back up. 

“Can you even reach the top of my head like this?”

“Fine but don't complain about your knees hurting, you wanted this.” You jokingly say as he bends his knees once more, a playful lilt in his eyes.

Once you lathered the shampoo enough, you began. 

You’ve seen multiple couples on screen shower together and had once wondered how it’d felt having someone to help reach the spots you couldn’t as well as do those domestic things such as brushing your teeth together and just washing each other in general. The actors always made them natural and romantic, with the soft lighting bouncing off their skin and their laughter ringing in the small space.

But showering with Jimin is anything you’ve ever thought of.

Against the other members, Jimin is easily dwarfed by them, matched with the constant jokes about his height, it's easy to forget that the man is still taller than the average man. He towered over you, his eyes intense and lit with a playful sultriness. His lips twisted into a mischievous smirk as he bent his knees low enough where you could touch the top of his head without risking a stiff neck or standing on your tiptoes.

He’s peering up at you yet you feel smaller under his gaze.

He had always done this, getting into your face while you retouched his makeup. In a way, it was nice that you’re slowly regaining the normalcy 

But it's not appreciated when he’s doing it when you’re already fighting demons trying so hard not to ogle at his body and explode from how flustered you are.

“Are you seriously getting flushed now noona? We’ve done this plenty of times already, why now?”

Is he seriously asking you that?

He laughed. Your thoughts must’ve reflected on your face.

“Didn’t know you’d be affected by something as normal as this. Don’t you see us naked at least every other day?” He asks with a quirk to his eyebrow and you narrowed your eyes further at him.

“You know damn well why,” You say, slapping his shoulder before turning to open the shower once more. Laughing when the water burst open above him, cutting him off from replying.

With the tension dissolving with the shampoo on his hair, a playful grin replaced the coy smirk and with his newly washed hair, he grabbed your arms in an iron grip and began to shake his head at you, flicking water from his hair and onto you.

When he was done, he then pulled you into the stream with a bubbling laugh as he watched the shampoo suds dissolve with the water. But with both your arms pinned in place, you weren't able to wipe your eyes and had them closed the moment he had you under the shower head.

“I'm—I’m going to put chili in your fucking water, I can't see!”

With sorrys in between fits of giggles, Jimin reached up to wipe your face for you when he realized this.

Shower with Jimin sailed smoothly from that point on. After his teasing, he made no more attempts to fluster you, even when he was scrubbing your back a little longer than it should've taken. 

He had, however, made comments on how many steps there are for you to shower.

“Why do you need to shampoo twice, use soap AND body wash? It’s not like you’d ever get sick anymore when I’m here.”

You just rolled your eyes and told him to leave if he’s going to complain about your routine. Eventually though, you speed through your routine due to him whining about how he’s starting to feel cold, lightheaded—to which he dramatized by leaning his hurting head on your shoulder—, and is suddenly sleepy.

Changing into your pajamas was a little hard as you attempted to do it all under the safety of a towel while also maintaining skinship with Jimin every other ten seconds who's also doing the same.

You managed somehow and soon enough, you both situated yourselves into the bed, with your legs thrown over his and backreading the bangtan gc that had awakened the moment Jimin had his phone.

Surprisingly, even Jungkook was active.

           [21:24] Mimi: It's so weird tae            [21:24] Mimi: I’ve never seen someone use soap AND body wash THEN washes their hair t w i c e            [21:24] Hoba: I do that…            [21:25] Mimi: That’s expected hyung, you’re a neat freak.            [21:25] You: Why are you so weird about me being clean?!            [21:26] Mimi: ITS PSYCHOPATH BEHAVIOR            [21:26] Jinnie: hoba I think he just called you a psychopath            [21:26] Hoba: 🙁            [21:27] Ggukie: NOW YOU MADE HYUNG SAD            [21:27] Hoba: 🙁            [21:27] Hoba: you think im weird jimin-ah?🙁            [21:27] Yoongs: why is this even a conversation            [21:27] Joonie: Jimin just because you don’t do it, doesn’t mean it's unorthodox.            [21:28] Minnie: you’re one of them, are you hyung?!            [21:28] Tete: I still cant believe Jimin just showered with noona…            [21:28] Tete: why are we breezing through that information?            [21:28] Jinnie: ok so lets not talk about that            [21:29] Jinnie: what do you want for breakfast, beautiful?

Reading his message felt like cold water dousing you awake and you’re suddenly attacked by a wave of guilt.

Is it okay for you to even make demands like this? Do you even deserve being Seokjin’s dearest?

“Ask him for waffles, I'm craving for them.” Jimin says, his voice slicing through your thoughts and you turn back to your phone.

           [21:29] Ggukie: ask me too hyung!            [21:29] Jinnie: alright I’ll bite            [21:29] Jinnie: what do you want brat?            [21:30] Ggukie: noona’s love :DD

You watched as Jin’s profile pic pop up and came down multiple times, and each time they do, your and Jimin’s giggles multiply.

           [21:32] Jinnie: I’m blocking you            [21:32] Joonie: I should have you kicked out for that stupid, corny ass joke oh my god            [21:32] Yoongs: that activated my fight or flight            [21:32] Yoongs: don’t do that again            [21:32] Ggukie: hyung ask me again            [21:32] Ggukie: promise I’ll respond properly this time :]            [21:33] Jinnie: Y/N?            [21:33] Ggukie: HYUNG            [21:33] Minnie: she says she wants waffles :>            [21:33] Jinnie: I don’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth, Park Jimin            [21:34] Minnie: D:            [21:34] You: I want scrambled eggs and pancakes :D

“Betrayal!”

“You shouldn’t have played around earlier then.” 

“You shouldn’t have played around earlier then. Give me that!” You stretch your arm away from him but Jimin was faster, managing to pluck your phone from your grasp and moving to place it on his side of the floor.

Without hesitation, you launched yourself at his hand making him yelp before it dissolved into giggles when you managed to catch him and had curled up around his arm, fingers attempting to pry him away from your phone.

It was how Tae had found you both in and immediately lept in, taking your side the moment he had seen you and Jimin tussled for your phone. 

With Tae’s help, you were able to take back your phone only to see that it had locked itself from the many times the screen had picked up on both you and Jimin’s palms and had typed in the wrong combination after the other. For that, you slapped his arm.

“What did I do wrong?! It’s not my fault the stupid phone couldn’t differentiate between palm and fingers!”

“If I wasn’t required to touch you, I’d have you kicked out of this room.”

Jimin pushed himself up, face incredulous. “This is literally my room.”

“Next week you should sleep in my room instead, noona. I’d love to have you there.” Taehyung says, pulling you to his chest and side-eyeing his friend. “I wouldn’t be as mean as Jiminie.”

“Why am I getting disrespected in my own room? Is it gang up on Jimin day?!”

“When is it not gang up on Jimin day?”

“Why you—GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”

TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud @bri602 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @marvel-potter-1d-korea @comingupwithacoolnameishard @sooha-neul @juju-227592 @coffeewanderer @x-uno @diamonddia-mond @eggsysstuff @dearmyfavoritepeople-bts @sld88 @katsukis1wife

[bluegiragi]

I hate to ask this cause it feels stupid but I dont wanna do a bunch of research on whatever the recent cod mw fandom discourse is,

but I saw the reblog of someone accusing you of supporting people who write sexualized pedophilia and that really is personally my only """"moral"""" with nsfw shit, (I'm a patreon subscriber and ig I just wanna know where my money's going) is THAT true?

i used to follow an artist who, 5-6 months ago made racist art featuring gaz and soap in a slave context, which I didn't like, retweet or interact with in any way. they also made under-age art of ghost soap, which I also didn't interact with . people on twitter called me out yesterday, for retweeting (months before this incident) other art they'd made as evidence I stood by/encouraged/was an avid fan of all these tropes. The art I retweeted wasn't either of these previous examples of art, but one where ghost and soap were sleeping in a bed together, as adults, peacefully. I can't emphasise enough that I have not interacted with this artist at all, for over six months. The callout in question has framed me as a close friend of theirs when, in truth, our total timeline of interactions could probably be counted on one hand, and I haven't interacted with her in so long that I genuinely forgot I was still following her.

The crux of all is this is that I did not unfollow + block this artist earlier on when the racist art was posted months ago, and then I retweeted a fic tagged with "non-con" (ghost gets soap off in a context where he can't really properly consent, they're in front of a crowd of strangers and they have to fuck, but both parties are into each other) written by a friend as I wanted to support their writing.

The pedophile claims are because I retweeted a fandom bingo post that defended loli-con without reading all the squares properly, and then immediately un-retweeted it when I properly read it. All in all, the post was on my account for maybe a few minutes.

The zoophile claims are because people say i support someone who wrote zoophilic fic and called people slurs, and I genuinely don't know who they're talking about there.

The anti-asian racism claims come from the original accusers in the callout thread thinking that I made Horangi's eyes in the monster!AU sensitive as a way of making fun of Asian eyes. The real reason is because he's a cat hybrid in that AU and cats are sensitive to light.

I tried addressing all this in a casual way earlier on in a misguided attempt to sort things out more 'civilly', and responded to an ask talking about my "support" for the artist who drew the slave Gaz art by saying the fanart in question was tone deaf and in poor taste. It wasn't enough for some people, so I'm happy to say it clearly- yes, it was racist, and the reason why I didn't want to be more aggressive is because I didn't want to extend all this mess by throwing this artist directly to the wolves - I genuinely believed them at the time when they said that wasn't that their intention, and think they should've deleted the post at the time, but not unfollowing was a decision that I made. I know now upon reflection that it was naive of me, unwarranted and frankly irresponsible to take a stranger at face value and believe they had good intentions, when the act of not deleting the post in question was evidence of a lack in remorse. In the moment, I'd thought back to my own personal experience with a friend of mine who used an asian slur in my company, who later sincerely apologised and legitimately cleaned up his act after I gave him a second chance. It informed my choice to not unfollow at the time, but there's a difference between someone you know irl for months and a stranger on the internet you've interacted with a few times. I shouldn't have coddled them in my response, and I'm sorry for not treating it with the severity it deserved. It was callous, and stupid, and indicative of internal biases that I ever thought it was a light enough offence to "see through", and I deeply deeply apologise. I promise from the bottom of my heart to do better.

That's everything so far. I didn't unfollow an artist when I absolutely should've, which i'll always strongly regret. I also retweeted a properly-tagged fic on my clearly 18+ nsfw account. I've undone both of those actions now. I hope this can be the end of it.

[thatwritterbeach]

one messed up bat .6

Dc masterlist

batfam x reader x jason

Summary: a relapse, some comforting words and breakfast that doesn't go to plan

Warnings: sa, talk of assault, self harm, self hate, semi-comfort, dissociation kind of a long episode, self harm during said episode, mention of vomit vague, anxiety attack, panic, blood, eating disorder (none, restrictive or compulsive, meal tracking)

A/N: I do not own dc boo hoo

It was their fault really. I mean they were supposed to be watching her, Jason was supposed to be sharing a bed with her. It's hardly her fault that upon waking up alone from one of the worst nightmares she'd ever had her first thought was an old comfortable habit. And that my dear friend is how she found herself curled up on the bathroom floor, the door locked, and a pocket knife she didn't remember stashing clutched in a shaky hand. She should call for help, should put in the minimal effort of simply sending an sos text. Two words, sos bathroom, not that hard. Certainly easier than standing and walking through the halls in search of somebody. She figured a few of them were out on patrol and had hoped at least Jason would be home, but she knew he could only be cooped up for so long and he probably assumed one of the others would stay with her. Maybe they expected Damian to keep her company. No matter, there wasn't anybody here and if she didn't do something she was gonna pass out from a panic attack so oh well.

"Just one," she promised herself quietly before fumbling to get her pants off while she was still sitting. (hard to write angsty y'all with why'd you only call me when you're high playing)

Blade clean and legs clean and the floor not so clean and breathes coming so fast she was shaking she slashed once at her inner thigh, high up enough all her shorts would cover it. The relief was a flood, all consuming and as beautiful as crashing waves to the point it brought her to tears. She'd missed it, missed the rush, and the high, and calm.

Yeah one wasn't gonna cut it, pun intended.

Guilt was tickling the back of her hazy mind but she could worry about that later. Finally after fifteen or so shallow cuts she was cool as a cucumber. There was hardly any blood, all of them barely bubbling up from her careful and light pressure. She stood up to clean herself off and nearly fell back down when someone knocked.

"Hey, you alive in there. My shift," came Dick's voice.

"Just a sec." Well crap.

"Sorry I'm late, Jay didn't tell me he wasn't here until like twenty minutes ago and I have no idea how long he's been gone but I was out and-"

"It's fine Dickie, I'm not gonna blow up or nothin'."

"Don't joke."

She opened the door after cleaning up her mess with a quick eye roll where he could see then she was showing him her arms and the tops on her thighs with and easily forced bored expression.

"What about your ribs?"

Another eyroll while she held up her shirt.

"Wanna see more ya gotta buy me dinner."

"Eww, don't joke like that I'm your brother."

"I gotta be uncomfy you gotta be," she said with a shrug and slid past him to get her bed.

"So dramatic," he said flopping himself down on the mattress.

"Looks who's talking," she snarked grabbing the throw blanket at the end to toss over him.

"No cuddles," he said with a pout.

"Had a bad dream, don't feel all that cuddly."

"Sorry."

"Didn't know you were sand man," she snorted climbing under the covers putting a good amount of space between them.

"I got promoted, or demoted depending on how you look at it."

"Demoted," she agreed laying down and facing away from him. He lasted all of two minutes before she heard him shift and just knew she wasn't gonna like it.

"We used to talk," he said softly.

"Dick don't-"

"I know I've slacked off, ok, I moved away and stopped checking in, and then I only heard from you once a month and I tried even less with Tim. And I went back through and you were the one to start the conversation, every time, and I feel like shit about that, I know that's on me. Then you tried to reach out for help and I was an ass." He scrubbed a hand down his face and through his hair and she knew has was consciously stopping himself from hugging her, he was touchy person.

"Is there a point to this?'

"Before I was an ass, back when we talked once a week why didn't you tell me. I would have helped, would have let you move in or convinced B you needed your own place or-"

"Dick, I've been doing this for so long I stopped caring about getting better. I only called you because...pinkie swear you won't repeat this," she said holding her arm behind her in the general direction of his. His pinkie found hers in seconds.

"Being, benched, grounded if you will...it made me feel small, like a kid being scolded for touching a hot stove or... I don't know but it was jarring and I forgot that I was an adult. And I just remember us being so close when I was younger, and you always gave the best hugs, and I kept thinking...maybe if I told you, you could fix it, my big brother. I knew you were upset about what happened but you've never held onto anything too long and I thought you'd be cooled off. Sorry." His hand enveloped hers.

"I'm such a bitch." She snorted.

"Not gonna argue with that."

"I know nothing I say is gonna make it better. I was criminally neglectful-"

"You're not my parent."

"No, but I am your big brother and I shouldn't have snapped at you. You should feel like you can always talk to me, always. Even if you got a hangnail and wanna complain about it-"

"Not doing that."

"You should! You should snap me or dm me or hell send me an email with a picture of your nail with the caption 'this bitch' and I should respond with a 'yeah can't believe that what a ho' and we should be able to have easy fun and flowing conversation again. But you should also feel ok bringing me the heavier stuff. You should know that if you sent me an sos I would be there. Or if you have a nightmare," he gave her hand a pointed squeeze," you should be able to call me and we can talk until the sun comes up and hate ourselves for the drousyness the next day-"

"Dick I'm not calling you for a -"

"You should! Damnit You're my little sister and I love you. I shouldn't have, fuck I shouldn't have let you go so long without making you know you could turn to me. I know it's tense between me and B but that has nothing to do with you or the others. If you need, if you or Tim or the others," he amended," need me to come to the manor I will. If you need to come stay the night or an ice cream run or a fucking pen you call me, text me, send a carrier pigeon." He was getting louder with each sentence and she half expecting him to start yelling and shaking her shoulders. She'll blame the nostalgia of having her brother there for what comes out of her mouth.

"I relapsed," she said simply, quietly.

"I'm proud of you for telling me." No lecture, no demanding to see them, just acceptance for who she was and where she was at. It made her throat tight.

"Say sike right now," she joked, finally rolling over to look at him. The soft smile on his face hardly visible in the dark but it made her insides churn. She didn't deserve it damnit. She didn't deserve his dismissal over the years but she couldn't handle him like this.

"Did you clean them?"

"No," she admitted trying to take her hand back from his but he used it to pull her towards him instead. His arms were like chains, she knew from experience, there was no escaping a Grayson hugtm.

"Are they deep?"

"No."

"then we can handle it later, or Jay can, or Tim, or Alfred, or whoever you want to. Hell you can clean them and I'll take your word for it."

"Why," she asked into his chest.

"What do you mean?"

"I've been keeping secrets for years and am notably a good liar so why?"

"Because you are a good liar, you could have easily kept your relapse to yourself, but you didn't. It would be ideal to know before you try something but I'm proud of you for being honest after the fact," he said before she felt a slight pressure on her scalp and if she felt a few tears she wasn't gonna bring it up.

___

When she woke up a green eyed Jason was watching her from the floor where he sat with his chin on the mattress.

"Do you need to punch something," she asked pointing to her own eyes. he blinked the pit fueled haze left. "You're getting better at that. 'M proud."

"Need me to hit him," he asked using his eyes to gesture to Dick who was passed out sideways on the bed his arms wrapped around her waist and his head on the bed next to her. It looked like he was gonna have a neck ache and she couldn't remember him getting into the position but oh well not her problem.

"Neh, we were up kinda late talking, just help me escape."

"Anytime princess." He grabbed a pillow to ease under Dick's arm over her stomach and pried up so she could roll out before Dick clamped down onto the pillow and let out a sigh.

"M up."

"Well why didn't you let go, I've had to pee for like an hour," she hissed at his flicking his shoulder.

"You coulda' said 'at."

"Yeah whatever, for my ailment I require at least two pancakes and," she paused to tap her chin even though only Jay could see," you get to hold the apple when I next throw knives circus boy."

"Nope, no knives nice try though," Jason tisked at her tossing her over his shoulder and walking the few steps to her bathroom. He plunked her down on the floor, pecked her on the nose and promptly closed the door in her face. The shock had her blinking at the wood before she shrugged and handled her business. She could hear them talking but not what was being said and they weren't beating down the door yet so she opted to clean and bandage her cuts. They weren't bad and had no risk of infection, she wasn't stupid, so she just used and alcohol wipe and slapped a large bandaid on the area then used a sports wrap for good measure before sliding her (Jason's) boxers back on and washing her hands. There was no longer talking in the other room. She opened the door and pumped some lotion onto her dry hands, she hated touching door handles with anything on her hands, and headed into the room while she rubbed the lemon scented lovelyness in.

"So, my pancakes," she asked with a head tilt and a few toe taps. Both men were on the bed and looked at her with slightly unequal fondness. Jason with heart eyes and Dick with older brother love. Jason made grabby hands at her.

"Hugs first," he demanded with a pout," Dickibird had you all night." She rolled her eyes but allowed herself to be pulled down onto his leg his arms coming around her and his face getting buried into her neck. He sniffed before pulling her hand up to his face and inhaling deeply.

"Weirdo, it's just lemon," she chided but didn't take her hand back.

"Smells like sugar."

"Dick tell your brother to stop sniffing me."

"Uh uh, nope, he's your responsibility now, remember to feed and water him," Dick said hopping off the bed and ditching.

"That true," she asked Jay carding her free hand through his hair," or can you feed and water yourself." The tone was light with an underlying seriousness. He could have gotten hurt on patrol of wherever the hell he had gone and he wouldn't ever tell her, the hypocrite.

"Might need some water every once in a while," he said softly.

"Need some now?"

"Yeah," he said on a sigh.

"Where?"

"Ma shoulder." She hummed and gently rolled the sleeve of his t-shirt up to examine his left. Nothing. On to the right and yep there was brushing.

"D'ya pop it back in?"

"Didn' pop out, just hit a wall too hard swingin'."

Not taking his word for it she gently poked and prodded to be sure and was sickened when he didn't so much as shudder in pain. She crossed her fingers it was the pit healing and he hadn't taken too much of something. Satisfied it was only really bad bruising she gave the area a kiss and rolled his sleeve back down.

"All better," he said with a smile. And so was born the code water, not the best but it was more an inside joke than anything.

"I uh, got my own water but you can check if you want," she said tapping her own thigh.

"Dickie check 'em?"

"No, said he trusted me to clean them."

"Good 'nough for me."

"Are you using your accent more on purpose?"

"Why, don't like it?"

"Love it," she said getting a fist full of his hair to guide his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and slow even with her fingers tangled in his scalp and his own on her back and hip. The dreamy eyed look he gave her when she ran out of air had her stomach rolling with guilt from her relapse and she dropped her head to his chest unable to maintain eye contact.

"Can I have my pancakes now?" It was a small request, one she didn't even truly mean but he saw it for what it was, she wanted out of her room on her terms, not dragged out and forced to socialize against her will.

"Yeah, 'm sure Dick told Alf." He went to stand with her in his arms but she squeaked and wiggled to floor before he could.

"Your shoulder," she tisked at him gently, opting to hold his hand instead and lead him out of the room.

"Yes mom."

"Want me to bend you over my knee," she asked looking at him with the most innocent eyes. He shuddered and she smirked.

"None of that for a long time," he said bumping his hip into her.

"Thanks," she said bumping him back. She could tease all day but they'd already agreed to wait, she got sick just thinking about taking her clothes off for someone and he said that was fine. Of course her brain didn't believe that. the dude lied and went off to kill the joker without her. She knew he's had...relations, since coming back from the dead. Knew he was familiar with his body and how to use it in a way she envied. She wasn't blind, he was hot, pitfire hot, and he was a drug lord and he frequented bars and she really shouldn't have been surprised the first time she saw him leave with girl way prettier than her, and it shouldn't have hurt the second time. The third sent her sprinting for a place to empty her stomach and she couldn't eat for two days after, picturing the girls trim waist and ignoring her own which was well muscled and she would have loved on anyone but herself. The fourth time she watched him take a girl home she laid into her flesh with a blade like she hadn't in years and-

"-oll, sweetheart, babydoll, honeypumpkin, Y/n!" Oh that was Jason.

"Huh," she asked dumbly her eyes unfocused and breathing painful now that she thought about it.

"Deep breath, we got pancaked to eat," he demanded holding her hand to his chest and taking overly dramatic breaths. She blinked at him and realized with complete and all consuming self hatred they were in the kitchen and their were too many eyes on her and she was too hot and her skin itched and her eyes burned and head hurt and she needed out. Out of her own skin and away from them and-

"-p, stop, please be careful." It was Jason again that much she knew, but she wasn't sure what he wanted her to stop doing, she was just scratching her arms in panic and...oh, she realized her fingers felt cool and a glance down showed blood.

"Huh," she mummbled again, still blinking too fast, or was it too slow?

He was holding both her hands to his chest again and she could feel the rise and fall it felt the same as he own so she couldn't understand why he was talking about deep breaths. She was breathing which she apparently said out loud because a reply came from behind her.

"No you're not, kid come on in and out." The new voice pulled her back tight against a firm chest and the smell of lavender made her head hurt more. Dick.

"C'n't, m head. Sm'l, s'too strong," the last word the clearest as she forced it past her aching lungs and huh guess she wasn't breathing. He vision swam as Dick was replaced with someone not wearing too much lavender hair gel but this someone was shorter. Her height ish but the chest was still firm and the arms around her toned.

"You're gonna pass out." Oh, that was Tim.

"T'm?"

"Yep, that's me I'm here, come on you nerd just breathe, if you pass out I'm eating every pancake and waffle."

Right pancakes. She could smell them now, along with different versions of sugary syrup and fruit. She focused on the smell of fake strawberries, and pictured the red syrup-nope, nope, nothing red, that makes her vision swim more. Blueberries, she could think of blueberries, not her favorite syrup flavor but doable, if Damian didn't eat it all, he loved his fruit. She hoped he wasn't here to see this. The smells got stronger as she was moved further into the room and she tried to reach for the bottles she could see to her left. She was in Bruce's lap, she realized Jason crouched in front of her and her wrists still in his grasp. Damnit, she wanted the syrup. She wanted her pancakes. At least she could see them now, her vision returning and ears not ringing as loud. Her chest hurt but she was taking easier breathes and she looked around to get her bearings. Dick was on the other side of the kitchen washing his hair out in the sink while Alfred helped. She was still sitting in Bruce's lap, Tim was gently wiping her forearms, Jason was sitting now, still holding her hands but less from. Damian was crying two seats over, and-wait, Damian was crying two seats over!

"Dami," she croaked clearing her throat to try again. "Dami, I'm ok now, promise." She knew she looked like shit and it made the statement all but useless. He ran from the room followed quickly by Alfred. Dick took the seat next to her.

"That sucked," she said head drooping onto her adopted father's shoulder against her will. She was still pissed at him, but she was so tired.

"What triggered it," Jason asked with concealed panic. Right she'd probably made him blame himself. And given him a heart attack. She didn't answer just closed her eyes and took gloriously easy breathes.

"Sorry, I forgot you don't like lavender," Dick said. He had a dish towel around his shoulders catching the water droplets from his sink bath.

"Gives me a headache,' she supplied giving him a thumbs up.

"I'll toss it."

She gave another less stable thumbs up and forced herself to sit up straight.

"Can I have my pancakes now?" They all jumped to say no, afraid she might not keep them down but Bruce beat them to it readjusting her like she was still a kid and fed her from his plate. He got syrup on her shirt, just a drop, but she hated being dirty in her pj's and her hands clenched and un-clenched nervously at her side making the next few bites hard to swallow. Half a pancake later she felt human, aside from the syrup drop taunting her, the other had moved away to their seats to taking slow bites of their own food. Jason looked like hell and she knew she couldn't explain why she'd had her freak out.

"Has this happened before," Bruce asked, eating after she'd shook her head at another bite.

"I don't think so, but it could have. Sometimes I space out, but it's never lasted so long. Never in the field," she was quick to say.

"What brought it on," Jason tried again, and the look in his made the pancakes roll in the stomach.

"Can I have some water," she asked in reply. He looked torn, but grabbed a bottle from the fridge and set it in front of his chair. She tilted her head at him but he ignored the look and took her from Bruce to have in his own lap. She flinched when he sat and her mind started up again calling her overweight, saying she would hurt his leg. He held her to one side and grabbed the water before she could reach for it. She took it from him and tried to twist the cap, but her hands weren't working yet, the girl strength in her fingers gone. She grew frustrated the longer she tried. Her jaw ticked and she was seconds from throwing it in a fit when Jason took pity and opened it, going so far as to hold it to her lips. Her family treating her like a child and passing her around the table was pissing her off but she didn't fight him and took slow sips until he seemed pleased and set it on the table. She didn't dare pick it up, she'd probably spill it.

She fished her phone out of Jason's pocket where she knew it to be so she could check the time but he snatched it back before she could even push the button.

"Hey," she grumbled. He slid it to Dick who pocketed the device.

"Not till you talk, what made you-"

"Freak out like a weirdo?"

"Have a physical reaction to a mental problem you need help with." She snorted at his phrasing. She was fading into sleep again, the sugar keeping her lucid this long, but she fought to keep her eyes open and on his.

"Wanna tell me and not these losers," Tim asked over his cup of coffee. "It's decaf," he lied when she squinted at the mug.

"I...think I wanna talk to Alfred," she said gently, testing the waters.

"Ok, that's ok, s'long as you talk to somebody," Jason said grabbing one of her hands where she'd started to pick her cuticles.

"But not till he's done with Damian, poor kid shouldn't have to keep seeing what a fuck up I am."

"Don't say that," Bruce chided.

"The kid found me in a pink tub."

"Which is fucked, I'll agree but it made us pay attention to something we should have seen long ago. Some detectives we are," Dick said still shoving his face with pancakes. She wondered not for the first time where he put it, dude was fit, and ate like a horse. She couldn't so much as smell sugar without feeling it go to her waist.

"How do you do that," she said then smacked her free hand over her mouth. Oops, that was an inside thought, guess a tired y/n is an honest one.

"Do what," he asked, tilting his head like the massive puppy he is. Jason gently pried her hand down.

"Eat so much and not get fat?"

"So much. Kid I've done the calculations, with what I burn nearly every night I eat perfectly if not under what I should." His head tilted the other way, stupid puppy eyes.

"But..." She couldn't think of a way to phrase it to make them understand, stupid men and their stupid better metabolism.

"Sweetheart, how many calories do you eat in a day?"

"Two-thousand-one-hundred. Ten carbs, no less than a hundred grams of protein, and whatever fiber is in my protein shake," she said automatically. She didn't have a problem, she ate fine, she ate just right for her job. She was careful. Didn't stop the voices in her head from shouting every time she passed a mirror though.

"That's...specific," Dick said with uncertainty.

"Do you keep a journal," Bruce asked clearing plates.

"A feeling journal, no."

"I meant a food journal."

"Oh, yeah, nothing weird about that plenty of people have one," she jumped to defend herself. She was so tired and they just wouldn't let her be, she wanted to curl into her boyfriend, heh boyfriend, and sleep for days. Distantly she knew that wasn't a good thought.

"Yes they do, and there's nothing wrong with it just wondered if you would mind sharing it."

"No," she said without hesitation.

"We just wanna make sure you're ok," Tim said gently.

"I just wanna go to sleep. I'm tired from my freak out, please can I take a nap in the library or something," she whined using her own puppy eyes on Jason. He sighed and finished his coffee like a shot then eased her off his lap to stand.

'Want me to carry you," Dick asked, knowing about his brothers bruised shoulder.

"I've been tossed around like a toddler enough for now, thank you."

10-16-24

@stormz369

[james-is-here]

This is for the Anon that wanted Seonghwa angst. I made it it's own post since the ask was so long but here it is. FYI, to any other Anon's, I openly welcome emoji anons. :)

Blogs: @demtttt couldn't tag you :/ @belladonna6-6-6

Tags: angst, Seonghwa speaks before thinking, talk of car crash, not much else i can think of.

"You're what?" "I'm sorry, Mn, I just-" "You're leaving me to go across the country? I-I can't live without you, Hwa." "Mn, you're sounding clingy, you can live without me."

You stared at Seonghwa, wide eyes slowly filling with tears as you stood from the swing set, standing in front of him. Your childhood park was empty and broken down, not really used anymore but the still standing swing set was where you and Seonghwa had most of your small dates and where you first met Seonghwa. "Take it back." "What?" "Take it back, you know how i feel about being called that, take it back." "You are though." "But you know that's how I show affection, it's not clinginess. How could you call your boyfriend clingy?" "About that..."

Inside he really didn't want to but he had to. He felt like he'd be kicked as a trainee if anyone found out. "About what?" You look at his eyes that are brimming with tears and watch as he removes a bracelet from his wrist. "N-No, Hwa, what are you-" It was the bracelet you made for him when you both started dating, a couples bracelet you called it instead of a friendship bracelet. It had beads with your nickname spelled out on it and yours had 'Hwa' on it.

"I-I think it's best if-" "Don't you dare break up with me." "It was hard enough facing our parents, I don't want anyone at the company to find out." "You're ashamed of me." "No, No, Not you-" "You said we'd be together forever, Hwa! Now your backing out just cause you're embarrassed that someone will find out that your gay?! That you have a boyfriend?!" "Mn, just listen-" "No, I see where I stand..." You take off your bracelet, snatching the other from Seonghwa's hand before pulling your arm back. "Mn, wait!" He wasn't quick enough to catch them as you threw them into the forest next to the park.

"Enjoy your life in Seoul." With that you run out of the park, shoving the low gate open as Seonghwa called out to you, one hand wiping your tears before you run down the street. "Mn!" He walked out the park a second later but you were gone.

A few days later, he was in Seoul, beginning his training and in his free time he tried to reach out to you but you never replied or he got a 'Message Not Sent' when ever he texted you. You blocked him, he realized. He really messed up and he can't even fix it.

He sulked as he closed the car door. He had just come back from his friends house which greeted him with a for sale sign, a red *SOLD* sticker made his chest feel tight. He was hoping he'd be able to apologize to you for what he did and how things ended. If he had to tell the truth, he'd say he still loves you.

He barely got to the door when his mom opened the door. "Seonghwa! Oh, honey, welcome home." "Hey, mom." "Well you don't seem very happy for debuting as a K-Pop Idol. What's wrong?" She steps to the side and lets him in, giving him a hug before bringing him to the dining room.

"What's wrong?" "I really wanted to apologize to Mn and tell him that all the dancing was worth it." "Mn? Ln Mn? Oh, hon, the Ln family moved out." "What?" He face fell as he stared at his mom. "Yeah...Actually, it was sold a week ago, they moved a month ago. Mrs. Ln told me they were moving to Shanghai because her mother-in-law's health was declining and they moved to help her father-in-law who's mobility wasn't the greatest." "They moved to China...." "Yeah. I'm so sorry Hwa..."

He felt so bad for what he did about halfway into his training. He regretted everything he said to you and he missed your hugs, your kisses, your gentle touch. How could he ever say you were clingy, what he did was unfair but it was already too late.

"I heard he visited the old dance club. Even until his last moment he was here he spent it dancing." "It's a good thing he's still dancing." "Yeah. Now come on, seemed like you needed a talk." "Where you taking me?" "Appa's out back. He doesn't know your here, silly." "Oh, right."

Years later, Seonghwa was rushing around backstage, running in and out of every room trying to find Wooyoung. He was told the boy was going to the bathroom but never found him.

They were at Music Bank for an award ceremony and there was a lot of idols there but there was one he just happened to bump into during his search and one he very much wasn't expecting at a k-pop event.

"I'm so sorry." "It's okay, are you looking for someone?" "I am-" Seonghwa pauses when he sees their face. "Oh my god, Mn!" He smiles widely, hugging the male and not even noticing the others confused expression. "I'm sorry."

"U-Um...S-Sunbaenim? You know me?" Seonghwa pulls back completely shocked. "W-What?" "I-I mean i-it's really an honor to meet you, Sunbaenim, I really admire you and I'm kind of nervous now knowing that you know me." "N-No, you- Don't you remember me?" "I only know that you're apart of Ateez. I really look up to you guys, I think you guys are so cool." "What...Sunbeam-" "Sunbeam? Oh! You saw my movie too!! You know my characters nickname, Oh my gosh, that's so cool." You gush, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Seonghwa refused to realize that you truly didn't know him. He felt like he was floating aimlessly in space and his head started to hurt. "You don't know me..." "I do know you-" "No, me. W-We were childhood best friends, we...we were each others firsts..." "O-Oh, I-I don't...I don't remember any of my childhood, I'm sorry. I-I only know your from Ateez." You then see the smiling face of who you would say your best friend is waving you over. "I'm sorry, Sunbaenim, I-I have to go." He watches you walk away, crashing into a tight hug and laughing with your best friend, Felix.

"Hey, you looking for me? Sorry, got caught up talking to..." Wooyoung notices the far off look on Seonghwa's face and follows his gaze, watching as Hyunjin comes up to the both of you, giving you a hug and then whisking the both of you elsewhere.

"Hyung? What's wrong? Did Mn say something bad to you?" The male inhales shakily, his chest tight as he clenches his jaw to stop a sob from escaping. "Hyung, woah, what's wrong?" Wooyoung was suddenly directly in front of him when he heard a small whimper.

"Th-That was Mn...m-my friend from Jinju..." "Oh, your first boyfriend, right?" "Y-Yeah, h-he doesn't remember me..." "Well, there's may be a reason. Maybe your parents know?" "Uh, right, maybe...maybe they still talk to his his parents."

He pulled out his phone and Wooyoung stayed with him the whole time. When his mom answered the phone, he was greeted by a different voice. "Hello, Mrs. Park is unavailable at the moment, this is Mrs. Ln, can I take a message?" "Mrs. Ln?" "Um, yes, who's this?" "I-It's Seonghwa, ma'am." "Oh! How are you?" "U-Um, I-I'm currently at an award ceremony but-" "Oh, Mn is there too. It's so amazing that he's gotten to this point and he hasn't been doing it for long." "About Mn..."

He hears her sigh on the other end before speaking. "You ran into him, didn't you." "Yeah..." "Um, when we were in China with his grandparents...we were driving one day to go see his grandmother in the hospital and...we were being his grandfather along as well. Everything was just perfect until...well, some hot head sped a red light. We were already in the intersection and..." He voice choked up and Seonghwa told her to go at her pace. "It crashed into my father-in-law and Mn's side of the car. They were going 90 and..." She takes a deep breath before she says something else. "It's your son. Telling him about Mn." She must've been talking to his mom.

"They were going 90 and...I don't mean to dampen your mood but Mn wouldn't be at that ceremony today if it wasn't for the amazing team that fought to keep him alive." "What...Ma'am, what was the last thing he remembered?" "Oh...he couldn't remember anything before...before you left. I mean he remembered the dance club and barely any of his school life but...he only remembered his family. I'm sorry, Seonghwa, but he couldn't remember you."

He inhales sharply, staring ahead as he processes the information, now processing the scar that traveled from above his eyebrow to his upper lip. "The scar..." He whispered to himself. "Yeah, I'm glad that he embraces it. If he didn't, he wouldn't have followed his dreams." With a shaky breath he exhales. "Tha-Thank you, Mrs. Ln." "You're welcome, dear. Good luck, okay?" He hung up, his arm dropping to his side.

"Hyung?" "He...He got in a car accident...h-he lost a lot of memories he...he forgot me..." "Oh..." Wooyoung moved to wrap his arms around Seonghwa who was stock still. He wanted to apologize, to take him back but what can he do now?

He knows everything about you but how can he start over when you don't remember him? He doesn't know what to do, he feels stuck.

Wooyoung took him back to their seat where he almost remained motionless. He looked calm and seemed to be enjoying the different groups but inside he felt almost crushed.

He lost his Sunbeam and now his world feels dark.

[mylovelies-docx]

Sorry, I Love You - Part 10

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!?! I'm finally posting Part 10 after an unplanned/unexpected hiatus?

Yes. I am. Sorry for the long wait!

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Angst, HYDRA experimentation, mentions of death. (Dear sweet Hyunjin in the gif below also a CW for myself and other Stays)

Word Count: 3,075

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

[Prologue][Part 1][Part 2][Part 3][Part 4][Part 5][Part 6][Part 7][Part 8][Part 9]

You hear Bucky’s key rattle in the front door and the soft snick as it closes downstairs. You’d arrived at your shared home only minutes ago, but that was plenty of time for you to race upstairs, lock your door, and start bawling into the pillow. You hiccup and choke, suffocating the sounds into the cotton fabric clenched between your teeth. 

Why?! Why did Bucky have to go and say that shit? As much as you had hoped and begged the universe for Bucky to say those words to you earlier this year, it responds to your pleas now?! You’ve spent months resigning yourself to having him as a friend only – that’s what he said he wanted! 

Why would he change his mind? Is it because he’s had a change of heart? Doubtful. Bucky was very certain in his decision to shut you down and out of his life. So what? Is it because you’re hanging out with Petre? Is he jealous? How? Why?

Bucky’s actions towards you tonight make no sense. Why would he say something that he knew would upset you? And if he didn’t think they’d upset you, what’d he expect? That you’d run and leap into his arms, no more words needed? Why the hell would he think that’s what would happen? He can’t just act like he didn’t completely eviscerate your heart that night in the alley and that morning in the kitchen. 

Those days are burned into your memory, not a day goes by that you don’t remember the way your words affected him and his response. He was so betrayed and angry that he lashed out at you for admitting that you wanted more than the no-strings-attached, friends-with-benefits situation that you had. 

But now – now! – he wants to say you could be together? Together in what way? As fuck-buddies again? Hell no. There’s no way that you will ever put yourself through that pain and hardship again. Not for him, not for anybody. You want something real. 

You’d wanted something real with Bucky, but he’d shot you down as soon as you’d brought it up.

Bucky’s footsteps shuffle from the front door and up the stairs, stopping just outside your door. You hold your breath but continue to flinch as your lungs spasm on unuttered cries.

A soft rap sounds at your door and Bucky murmurs your name softly into the doorjamb. You squeeze your eyes shut and keep your voice as calm and level as possible, but it still cracks when you say his name. “Leave me alone, Bucky.”

“Doll, I –”

“I don’t want to hear it!” You respond vehemently, chucking your wet pillow at the door. It smacks against the wood with a thwump and lands in a sad heap on the floor. It looks just like how you feel. “Just go away.”

You can hear Bucky suck in a shaky breath, but you refuse to picture his watery eyes and quivering lip. He has a right to feel like shit, but you are under no obligation to try and assuage his guilt when he’s the one that caused this whole mess.

His bare feet tread across the hallway and into his bedroom, his bedroom door barely making any sound as he closes it behind him. His shower starts up a few seconds later and stays on for nearly an hour. After that, his bed creaks and there’s not another sound to be heard.

You don’t sleep that night.

***

“I need to leave.”

“What?” Nat hisses through the phone. It may be 4 am here, but the team is having dinner together right now back in New York. Nat’s whispering voice is her attempt at keeping this conversation between the two of you while she walks away from the dining room to talk. You can hear her boot-clad leg thunk, thunk, thunk its way across the hardwood floors as she finds privacy.

“I need to get away from Bucky,” you explain further.

“What did that fucker do this time?” Nat questions menacingly, already gearing up to kick Bucky’s ass with no information.

You heave a sigh and watch your breath fog in the air, the cloud hanging heavy in front of your face before slowly dissipating in the humid, cold air. “He… he said something about us. As in, him and I. Like we could go back to how we were.” You bite your chapped lips and worry the dry pieces of skin with your teeth. “I didn’t handle it very well.”

Nat is silent for a long moment, the other end of the line buzzing over the long distance. Finally, she says, “He said he wanted to be friends with benefits again?”

“Well not exactly,” you hedge. “He got all weird and jealous when I was hanging out with Petre last night like I always do. We got into a fight and he said that it could be us sneaking off together like we used to and I just… I lost it.” You hurriedly wipe an oncoming tear out of your eye, surprised you’re even hydrated enough to produce anything after last night’s sob fest. You suck in a shaky breath and continue. “Nat, I can’t do it again. I can’t.”

“I know, honey,” Nat consoles, her voice soft as she shushes you. “I won’t let you do that to yourself again, either. You know I’m here for you – and so is the rest of the team.” You make a questioning noise at that last part and Nat explains. “Well… the whole team kind of knows why you left.”

“...they do?” You press the palm not holding your phone against your forehead, pushing hard to focus on anything but the embarrassment the situation makes you feel. You chuckle humorlessly and say, “Everybody must think I’m pathetic now.”

“We absolutely do not,” Nat states defensively. “Wanda and I were giving him so much shit after you left and no one knew why – Bucky eventually had to tell everyone after I nearly put him in a coma when he finally found the guts to spar with me.”

You do crack a genuine smile and laugh at that. “You’re telling me Wanda was mean to him?”

“Well, I mean,” Nat laughs as well, “she didn’t put smiley faces on his pancakes when she made everybody breakfast. Trust me when I say everyone noticed her displeasure with him.”

You feel the overwhelming urge to wrap Nat and Wanda up in hugs that are long overdue. The love for your friends overflows from your heart and manifests in your words: “I love you guys so much.” It’s no substitute for the hugs you want to give, but it’s all you can offer at the moment.

“We love you, too,” Nat replies. You’re both quiet for a moment, you soaking in the silence of the frozen outdoors and Nat chewing on the question you can practically hear filling her mouth and pushing against her lips.

You sigh heavily. “Out with it, Nat.”

She sucks in a breath before starting. “You know I’m always on your side…”

“Uh-huh.”

“...but are you sure that’s what Bucky meant?” she finishes.

“Huh?” you question dumbly. “What else could he have meant? He accused me of going off and fucking Petre every time we left a room – TMI, but that’s exactly what Bucky and I used to do. So when Bucky said we could be like that, I don’t see how he could have meant anything else.”

You hear a smack from Nat’s side of the line and a grumbled ‘stupid motherfucker…’ before she composes herself and resumes the conversation. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

“Not particularly,” you respond. “I’d rather you just come and get me.”

“You know I would in a heartbeat, but this mission took a long time to set up…”

“Yeah, I know,” you sigh. “I wouldn’t actually leave over this, but it’s just nice to know that you’d come and get me if I asked.”

“Always,” she says. 

You and Nat chat for a little longer before you end the call, citing your need to head into ‘work’ soon. You hang up, feeling better for having spoken with your best friend. 

Your improved mood lets you ponder on what Nat was trying to get at about Bucky’s intentions. Does she know something you don’t? The answer is likely yes, her being who she is and all. But if she has reason to doubt your interpretation of Bucky’s actions last night, don’t you owe it to yourself to find out for sure?

Mind made up, you send a short text to Bucky. 

Can we talk?

A few seconds pass as you type out a follow-up message, but you’re interrupted by Bucky’s text.

You’re not here. Where are you?

You smile at the realization that Bucky had to have sprinted to your room, saw your empty bed, and then searched the entire house in record time before sending his text.

Your stomach fills with anticipatory nervousness, but you remind yourself that you’ve already gone through hell without Bucky once, so if there’s something in the way of being in each other’s lives you need to clear it up.

I’m getting an early start at work. I’ll call you during lunch?

Please. 

***

The morning rushes by in a blur. Your tasks take you up, down, and around areas of the HYDRA facility you’ve never had access to before. You can’t be seen lingering around any certain area, but you take every opportunity to peek inside rooms and hallways when no one else is around. 

There’s one particular hallway that catches your attention – not because there’s any screaming or moaning coming from the cells along the walls, but because there is a steady beep, beep, beeping coming from multiple heart rate monitors. 

You’re unable to investigate since a scientist with dark hair stands at one of the open cells at the end of the hall. His clipboard hangs down at his side as his other hand rests on the doorjamb as he watches whatever is happening inside. He’s too far away for you to get a good look at him, but his height and build seem… familiar. You stare for long seconds as he continues to linger, wracking your brain for how you recognize him, but footsteps down your hallway cause the man to startle and scurry away in the opposite direction.

The person who scared the man away rounds the corner towards you. You recognize them as the scientist that had sent you down here in the first place. Quickening your pace, you rush over to them.

“Hello, sir. Here are the materials you requested.”

“Yes, quite,” the man says as he takes the samples from your hands. 

He riffles through the sealed bags and paper work, a concentrated look on his face. You stand politely next to him, your hands folded in front of you while you wait for a dismissal.

“Argh!” the scientist exclaims in anger. “That absolute buffoon! She can’t even label correctly.” He looks up and pins you with a cold stare. “You. Go collect the bloodwork – and do it correctly!” 

He shoves a piece of paper with the subject’s ID number and location into your chest. You reach up quickly to catch it and bow your head in deference. “Yes, sir. Right away.”

He storms off, stomping his way to presumably berate the poor technician who collected the samples the first time. 

You sigh, glancing down at your phone. It’s well-past lunchtime and you need to call Bucky, but this task needs to be completed first. You’ll call Bucky soon and hopefully he’ll apologize and clear everything up. The anxiety from this morning returns and causes your stomach to tighten and a lump to form in your throat.

It’s okay, you tell yourself. He’s been trying to apologize since it happened. If he confesses the reason behind why he got weirdly jealous last night, you will tell him that he has no reason to be – that there hasn’t been anyone for him to be jealous over. Especially not a civilian during an undercover mission. 

Would that be too much? Would he think that if you haven’t been with anyone since you left that you’re still hung up on him? Even though you told him you’d never actually loved him (a massive, bald-faced lie), would he still accept your words at face value even when your actions contradict them?

Why did he say all that last night? 

If he doesn’t want to have any kind of intimacy with you, why’d he suggest being friends with benefits again? Did he suggest being friends with benefits again? It certainly seemed like that was what he was implying, but Nat’s words from this morning makes you doubt your assumption. 

If he wasn’t talking about reverting back to your situationship that you both clearly regretted – for different reasons – then what?

Ugh, you sigh. This is too much. You’ll figure it out when you call him.

You find the medical supply closet and collect the needles, tourniquets, vials, and labels necessary for the samples. Looking down the list, you see that the location is actually the hallway you were interested in earlier. Gathering your supplies onto a cart, you head out.

***

You’ve collected two of the samples when you run into Olaf, the contact you last spoke with when you first arrived. You had just left Subject #268’s room and nearly ran right into the man.

“Oh, hello,” you greet sincerely before registering the wild look in his eyes and his bloodless face. “What’s wrong?”

Olaf shoves you back into the room and looks around frantically. “I need to go,” he states, frightened. “I need to leave and I have to take my family with me.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you murmur, setting your hand on his shoulder. “Deep breaths.” You show him an exaggerated inhale and exhale, staring into his eyes and trying to calm him down. “Tell me what’s going on.”

The breathing exercise does nothing for him. Olaf grabs your hand and squeezes hard. “They know.”

“They know?” you question. “Who knows what?”

“They know that I contacted the Avengers!” He nearly shouts. You shush him with your other hand over his mouth, but he rips it away and continues. “They know I brought you here and that we’re trying to shut this place down.”

“Hold up,” you plead. Your heart races in your chest at the implications. “Why do you say that?”

“I heard them!” he rasps. “I heard them discussing the ‘rats in the organization’ and that they’re finally ready to get rid of them.”

“And you think that’s us? Why?”

“Why else would they mention my name and the Avengers in the same sentence moments later?!” Tears leak down Olaf’s face and his breaths heave in and out of his chest.

“Okay. Okay,” you say, a million thoughts and plans running through your mind. “Get out of here. Go get your family and run – it doesn’t matter if you look suspicious since they’re already aware of the situation.”

Olaf nods his head rapidly and starts to back out of the door and into the hall. “What about you?” he questions weakly.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say. “I’ll wrap things up here. Just go!”

He nods again and turns to run down the hall, but stops dead in his tracks. A horrible, gut-wrenching feeling invades you. You step out into the hallway and find…

“Petre?” you whisper.

Petre stands there, with his dark hair and clipboard – he’s the one you saw in this hallway earlier. Your brain short-circuits while trying to put all the information together. 

You hear Olar whimper behind you. You turn your head and mutter quickly: “Go.” Olaf bolts down the hallway and out of sight.

You turn back to face Petre, his eyes wide and breathing heavy.

“What are you doing here?” you ask him. “How much did you just hear?”

Petre hesitates for a moment before responding. “Enough.”

“Petre,” your voice is hard. “What are you doing here?”

“They…” his lip quivers. “They have my sister.”

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. “They have Sasha? I thought she was just sick?”

“She is,” he says. “They said that they’re the only ones who can cure her, so my parents… we agreed to their treatment plan. But then they started asking for more and more things – things mother and father weren’t comfortable with. But they said we have to comply if we want Sasha to get better – so I came here at their demand.”

You suck in a deep breath. Something about Petre’s broken, dejected demeanor sends a wave of foreboding through you. “Grab Sasha and run, Petre. You know who I am now. I can help you.”

Petre shakes his head sadly. “She’ll die.”

“No. No, Dr. Cho can figure out what’s wrong – she can help Sasha.” But Petre’s head continues to shake.

“They give her something everyday, something that will kill her if she doesn’t receive her next dose at the correct time. I… I’m sorry. I have to protect my sister.”

A tear slips down Petre’s cheek as he begins to back away from you.

“Petre, please,” you beg. “Give me five minutes.”

“I can’t,” he whispers, and takes off.

You curse and start running. The only thing you can do is get to the control room and wreak havoc. You thunder through the hallways of the compound, dodging scientists and slamming and locking the doors that separate different wings from each other. 

The lights shut off. A loud, blaring siren rings through the facility and emergency lights flash red. On, off. On, off. Your eyes try to adjust to the darkness, then are assaulted by the light only fractions of a second later – the strobing effect causing the scene to look like stop-motion animation. 

You recognize the area you’re in, realizing that the control room is only a few doors away. Shouting and the clambering of combat boots to your left catches your attention. A whole host of agents run towards you, weapons drawn. 

You put on a burst of speed, grabbing the control room door jamb and swinging inside. You close the door and drag a desk to barricade it – it won’t hold for long, but it’s better than nothing. You turn to find several men rising from their desks, startled looks on their faces.

Grimacing, you begin the arduous task of taking lives.

Tag list: @jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshine @happinessinthebeing @nash-dara @calwitch @stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283 @terry2227

Part 11

[abrcmswrld]

Treacherous | Mike Schmidt x Reader

Summary: Reader and Mike have been best friends since childhood. After a fight, Reader is given a surprise visit.

Warnings: General Angst, General Fluff, a suggestive make out scene in the nude but nothing too crazy, mentions of feminine clothing in one part but overall gender neutral

Author's Note: IM EDITING THIS RN SO PLEASE JUST IGNORE THE MISTAKES AND LIKE DUMB STUFF This is my first fic for Mike so bear with me! I tried so hard to adhere to the movie timeline but if it seems shaky please just ignore it lmao. I'm also bad at pacing sorry. I’d love to make this a series cause I’m in love with a good friends to lovers trope.

Mike had always been a bit of a mess. All of the time that you've known him, this has never changed. You can recall times on the playground of boys calling him names for his sensitivities. How were they to know the gravity of his situation? How were you to know? But you always felt called to stand up for him either way.

So you'd hound them off. You'd grab his hand and pull him off the dirt and to a quiet corner of the playground. The two of you would sit on the wooden border, picking at the grass and watching the other kids play.

His sensitivities would quickly turn to a certain hardness that you'd never fully come to understand, even in your late twenties. He'd open up the tiniest bit in high school, after his mother had passed away. He was only 17 years old. You were still children.

You have memories of standing uncomfortably in the dress your mother had insisted you wear to the funeral. You didn't know how to approach him then. He sat alone in a chair on the far side of the funeral home, a blank expression on his face. You couldn't say a word as you took tiny footsteps towards him. And he didn't say a word either, just looked up with bloodshot eyes. You'd hugged him then, feeling his shoulders shakes against you.

Soon it was time for the two of you to start thinking about college and your lives outside of the scope of small town high school. Talks of plans to find something new and excited were quickly stomped out by the failures of his father. You can recall a 23 year old Mike begging for your company on late nights when his father's drinking had reached a climax.

And you'd gladly show up for him. Abby was only six by that time, and Mike was all she had. Mike spoke about his father with disdain to you. Never crying the way he had as child, but you could see a sad anger within the conversations. And really, you couldn't blame him.

You can remember a night on the roof of your childhood home. It wasn’t your first time sneaking Mike through the window of your bedroom. It was a cold December night, and you were home for the holidays.

“I don’t think my dad’s coming back.”

Your knees were pulled up and under your chin as you rest your head and listened to his worries. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “I mean, he hasn’t been back for three days and I think this might finally be it.”

You furrowed your brows and met his gaze.

“I’ll move back here.”

In that moment he had begged you not to. You were so close to finishing your degree and he insisted that he could not be the reason you didn’t finish. So you heeded to his wishes. You finished your final semester.

In the 6 months that you were gone after that night, his dad had not returned. Mike had stepped up to be a guardian for his sister. Family court would later assure this in legal documentation.

You had hugged him tightly the first night you were home and assured him that you would be there, for the both of them.

━━━

You would prove that to him when his original babysitter had ghosted him.

“Probably got tired of not being paid.” He had said when you asked why.

You don’t ask for pay. You had a day job that kept you stable enough to live. And as Mike’s hours were night shift, there was really no problem with the arrangement.

It would go on for a few weeks. You hadn’t seen pay, but you didn’t mind. Mike would cook you breakfast when he got home. That was payment enough for you.

But you could notice he wasn’t doing well. Dark circles had formed under his eyes. He had confided in you about the actions of his Aunt Jane. He showed you the papers with bold letters proclaiming a request for a change of custody. His stress and worry made sense to you now.

He would have to prove he was fit, a big ask in a court setting, especially for someone like Mike. You had encouraged him the best you could.

But everything had come to a head on a night when Mike had intended to actually pay you.

He woke you from your light sleep on his couch, alerting you that he was home. He sat his tired body on the recliner.

“There’s a 20 dollar bill in my jacket pocket.”

His eyes are closed as he speaks. It seems the night has been a rough one for him. “You don’t have to, but thank you.” You find the jacket lying on the kitchen table. You feel slightly bad as you reach your hand in to find the bill, but your guilt falls into confusion as your fingers brush the tiny bottle inside.

You let your eyes travel over the orange bottle in your hands. You furrow your brows. You turn to face the recliner he sits in.

"Mike."

He turns his head to face you, tired eyes falling on yours. He sees the bottle in your hands and you can see a sense of uncertainty and dread fall across his features.

"What are these? Sleeping pills?"

He immediately tenses, as if he had been avoiding this topic with everyone. But he responds quietly, “Yes.”

You fall silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. Realistically, there was nothing wrong with sleeping pills. People use them all of the time to sleep. But Mike seems hesitant to cover the topic of these pills and why he uses them.

An additional concern comes up in the way he had stuffed them in his jacket pocket. Why was he taking them to work? You hate the way your thoughts sound like the micromanagement of a mother, but all you can see is the bright yellow of the custody papers and Abby’s sweet face in your mind.

“Have you been taking these at work?”

He’s silent. It’s enough of an answer for you. You sigh as you sit the bottle down on the kitchen counter. You’ve known he wasn’t well. The incident that had gotten him fired from his last job, the dark circles under his eyes, the hardness about him, it all worried you. But you had always chose to let him live. Let him make his mistakes.

“Mike, talk to me. What’s going on with you?”

He lets out a spiteful scoff as if the conversation is beneath his worries at the moment. He lets out a shaky sigh. “I feel connected to him there. I don’t know why, but I do.”

There’s no doubt in your mind who he is referring to. His baby brother. The one he couldn’t save. You let him continue.

“If I can put myself into the right state of mind, I can see it. I can watch it over and over. And if I try hard enough maybe I might see who took him.”

He voice drifts off to a quiet and weak tone, “That’s all that matters to me.”

You can tell he’s hurt by the way that his voice comes out strained and weak, and it hurts you too. It’s not as if you couldn’t understand the pain of the situation. He’d cried to you all those years back when it first occurred. What you can’t understand is how he could let it ruin his relationship with Abby. Abby who is alive and well. Abby who, even if discreet, sees Mike as the moon and stars.

“And what about that little girl who sits around and draws you all day long?”

It makes you feel like a bitch to even say such a thing to him, but if it gives him a shake maybe it’d be worth it. “What about her?”

He stands still as a statue, emotions shifting across his face as he processes the words you’ve shot at him. You’re sure they strike like a bullet. His mouth opens and closes again, so you speak again.

“I know how badly you want to bring him back, Mike. To bring him back and be able to pretend none of that ever happened.”

He furrows his brows and you can the see the hurt flood his expression.

“But you’re going to lose them both if you don’t get your shit together.”

You sigh. You hate the way you sound like a mother scolding a child. You take a shaky breath. “Do you think that this job is really good for you? I mean-“ He cuts you off with a scoff and a laugh.

His tense attitude has you uncomfortable and defensive. You hate the way your voice becomes strained as you speak. “I just think it’s taking a toll on you.”

“I need this job, otherwise I’m never gonna see her again.”

And of course you know that. He needs a job to look good for a court that’s supposed to be able to decide if he’s right to take care of his sister. But what good does a job do on paper if the court can clearly see the way his mental stability is shaky? He hesitates and meets your eyes with a tense look as he speaks,

“You’re here to babysit Abby, not me.”

You stand silently in front of him for a moment before grabbing your coat. You turn toward him. You can see the quirk of regret on his expression, but he doesn’t speak, doesn’t take it back.

“It’s gonna take more than a shitty job that drives you crazy to keep her. I think you should find somebody else to babysit Abby.”

There’s malice in your tone and you hate it. But you can’t make excuses for him. You ignore his voice as he says your name quietly. You just let the door close behind you a you walk to your car. You wait for the door to open again behind your back. It doesn’t.

He doesn’t text you either. In fact, you don’t hear from him for another week and you wonder if he’s already replaced you and plans on holding the grudge.

You assume he must have. He must have found another babysitter for Abby. It seemed he was saving money to actually pay whoever took that role.

You can’t stop yourself from becoming more and more sad as the week goes on. You find yourself worrying more and more about Mike. And Abby. There’s no doubt in your mind that Jane was still adamant on proving in court that Mike was an unfit guardian.

You don’t know why you feel as though your presence could somehow remedy that. You don’t know why you feel an ache so deep in your heart. Friendship breakups are common. But Mike was different.

You still don’t let yourself text him. You would give him the power to choose that route. To choose you and the friendship you had given him since you were both children. And by the end of the week you have to force yourself to sleep.

And by the end of the week you get what you had secretly hoped for.

━━━

The knock on your door is urgent. You're half asleep as you rise out of the comfort of your bed. Your feet press against the cold floor as you rush to see who it could be. As you glance through the peephole you're met with those familiar black curls.

You open the door swiftly, shivering at the cool breeze that flows in. He looks like hell. Abby stands at his side. You're stunned, "Oh my God." You open the door wider and usher the two of them in.

Abby seems to be physically uninjured, while Mike's face is bloodied and bruised. You whisper to Mike,

"What the hell happened?"

He looks to Abby before he answers. "Abby should get some rest while we talk." You nod immediately. "Of course. She can sleep in my bed while I patch you up."

You lead the young girl to the bed and ensure she's tucked in. She thanks you quietly before you leave the room. You grab some first aid supplies from the bathroom cabinet on your way back.

"Sit."

You point Mike in the direction of the couch. He winces as you wipe the open cuts with alcohol wipes. You raise an eyebrow, “ You look like hell, Mike.” He scoffs in response.

“So you gonna tell me who did this to you, or am I just gonna have to keep wondering?”

Mike hesitates. You stop your movements to look at him with concern. He shakes his head, “You’re gonna think I’m crazy.” You sigh,

“Mike, I know you. Just tell me.”

And so he does. He explains everything down to the little details he can remember. It sounds crazy, it absolutely does. But you can’t bring yourself to think he’s faking it.

“I know it sounds crazy, but I know what I saw. She knows what she saw.” He points in the direction of the room Abby was soundly sleeping in.

“I believe you.”

He closes his eyes and exhales a large breath. You continue to clean the cuts along his face and head. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches.” He nods. There’s still an awkward tension between the two of you. He’s upset with himself for letting you leave the way you had, and you’re ashamed of yourself for letting him push you away. You break the silence at the same time,

“You know-“

“I’m sorry-“

You can’t help but laugh a little, and he smiles weakly back at you.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too.” You continue.

He shrugs. “You were just looking out for me. I understand that now.” It means a lot coming from Mike. He’s stubborn, not usually one to admit when he’s wrong. It makes the moment all the more sincere. You smile slightly, letting a hand brush his cheek where a bruise is blossoming under the skin.

“I wouldn’t have said what I did if I didn’t care about you.”

He nods slowly and leans his cheek into your caress. You can feel the warmth of his hand as he lets it fall to your hip. His voice falls to a whisper.

“I care about you too.”

You smile and swipe a thumb over his bottom lip, where the plush skin has split from impact and smeared blood across his pale chin. He groans as he leans up, it’s only then that you notice the large gash on his side.

He attempts to stand, hobbling on his injured leg. “Mike,” He turns toward your bedroom, ready to grab Abby and get out of your hair. When he turns his back, you can see the blood seeping through his shirt and the large tear across his back. You grab his hand,

“Mike.”

He faces you again, letting a quick glance fall to your now connected hands. “Let her sleep, she’s alright. Let me help you.”

He stands awkwardly in front of your bathroom counter. His muscles flex with each touch of your fingers around his wounds, his fingers gripping the counter until his knuckles are white.

“I think it’d be best if you took this off.”

You’re awkwardly fiddling with the hem of his long sleeve shirt. He meets your gaze in the mirror and you feel small. Your voice is nearly a whisper, “I- I just can’t see.”

You stare at the floor as he pulls the shirt over his head. The gash is messy, but not deep enough to require stitches. Regardless, it’s covered in a thick layer of blood and sweat. You usher him to turn, and you see that the cut on his side is not better.

He can see the way your eyebrows screw together. “Is it that bad?” His voice has a touch of dread hidden in its tone. “I mean,” You glance at him.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but you need to clean them or they’re gonna get infected.”

He swallows and nods. You walk to the shower, turning the knobs and adjusting the water to an appropriate and comfortable temperature. You clear your throat, “Here. I’ll, uh, I’ll let you…do your thing.”

You turn on your heels to give him privacy. As soon as your fingers touch the metallic surface of the doorknob, his hand catches your free hand, pulling gently. You turn toward him, meeting his eye. He pulls you closer and carefully pulls you into an embrace. You’re worried you’ll catch his wounds with your hands so you let them hover above his skin, not actually touching. But you want to.

You can feel his breath on your neck where he’s buried his face. He speaks into the sensitive skin, “Thank you. I don’t thank you enough.” That’s the moment you finally let your hands rest on his skin.

“You don’t have to thank me, Mike. I do it because I care about you.” You gently brush your fingers across his upper back, avoiding his cut. “Besides, you’d do it for me.”

He pulls himself from your neck, and you drop your hands from his back gently, expecting him to pull out of the embrace. But he stays close to you and only pulls back enough to see your face. Your cheeks are so hot. You can feel it and you know he can probably see it. He keeps his hands at your sides, just above your hips in a way that feels respectful. You allow yourself to put your hands on his forearms, thumbs resting in the bend of his elbows.

“Your water is gonna get cold.”

It’s a whisper as it comes out. He simply nods but doesn’t drop his hands from your sides. You smile shyly at him.

“Come with me.”

Your face is instantly hot and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the steam that’s building in the room and around the two of you. With your eyes wide and your mouth opening but no words coming out, he looks at you with hesitation, like he can’t believe the words actually left his mouth.

You can see the fear building on his expression the longer the silence drags on. Thoughts are racing through your head. You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought of this. You loved him. There’d always been a flutter in your stomach and a heat in your cheeks that let you know that perhaps it could be more than a friendship. You want that. But is this really how it’s going to happen?

You imagine the two of you going from childhood friends to becoming well acquainted with each other’s bodies in the span of one stressful night after not speaking for nearly a week. But there are no alarm bells going off in your head. You can’t bring yourself to feel ashamed.

So you kiss him. With his arms still around you and the heat from his bare chest creating a sense of protection from everything. With the whirl of water hitting the tub filling your ears. With the image of Abby sleeping soundly in your bedroom in your mind.

When you pull away, he looks at you with a sense of longing you’ve not seen on him before. You don’t want to say a word, not right now. It’ll be complicated. You know it will be. And you’ll have to have that conversation eventually, but right now the only thing you want is the heat of the water and the silk of his skin against yours.

So you finally unwrap yourself from him to begin working the buttons on your shirt. You’ve turned your brain off momentarily. Your fingers are on autopilot as they remove each article of clothing. If you allowed yourself to think, you’d surely turn in on yourself from the shame.

But when you’re finally bare and displayed in front of him, he doesn’t speak. He only looks with a fondness in his eyes that goes beyond a lustful stare. He slowly works his pants off his injured figure, wincing in the process, and soon he’s just as bare as you.

You’re shaking and cursing yourself internally for doing so. God, why were you shaking? You know he notices as he reaches his hand out to touch your arm lightly, grounding you in reality, and speaks, “Are you okay?”

You nod. More than okay.

The water feels heavenly as it beats against the skin of your back. Mike hobbles into the shower after you. He’s hesitant as you usher him to switch with you. It’s gonna hurt, but it’s necessary.

Your fingers lightly brush the wound on his back. He'd already been wincing slightly from the sting of the water, but your touch has him tensing immediately. You grab a cloth and dampen it enough to be effective in cleaning the general blood and grime from the afflicted wound.

The moment your cloth cover hand touches the  wound, he cries out through closed teeth, "Fucking- fuck!" His hands are planted against the shower wall in front of him. He bites his lip, holding in the whimpers of pain, trying his hardest not to wake Abby.

"Shh. It's okay, Mikey."

You let a gentle hand fall to his non injured side, brushing his skin. You're trying to sooth his tense and pained form as much as possible.

Soon enough you have both gashes cleaned up and ready to be bandaged. Mike turns to face you in the shower. His face still has a slight touch of discomfort to it, but he smiles weakly at you.

“Thank you.”

You smile back and nod. You’ve hardly said a word outside of attempting to sooth his pain with sweet words. The cold is starting to seep in from the tiny crack in the shower curtain. You can feel tiny goosebumps beginning to form on your skin. He frowns slightly and breaks the silence again.

“Did I cross a line…with this?”

Your head is already shaking before you can even comprehend the question. Like your body knows the answer before your mind does. “No, Mike.” He hesitates in his response, standing still and quiet before stepping towards you.

He seems to be able to move around a little better. You’re not sure if it’s the water cleaning the previously irritated wounds or if it’s the adrenaline pumping through his body. Either way you’re thankful as his hands are grabbing at your face and pulling you into another kiss.

It’s sloppier than the previous kiss you had shared, and he’s pushed you back so far that your back is hitting the cold tile of the shower wall. A fog has taken over your mind as you reach around his shoulders, digging your fingers into the plush muscle of his back.

The feeling of his tongue swiping into your mouth has sent you entirely mad. You’re whining slightly at the feeling and your eyes are half lidded. You can’t even think of the fact that this is your childhood best friend kissing you. Making you shudder. You can’t find it in you to care, you want him.

“Mikey…”

It’s a whispered moan as you let your head fall back against the tile, exposing the delicate skin of your neck to his wandering mouth.

Despite his injured form, his hands are tight around you. You'd thought of this before, in the heat of the night alone in your high school bedroom, hormones taking over completely.

You'd imagined the strong grip of his hands and the contrast of his plush lips. The bite of white teeth and soothing warmth of the hot water.

It’s absolutely divine, you think. He is divine. You know you’ll have dark bruises on your neck from the way he bites. You can’t help but run a hand through the hair on the back of his head and tug slightly. The moan is elicits rumbles through your neck and you want more.

You’re absolutely drunk off of the feeling of his body being this close to yours, nearly intertwined. You don’t even think when your nails swipe the cut on his back. That is until he lets out a yelp in the crook of your neck and promptly jump back.

You’re wide eyed immediately, realizing what you’d just done.

“I’m- I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Mike.”

You can still see the remnants of a wince on his face but he laughs. And you find yourself letting out a nervous laugh with him. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

You laugh again, holding the palm of your head to your forehead.

“We should probably get out. It’s getting cold.”

You nod.

━━━

You manage to sneak past Abby’s sleeping figure long enough to grab old clothes from your room. You find yourself thanking the universe than Abby is a heavy sleeper.

You’re also thankful that you hadn’t given Mike back an old t-shirt that he had left in your home years ago. He smiles at you when you hand it to him. He puts it on and examines the familiar print on the front.

“You’ve been holding this one hostage, huh?”

You gently nudge his shoulder and let out a chuckle. “Shut up.”

You’ve layered blankets in the middle of your living room floor. You speak as you lay pillows down on the makeshift palette. “Abby is sleeping peacefully, I’m not letting you drive home tonight, and there’s no way I’m letting you sleep on my tiny couch.”

You point exaggeratedly at the “bed” you’ve created for the two of you. “Ta-da.” You let yourself fall back onto the layers of pillows and blankets. It’s surprisingly cushioned. You sigh. “Actually not that bad, Mikey.”

He watches you with a smile from his seat on your couch. “You’ve really out done yourself.” He slides off the couch and into the layers of blankets and pillows next to you. He turns to rest on his uninjured side, facing you. It’s dark in the room, but you’ve left one lamp on. You can see his features glow under the warm light. You brush a hand on his cheek lightly.

“I’m glad you didn’t die tonight, Mike.”

He snickers, but you’re serious. The thought of his face on the news, just another tragedy at Freddy’s, haunts you. “I’m serious.”

He simply stares at you. “You’re not gonna go back there, right?” He closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna take care of her. I can’t keep a job.”

Your thumb brushes at his cheek, soothing his tension. “I’ll help you. When have I ever left you alone in this?” You shiver as you think of the only time you’d walked out on him after that heated argument. You push the thought away and close your eyes.

“Really love you, Mike. You’re my best friend.”

You open your eyes hesitantly and you can see the shine of moisture in his. “Love you too.”

You place a kiss on his lips. It’s chaste, but full of a deep warmth. It leaves you wondering what comes next.

You tuck yourself in close to him.

“Goodnight, Mike.”

[sosa2imagines]

I had my dance and now I'm where I belong. Part 2

----------------------------------------------------- Warnings- Angst, cheating and little bit of fluff ----------------------------------------------------- Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 -----------------------------------------------------

After you left the tower, you checked into a hotel and once you enter the room you called Nat who along with Wanda and Sam were waiting for your call. When you were done with the call loneliness crept in slowly you started to freak out and the emotions you were hiding since the confrontation till now all came out, you dropped to the floor and cried your heart out. After a week you got the news the happy couple made it official how one cheater got another cheater you told your reflection in the mirror smiling for a bit then crying again. It was true what you told yourself Bucky does not know that Sharon had cheated on Steve and that's the reason he broke up with her and you had promised him not to tell anyone. All of your dreams crushed and thrown out the widow because he couldn’t keep it in his pants. Every single day was painful the hurt was too much years of love gone just like that.

One month later. "Hello?" "Friday where is everyone?" "Captain Rogers welcome back Mr. Barnes is in his room and the others are in the common room" "Thank you Friday" Steve was nervous he knew everyone would bombard him with questions on his decision to leave and come back again but at the moment it all can wait he needed to see his love his best friend you first he wanted to tell you everything even the dance he had. So he rushed to Bucky's room knowing you would be there but god he was so wrong he wished he had knocked on the door but he didn't and because of that he was dumbfounded by the view "Bucky? Sharon? what's going what the hell why are you guys Sharon for god sake put your shirt on" Sharon roll her eyes. "Where is Y/n?, Bucky tell me dammit" Bucky was scared of what Steve's reaction would be so he went with the little white lie "We broke up I'm with Sharon now" "What? Broke up? why? you guys were so good, why did you guys break up? And Sharon no Buck you are hiding something" "Steve you have no rights to interfere in our lives they broke up deal with it" Sharon was quick to answer. "I'm not talking to you so shut up!" Steve yelled. "Don't yell Steve, she is right you left us ok you don't know what happened so accept this." Steve was shocked by Bucky's behavior he had never seen Bucky standing up for you like he was for Sharon he immediately knew something was wrong he left the couple behind and went to search others. "Where is Y/n?" "Steve?" Sam rushed to hug his friend, Nat was teary eyes seeing her bestfriend back. "Steve you are back" she hugged him as much as Steve was happy to see them and grateful for them welcoming him back he couldn't stop thinking about you. "Nat please I'm sorry if I'm sounding rude" Nat shook her head finishing his sentence for him "Y/n left for some alone time Steve, she was suffocating here" "Yeah man everyday she was dying here" "What happened after I left?" Sam and Nat told him everything Bucky did and how Tony does not fully know the truth that you hid for Steve's hard work of making him trust Bucky. Steve's heart broke even in pain you didn't think ill of Bucky. "Where is she?" "I'll give you the hotel address and don't worry we let her leave only on the condition she calls us everyday" "Thank you Nat if she calls don't tell her I'm coming to her" Nat nod at him and Steve left for you.

Your head was a mess, your emotions were all over the place you spent the nights crying asking yourself why. You did call the team daily not wanting to go back soon, you locked yourself in your hotel room trying to wrap your head around the entire situation. The love you had just went down the drain like nothing. You had your doubts but we're blinded by his love and now paying the price it's been almost a month you barely ate and slept cold showers did not felt cold. You were lost in your own world when someone knocked on the door and thank god you opened the door you were shocked eyes glossy as soon as you whispered "Steve" he was quick to hold you in his arms as you cried and fisted his shirt, when Steve saw the state you were in his heart broke. He couldn’t help but feel guilty after all he was the one to introduce you two only for you to suffer. "Why did he do this to me Steve why?" Steve kept rubbing your back to comfort you "Everything hurts Steve please make it stop take my heart out I can't take it no more Steve please help me stop this pain" Steve's heart broke completely he blamed himself if he had not left you would have not been in this situation but that does not mean he didn't learn from his mistake seeing you beg him to stop your pain Steve silently promise to protect you and heal your heart he swear he will not let anyone hurt you not even his best friend Bucky on that day Steve decided you are his and when the time is right you will know about his love but for now you needed your best friend and that's what he was going to be. After crying for hours in Steve's arms he finally managed to put you to sleep Steve's own eyes were teary he was angry at Bucky, angry at himself he was facing back and forth until his eyes fell on your personal diary he knew it was wrong but he had to know so respectfully he skipped all the parts and just saw the last few pages he was fuming in rage how dare Bucky pack your bags and tell you to leave the audacity to lie to him, he put the diary back in its place and texted Nat to come over. As soon as Nat came Steve told her to look after you and he will be back quickly. Steve for the first time broke traffic rules drove like a madman he literally ran up to were Bucky was and as soon as he saw him Steve's mind flashed your image the hurt and pain you were in the words in your diary he was fuming in rage "You bloody liar" with that Steve punched Bucky hard on the face, Bucky was shocked Steve punched him again and again calling him liar and a cheat Sharon didn't dare interfere Sam had to hold the captain back only after Sam talked about you Steve stopped but not before warning Bucky for the last time " You stay away from her and mark my words Bucky you will regret this" All Bucky could say was sorry and how he is happy with Sharon, Steve chuckled at his stupidity "one cheater got another cheater no wonder you two make quite the couple" with that Steve left a very confused Bucky alone with Sharon in the tower.

As for Steve Rogers he had his dance and now he is where he belongs that is with you and the first step towards your happiness was to shift you from the hotel to his apartment in Brooklyn time to take you home.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------(to be continued, also thank you all you guys are awesome lots of love to you all, initially it was supposed to be a one shot but it turned out into a series the next part might be last depends on how the story goes take care and feedback is appreciated 😊❤️) ----------------------------------------------------- Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

----------------------------------------------------- TAGLIST- @vicmc624 @sapphirebarnes @cjand10 -----------------------------------------------------

[ravennaortiz]

Ok Sis.... My man Hap!!! 6,8,13,17,18,30,32 with angst with happy ending. Baby Happy on the way and he freaks out at first! He would be the bestest Daddy ever!!

Alright daddy happy( get ya mind out of the gutter lol) with angst and a happy ending? I believe I can whip up some magic for ya!

Prompts

6. Are you afraid of me?

8. Your drunk. No im not

13. I promise

17. I love you

18. Go slow

30. I need you

32. Your mine

Life

Happy stared down at the pregnancy test on the table for a moment before simply walking out of the house and riding off into the night. You laughed at yourself as tears streamed down your cheeks. How could you have been so stupid to have expected any other reaction from him? You two had not been together long and what more could you expect from an outlaw biker? Tossing the test away you locked up the house and made your way to your bedroom where you collapsed into a sobbing mess.

***

A month later you were stepping out of the bathroom after your shower when a figure rose from the bed in the dark. "Shh, just me" slurred Happy as you screamed and he turned the light on. Heart pounding you just stared at him thinking your mind was playing tricks on you. "What are you doing here?" you asked as you clutched the towel around you as tight as possible with your distended belly. "Are you afraid of me?" questioned Happy his eyes boring into you as he ignored your question.

"What?" you questioned as he put his hands in his head. "I don't want you to be afraid of me" he stated sadly as he kept his gaze on the ground. "I mean breaking in unannounced is a reasonable reason for me to have been frightened but I'm not afraid of you" you replied a bit of annoyance in your voice. Who was he to want to be comforted after running away? He stood up and made his way to you the smell of alcohol made your stomach churn as you put your arms out.

"Your drunk Hap" you stated as you gagged some. Happy stumbled back slightly. "No I'm not" he pouted as he frowned at you. "Are you okay?" he asked watching you run back to the bathroom and dry heave. "I'm sensitive to odors and you reek like a brewery to me" you replied. "I'm sorry. I can shower if that is okay?' replied Happy as fought the urge to pull you into his arms.

By the time Happy had showered you were sound asleep. Watching you sleep so peacefully he kicked himself for having missed out on so much time. He moved to his kutte and retrieved the tiny black box he had bought a week ago and put it on your nightstand. He then grabbed a pillow from the bed and made himself cozy on the floor. He hadn't yet earned the right to be in your bed like he hadn't fucked up majorly. Until you invited him back the floor was good enough for him.

***

You awoke the next morning to sunlight filtering through the blinds. You stretched as you sat up and shook your head when you saw Happy asleep on the floor. Looking to your nightstand to grab your phone to check the time your eyes caught on a small black box. Your heart pounded and your breath caught in your throat as you reached for it. Opening it tears well in your eyes as you found a simple silver band with a tiny heart shaped diamond set in it.

You hadn't realized you were crying until Happy spoke. "Was supposed to bring you joy not tears" he stated as he looked up at you. "Its beautiful" you murmured as you turned your eyes to him. I promise to never leave you and to always cherish you. I love you so much and I can't live in this world if your not in it or apart of my life" stated Happy as he moved to kneel at your feet with his hands on your thighs.

"I love you too Happy" you murmured as you caressed his cheek before trying to lean forward to kiss him. Your bump stopped you making you both laugh softly. "Here" murmured Happy as he moved to the bed and kissed you deeply as he pushed you back down on the bed. You moaned as he moved his mouth to the sensitive spot on your neck where he bit down before giving it a soothing lick. "Going to go slow with you baby girl. Show you how badly I need you and make sure you know you are mine forever" he whispered as he trailed his fingers down your sides as he carefully grinded against you.

***

"Mr. Lowman, would you like to hold your little girl?" asked the nurse as she held your beautiful tiny daughter in her arms. "I'm... a little nervous" replied Happy as he chuckled and held out shaky arms. "Your going to be fine. Just tuck her close, support her head" murmured the nurse as she helped him take her.

Want more Happy? Click here

Want to make your own request? Click here

[starjaeyun]

FOOLISH ONE : you are not the exception, you will never learn your lesson !

— maybe should've listened to your friends when they warned you about hanma shuji

includes! hanma shuji x fem! reader

warnings! angst, hanma is an asshole (let's be real though, it's hanma we're talking abt 😭), obvious redflags, profanity, crying crying crying, break up

note! hello, it's me. ms. posts something then disappears. i'm sorry for ghosting u guys & my smaus 😭

"him again, huh?" to say the least, your friends were unimpressed that you came to them crying the morning after your 3rd month with Hanma.

Hina sighed, "listen, I'm all for helping them become a better person but it's been three months and I don't see any improvement in his behavior at all"

"and this isn't the first time he didn't show up to your plans. why are you even settling for the guy?" Emma says, visibly trying to control herself from throwing insults at your boyfriend, if you could even consider him that, because as much as she wants to she knows that that's not what you need right now.

"and not to mention, you've been a mess ever since that thing came into your life. just break up with him already y/n. don't settle for a guy like that, you deserve so much more" Yuzuha rubs a comforting hand against your back, "it also hurts us seeing you heartbroken because of some..guy you know"

you sobbed, "that's the thing! I don't know why I can't stop myself from seeing him, I don't even know how I ended up dating him!"

"personally, I think you're out of options. do you want me to introduce you to Mikey-nii? you haven't met him yet, right?" Emma was only half-joking, of course

"now is not the time Ems" Hina lightly slapped Emma's shoulder

after a few more minutes, you've finally calmed down, "I've decided, I'm breaking up with him"

the girls immediately engulfed you in a hug, each of them giving you their goodluck.

the break up went successfully, Hanma didn't try to stop you nor did he seem to care. and while he didn't make it hard for you to end things with him, it made it hard for you to move on and get yourself together.

you spent at least 3 months crying over him, wondering if you made the right decision, which your friends reassured you that you did.

after all your crying, you started focusing more on yourself, friends, school, and family. and your friends couldn't be any happier as they watched how fast you were improving.

but 6 months after your break up and 3 months into your improvements, Hanma Shuji somehow managed to slither his way into your life again.

"hey" your breath hitched upon hearing his voice because what the fuck is he doing outside your classroom? you ignore his presence and continue to walk down the hallway, silently wishing that he's not waiting for you, that would make you feel better.

"don't ignore me" Hanma easily caught up to your retreating figure. you continue to walk as if he wasn't walking right behind you.

and just as you step foot out of the school premises, Hanma pulls you to the nearest alleyway.

but even when it was just the two of you, you refused to look up, you refused to show him the tears building up in your eyes.

"I'm sorry" you stay silent, not looking up or moving an inch

"I was an asshole" he was yet again met by silence, "but I've been thinking about you..since we broke up and I know it's late but I've only come to realize this"

Hanma sighed, "I love—"

"don't you fucking dare!" you finally look up, tears spilling out. "but—"

"NO!" you feel the small and sharp rocks in the alleyway pierce your skin when you fell to your knees, "It's unfair, you can't just— you can't just treat me like bullshit, not give a fuck when I break up with you, and suddenly come to my life a few months later to tell me that you love me!" you sob into your hands, all your hardwork and improvements these past 6 months were immediately washed down the drain.

"I'm sorry—"

"No! fuck you and your stupid fucking apology!" you gather the remaining strength in your body to stand up and walk away

you are not the exception, you remind yourself of Emma's hurtful but truthful words

Hanma won't make a change for you. Hanma won't make you an exception.

"I'll change!" Hanma engulfs you in a back hug, "for you. I'll do everything it takes to win you back, I'll treat you better, anything..just please give me a chance"

you let out a shaky breath as Hanma turned you around, "I love you" he whispers

tears slip out once more and he cups your face to wipe them with his thumb, "I fucking hate you" he continues to wipe your seemingly never ending stream of tears

"I know..it's okay, you have every right" a kiss on your forehead was all it took to break your cracked resolve, "may I..." his face inched closer to yours and when you responded by wrapping your arms around his neck, he closed the gap.

you will never learn your lesson

© starjaeyun on tumblr | do not steal, copy, translate or repost

[kotemf]

Fox's life after the war

  Happy Fox day!

  Fox never planned for after the war.

  He's seen how two sided senators were. He's seen just how little they cared about the clones who died in their stupid war. He's learned not to be optimistic because the only way that could end was getting his hopes shattered. So no, he didn't plan for after the war. He knew how low his chances at survival were.

  When the war ended and he was still alive... It was a surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one.

  The senate would have a long time deciding what to do with clones. There were many ideas, varying from decommissioning the entire army or using them as unpaid workforce to giving them citizenship and a monthly income of credits as a thank you for their services in the war. Luckily for the clones, the Jedi felt so guilty about the whole thing they somehow made the senate give them citizenship in less than a week.

  Almost a month later, the question of the rewards for their services still wasn't clear but at least they were free. They didn't need the Republic to pay them, they could live with little and when they weren't too picky about their job, it was easy to find something. The Jedi order also provided the troopers in need with rooms in various temples and gave out food. All Fox's batchmates said it was because the Jedi were kind and charitable people. They were brainwashed, obviously. The Jedi were clearly guilty after letting clones be killed in a war that was orchestrated by the Sith lord who they just failed to notice. Like really, Palpatine wasn't even subtle, he kept Sith artifacts in his office.

  Fox, fortunately, didn't have to accept any help from the Jedi. He lived in a luxurious apartment, drove an expansive car and ordered take outs instead of the terrible meal they served in the mess. His brothers always asked him how he got so successful. There was no way he could afford that from a Coruscant Guard commander's pay, right?

  Fox never told anyone how he got credits. There were many theories of various levels of craziness. Fox's favorite was the one where he blackmailed senators for a living. Of course, there were also many rumors about him robbing a bank or secretly selling Intel and much more. None of that was right.

  The main source of Fox's income was lying on his chest, effectively preventing him from getting up. And while Fox would love to stay in bed like this, he needed to get ready for work and listen to more crazy theories about how he made money.

  "Good morning, love," he whispered as he threaded his fingers through purple hair. "Will you let me get up."

  The only response is a tired grunt.

  "I really need to get up."

  "No you don't."

  "I need to work."

  "No you don't."

  "Darling, I really-"

  "Stay."

  Fox wished he could. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered before pushing her away so he could get up. He really should stop taking morning shifts.

  "At least make me some coffee."

  "Of course, love!" He liked his post-war life.

  Yes. I skipped a day. Prompt for day 6 was force sensitive clones which isn't really something that I headcanon and I also didn't have time. Who knows, maybe I will write it sometimes in the future but for now, consider my collection for the Corrie Week 2024 complete.

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Like a roller coaster.” Daryl Dixon Imagine.

Marriages always have their ups and downs like a roller coaster. Even in the midst of an apocalypse, Daryl and you play a game until the situation gets a little out of control, but in the end, the only thing you two are sure about is that you have each other to keep living.

Based on the Beth and Daryl episode at the cabin.

Warning: Daryl being kind of a jerk, but don't be mad at him, because he's like a puppy that's been mistreated T-T I'm not trying to justify his behavior, but this is fiction and we all know Daryl's personality and insecurities. (Sorry if I didn't play this never have I ever game well, I don't know well how it works in English, and English is not my native language.)

Request are open! Hope you like this! Thank you♥

You knew Daryl long before the dead came back to life.

He was a young man working for the owner of a motorcycle repair shop: the pay was kind of bad, but good enough to get by. You were the child of a police officer, the typical sheltered (but down-to-earth) young person, just trying to make your life meaningful. Your older brother used to take you with him to get his bike repaired, and the rest of how you two met was history.

It was a good two and a half years, with a few petty arguments, and a ring hidden in the back of his drawer that he never gave you. But the day he broke up with you, he did it through his own pain, through his mistaken idea that he wasn’t enough for you, that the life he could offer you wasn’t the one you deserved, so that day, Daryl let you go. It would be a lie to say it was easy for him, because for the next 5 months, Daryl did nothing but come to see you almost every night, just to see that you got home safely from your job as a vet.

6 months later, the apocalypse began.

Daryl tried to find you, but your house was a mess, and there was no sign of you, so he and his brother left town. The day you two met again, his group had entered a pharmacy to get medicine for the people in the prison, and with your gun pointed at his head from behind, ordering him to put down his crossbow, Daryl recognized your voice after having dreamed about it every night.

Again, the rest was history.

Now, sitting in that old chair with your elbows on the table inside that dirty little cabin, the deep words of the book you had in front of you talking about marriage caught your attention as you watched the ring on your finger. The golden color remained. You two were married and everything was going well (in that new world).

“Somethin’s wrong with yer ring?” Daryl closed the door of the cabin holding a box with glass jars, and he walked to the table and set the box on top of it. “So?”

“No.” You said sincerely and looked at the box. “Tell me that’s water.”

Daryl chuckled and sat down in the chair in front of you on the other side of the table.

“No, woman. I found ‘em in the shed, they were very well hidden. Ya never heard of moonshine?”

“I only know beer.” You leaned against the back of the chair. “Does it taste just as bad?”

Daryl regarded you with malice.

“Tastes a lot worse. Wanna try it?”

“All right.” You shrugged. Daryl knew what was to come, but he still took an empty glass jar and filled it a little with that liquid that looked harmless and misleading. You took it and raised it to smell the strong sense that made your nose wrinkle in disgust. “Cheers.”

You took a sip holding your breath and the liquid slid down your tongue, your throat and finally all the way down, heating everything on the way to your stomach. You grimaced and left the glass jar on the table while you breathed again.

Daryl chuckled.

“How was it?”

The strong heat ran through your entire body making you feel a tickle in your stomach.

“It tastes awful, and I feel a strange heat in parts of my body.”

Daryl smiled slightly, rubbing his finger against his lower lip.

“Tell me if ya feel that heat in the part of your body in which I’m thinkin’ about, maybe I can help ya get rid of it.”

You laughed.

A drink of that liqueur and you already felt your cheeks red and the fire in your body. You tolerated alcohol well, kind of, but the first sip was always something shocking until your body became accustomed to it.

That’s when a funny memory popped into your mind.

“Do you want to play a game? We can use this poison as punishment.”

Daryl looked at you curiously and rested his elbows on the table.

“What kind of game?”

“Well… I say something I have never done, and if you have, you drink, and if you have not, I drink. Then we chang… What?”

His curious look didn’t change because the rules of the game made him wonder how many times you had played it. where, apparently, the liquor seemed to be mandatory.

“Ya played this many times?”

“I never liked liquor, it burns and it tastes bitter, but the game was fun in those days.” You cocked your head. “Should we play or not?”

His blue eyes held your gaze, without a particular expression on his face, but he pulled out two full jars, opened them and handed you one.

“Start.”

“Okay…” You bit your lips as you thought. “Never I have ever tried anything to make you feel attracted to me.”

Daryl chuckled.

“It wasn’t necessary. Ya got me in a second.” He drank the liquor and set it down on the table to look at you. “Never I have ever regretted marryin’ ya.”

He stared at you, cause sometimes he kept thinking that.

“Drink.” You said, pretending to be serious, but he smiled anyways. “Never I have ever had a bad allergic reaction for falling into poisonous ivy.”

“I don’t like this game.” He grunted because he was still losing, and drank from the jar. “Never I have ever kissed ma best friend in the mouth.”

“Oh, come on!” You complained. “I was 6 years old and his mom and mom made me do it.”

“Everythin’ counts, sunshine.” He chuckled. “Drink.”

You drank from the jar and grimaced.

“Never I have ever had a bad grade in elementary school.” You laughed. Daryl snorted because you used the history of his problems to learn mathematics against him, but he had to drink. “Oh, sweet revenge.”

“Be careful, woman.” He raised his eyebrows to warn of the consequences but you only shrugged. “Never I have ever fallen in love with ma high school teacher.”

You chuckled.

“I will not deny it. He was really handsome. And I hope he is still alive.” You bit your lip over the memory, but Daryl grunted because like any husband, he didn’t like you talking about other men. “Never I have ever rented a porn movie.”

Daryl licked his lip but drank.

“If we talk ‘bout sex this game will be more interestin’.”

Again, he rubbed his finger against his lip, thinking what would be the best memory among you to use it.

“Never I have ever had to wear a scarf to cover a hickey.”

“It was not a scarf.” You wrinkled your nose at him but you drank. “Never I have ever eaten animal food.”

Daryl chuckled and he drank.

“Never I have ever played Strip poker.”

Your heart beat fast suddenly, and you didn’t know if drinking was the right thing to do. You were ashamed of that memory, so ashamed you never told him about it. But he knew, your eyes as transparent as crystals were easy to read.

“What?” He frowned. “Ya undressed in front of another man, darlin’?”

You blinked at him.

“It’s not what you’re thinking. I didn’t even get to-”

“What?” He leaned forward abruptly and you saw in his eyes that he was intoxicated by the alcohol. “Ya didn’t show yer breasts to another asshole than me?”

“Daryl, no-”

But Daryl got up pushing the chair back and taking the jar.

“I’m gonna take a piss.” He walked to the door a few steps behind him. The heat of the alcohol ran down his body and he dropped the jar to remove his belt. The glass broke on the floor, and it made a sharp noise that made you startle.

“Daryl-”

“I can’t hear ya!” He cut you off. “I’m takin’ a piss!”

“Please, we have to be quiet.” You said softly.

“Or what?!”

He was an asshole when he was drunk, his words, not yours. But his immature reaction made your body fell on the back of the chair.

“It was during the time I wanted to be accepted, okay? And I just took off my sweater before I realized I was being stupid and left it.”

“Oh yeah? And what else ya almost did?” He walked back to the table as he pulled up the closure of his pants, but didn’t sit down. “I thought I married a decent princess but I see yer more than that. I’ve never played strip poker. I’ve never drove a nice car like you. I didn’t have a dad to give me everythin’ I wanted!” Daryl pushed the chair and fell with another big noise against the wood. “I didn’t have a family that gave me everything I ask for!”

Suddenly, the growl of a walker caught your attention.

“We got another guest in this game!” Daryl walked to the couch behind you, he grabbed his crossbow and pointed at you with a finger. “Ya never shot a crossbow because I always protected yer ass, but I’m gonna teach ya a lesson right now.”

Daryl walked over to you and took you by the wrist, his grip tightening around it as he pulled you back into the living room and kicked the door open. That was a lie, you and he knew it: you had protected yourself, your friends, for a time without him, thanks to the shooting lessons your grandpa gave you.

But he made you walk down the wooden steps of the cabin and you surrounded it until you met the walker coming out of the bushes. Daryl lifted his crossbow and shot it right in the chest. The arrow pierced its rotten body and slammed it into the tree, but it never stopped groaned as Daryl prepared the crossbow again.

“I’ll teach ya how to shoot, honey. It is easy. Come here.” Daryl held you from behind and put an arm around you. The other hand held the crossbow. “Take it. Just point and shoot.”

Emotions were overflowing and you tried to take it but he fired first, failing on purpose. Your heart was as tight as a fist, and as he prepared the crossbow again, you took your knife out and walked to the walker to sink it into its skull. The rotten blood spilled out of it and you walked away in disgust.

“Hey! Why the hell did ya do that?! We were just havin’ fun!”

You gasped because the air didn’t seem to reach your body, because for a moment, his irresponsibility frightened you. You turned to him as he frowned at you. Your breathing was shaken as if you had run for hours, and the heat on your cheeks due to the alcohol intensified because of the frustration you felt.

“Don’t do anything like that again, Daryl.” You sounded firm even though you were breathing deeply. “What the hell is wrong with you? Playing with them is not fun. Risking your life is not fun either.”

“Don’t ya like this game?” Daryl approached you. “Ya like strip poker and I like to play with ‘em. What’s the problem?”

You opened your mouth to speak, to say something cold and cruel that would only make things worse. But you weren’t like that, and neither was he. His personality was explosive but he wasn’t negligent with your life or his.

“What is your problem?” You asked in a calm voice, totally opposite to the euphoria caused by the screams. “Daryl… you’re not like that. And honestly, you’re scaring me right now.”

It was then that he realized the fear in your eyes, for the first time in his life. He would never hurt you, he would die first.

“Don’t. Don’t do that…” He shook his head, walking slowly back to walk away. “Don’t ya dare to use those damn angel eyes with me! Ya like to do that, don’t ya? Play with me. Make me love ya and then…” He stopped, his gaze lost on a spot on the ground as his hair covered part of his eyes. “Then somethin’ could happen to ya. I’m so helpless I can’t protect ya always and if I lose ya…” Daryl swallowed the lump in his throat. He threw the crossbow to the ground and turned to cover his watery eyes. “Then I'll be less than nothin’.”

Your chest fell as you exhaled, realizing the fear in him. You walked towards him, watching the wings on his vest, and you wrapped your arms around his waist. The heat of your body startled him, but it confirmed that you were there with him.

“I’m afraid of losin’ ya.” His voice struggled not to break. “I’m afraid to keep losin’. I can’t lose our people or ya. I can’t live without ya.”

Any of you could die if you two weren’t careful, and you didn’t want to lie to him by telling him that nothing would happen to you.

“I’m here now, Daryl. That’s all that matters. I know I can protect myself but I also know you will. And I hope you know that I… will always try to protect you too. We are strong together. Okay? Hey… just turn around.”

You separated from him, and waited, until he turned to you with his gaze still on the ground. His strength didn’t last long when he saw you there, still alive, and he sobbed again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he instantly clung to you as if his life depended on it. You wanted to return to the life you two had before that world, but it was impossible now. The cold reality clung to you two, but the bravery in your hearts would keep you both alive and warm, so you knew, that everything would be alright after all.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

What do you think about opinions that Chloe’s development was ruined in season 3 finale because Thomas didn’t like that viewers like her more than Marinette? I Don’t think that it’s true, but it gave me idea that Thomas ruined Chloe’s already few character development because viewers liked her more than Gabriel.

I've heard this theory before and it seems like a massive stretch to me. It's always possible, but I don't feel comfortable making accusations like this without some hard evidence and I've yet to see any, though it's not like I follow this guy on Twitter or anything. My knowledge of what goes on behind the scenes is all based on random things that make their way to my Tumblr feed. So if someone has hard evidence, feel free to reblog and add it, but the most likely explanation is just bad writing. Why ascribe malice when incompetence makes just as much sense and requires a lot less motivation?

Think about what this accusation is actually saying. It's claiming that an adult man willfully ruined a major element of his passion project (or even just the show that he's known for, meaning that it will define his future career) because he was salty that people liked a character that he created. That seems like a conspiracy theory take to me.

It's also not like Thomas has full creative control of the show! Head writers have power, but they rarely have total power. They're still employees and a ton of things happen between an episode being written and the final version being aired. Producers, directors, censors, and many others usually okay a script prior to an episode being animated because that's the most expensive element. Plus it's not like he's the only one who wrote Chloe's story. Every season two and season three episode is credited to multiple writers. In other words, it seems like multiple people signed off on Chloe's story.

There's also the issue of the air dates. Queen Wasp and Miracle Queen first aired about twelve months apart (October 6 2018 vs October 15 2019). Production times for animated TV shows are about that long, which would mean that Miracle Queen was probably being written or was even already set in stone around the time that Queen Wasp aired. In other worlds, every element of Chloe's journey was probably at least sketched out before the audience ever saw it start. That would mean that nothing in that story was reactionary. It just doesn't fit the timeline.

While Chloe's season three ending was a total mess, it was hardly out of nowhere. It was glaringly obvious that Chloe couldn't stay Queen Bee from the moment that we met Queen Bee. You can't willfully out yourself to the world and expect to stay a hero (or, at least, that shouldn't be a thing Felix). I was honestly baffled when they gave her back the bee in Malediktator and relieved when Marinette finally acknowledged the problem in Miraculer:

Ladybug: I'm sorry, Chloé. I should've told you this a long time ago. I might never be able to let you be Queen Bee again.

Which was, of course, the setup for Miracle Queen, further complicating this theory because it looks like less than a year passed between the world premieres of Queen Wasp and Miraculer (October 6 2018 vs May 15 2019).

I don't know if this made it to your Tumblr feed, but the Miraculous writing team announced that the writing for season six was done back in late March. The show won't air until sometime this winter, well over half a year later, because that's just how animation works and they've supposedly done things to make the animation process faster this season. I just don't see how this Chloe theory works or why it needs to be a thing when her bad writing falls perfectly in line with things like the absolute disaster that was season five. She wasn't a fluke, she was a warning of things to come.

As best I can tell, the entire Queen Bee plot was just an incredibly awkward and forced way to show how dangerous identity reveals were. Which isn't a bad plot to have, but don't do that plot and then let a bunch of other temp heroes keep their miraculous post reveal! Writers, what are you even doing?

If you want my best guess answer to that, then I don't think that the writers planned to make their story feel massively hypocritical. I think that they just did a dumb writing mistake that I've seen multiple shows do: they wrote a really cool cliffhanger ending without planning how to make that ending work in the following season. And there was no way to really make the ending work, so they end up just kind of ignoring it.

The reason why this happens is pretty simple. Most shows try to end their seasons on cliffhangers so that fans will come back for the next season. It's extremely rare to have a solid happy ending that ties everything together. This can lead to writers making questionable calls because they're pressed for time and have to come up with something that will keep the fans wanting more even if that thing makes no sense. It can also lead to writers making questionable calls because they DO have a plan for how the cliffhanger will play out, but when it comes time to actually put that plan into action, it gets shut down and now they have to scramble to make the nonsense work.

Anyway, what I'm really trying to say is that, as much as I like the concept of a redeemed Chloe joining the team, it was pretty clearly never going to happen in canon. The writing only backed that read for a brief moment at the start of season two where we got a handful of episodes that made Chloe feel less like a cookie-cutter mean girl and more like a true character, but then the Chloe plot really got going and I was just waiting for the inevitable fiery end. I actually thought that Chloe was going to be treated as a tragic character and become a true villain in season four. Instead we got utter nonsense that tossed her character all over the place to the point where I have no idea what they're even trying to do with her.

[nephilimeq]

Hey, I was just wondering what age you thought Derek was in season one? Cause it’s a heavily debated and unknown piece of information. Me personally I always thought he was 19 in the pilot, and this was before I had read anything about the writers wanting him to be that age in the pilot. It was just the way he acted, to me, it doesn’t seem like a mid-20s man. Also stiles says the fire happened “ like ten years ago” but then a few episodes later Peter says he’s been in a coma for 6 years. So I was just curious what you thought. Also stiles saying that is always made out to be taken as it literally happened exactly ten years ago, and people always bring it up but they never talk about how long Peter said it had been.

Sorry if this is long I just enjoy your blog and your thoughts. I wanted to share mine while also hearing it from your perspective. Hope you have a wonderful day, you deserve it!

This is a very tricky subject to handle, because the writers made mistakes in their own timeline so they switched things around.

But in the very first episode Stiles says that Derek is only a few years older than them. I always figured that Derek was around 19 in Season 1, while Stiles was 16.

The reason why they messed everything up so horribly is because they hadn't actually created a timeline for all the events when they started writing, and to me, it made the show feel like a fan fiction writer who was just making it up as they went and then all the reviewers were saying, "Hey, you have a few continuity errors," and instead of trying to make it work, they just made something up and didn't really try to go back and adjust anything.

There's a scene that happens when Stiles is asking Peter and Cora about Derek's past (Season 3, Episode 8 "Visionary"), and he is trying to find out how old they are, and this train wreck section of dialogue occurs:

Stiles: Okay, if Derek was a sophomore back then, how old was he? How old were you? ...How old are you now? Peter: Not as young as we could have been, but not as old as you might think. Stiles: Okay, that was frustratingly vague. How old are you? Cora: I'm seventeen. Stiles: See, that's an answer. That's how we answer people. Cora: Well, seventeen how you'd measure in years. Stiles: Alright, I'm just gonna drop it.

This dialogue made me so pissy when I heard it the first time because I knew that this was the writers' response to the viewers and fans. The fans are Stiles in this conversation, and the writers are Peter and Cora being purposely "frustratingly vague" in the hopes that we'll just "drop it", which a lot of us did because they wouldn't give us any straight answers.

They messed up and they know it.

In my head canon -- because it makes the most sense to me -- Derek is three years older than them. Canonically, Derek is actually only ten days older than me, as seen in this enhanced screencap right here (from Season 1, Episode 11, where Kate has him kidnapped and held up in chains):

So according to this he would have been around 22, about to turn 23 in the first season...but here's something to take into consideration. This driver's license isn't for California -- it's for New York. I have a theory that he got a professional fake I.D. so that he could do more jobs (such as bartending) while he was out of state.

Now, when Stiles mentions the fire was "like, ten years ago," I genuinely think that he was just generalizing. Derek was sixteen when Kate took advantage of him raped him, which means that the fire happened when Stiles was around twelve/thirteen (as he has a canonically April 8th birthday, so it all depends on the months).

Regarding anything Peter might have said...please remember that it has been firmly established in the show that Peter is an unreliable narrator. Stiles openly admits that to Cora in the previously mentioned Season 3, Episode 8, "Visionary".

A lot of these issues are because of the lack of consistency from the writers.

I think the biggest problem was when they cast a younger Peter and totally threw the timelines off, trying to make him only a few years older than Derek -- which he wasn't. Peter is Derek's uncle, for crying out loud! The man would have been in his late twenties, early thirties when Derek was a teen, barely looking any different than he does in the show...and yet the writers and producers thought that making him look almost like a teenager was the right call.

I do think it was a last ditch attempt to try and make Derek waaay older than Stiles because they didn't like the shipping -- but they had already established too much of their timeline at that point and simply messed up and didn't have the guts to admit it.

Simply put, I genuinely think Derek was nineteen and turned twenty during season one.

Hope that answers your questions, anon!

[lokisprettygirl]

Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 33 here/ Series Masterlist

Chapter 34

Summary : You go back to Minesotta to see Mrs Geller, You meet an actual Mark Johnson and all the weirdness leads Loki to believe that perhaps there's something going on in this timeline as well.

Warning: 18+, filthy smut , cunnilingus, HUGE Canon divergence (Just me making shit up), Dalia, Reader needs to seek professional help for her trust issues, topics dealing with cheating and falling out of love,

You were in the hospital at the moment, biting on your fingernails and waiting for the news regarding Mrs Geller, her condition hasn't improved and you were starting to lose hope, you should have been here, maybe she wouldn't have gotten hurt if you were here. You couldn't help but wonder if you caused all of this by messing with your timelines and changing fate.

Your phone started ringing so you sighed and picked it up,

"Darling are you alright?" He asked you softly and you couldn't help but smile at the sound of his voice. He wanted to be here with you, he really did and he was ready to risk it all but you convinced him not to do anything that would jeopardize things between him and other Avengers, and it would have been hella suspicious for him to come all the way here for his…Assistant.

"Yeahhh I'm just worried, I think should got to my apartment and come back again after i have slept" you took a deep breath as you said that.

"You did not go there first?"

"No I came here right from the airport" he sighed.

"You need to go get some sleep alright?" He said softly. Last night after he proposed to you and you said yes, just a few minutes later you got a call from your mom that Mrs Geller was in the hospital and your heart almost stopped beating for a second. It's been more than a month since you had seen her last and you missed her terribly, she had been like a motherly figure to you from the past few years.

"Yeahh are you busy?" You asked him so he was quiet for a moment before he answered.

"We are going for a convention darling..i wish you were here, I miss you already" he said softly so you smiled.

"I miss you too baby"

"I'll see you soon. Will convince Thor to take me there after dark, would you want that or you need your space my love?" Your eyes teared up as he said that,

"Why are you like this?"

"Like what?"

"So considerate all the time"

"Because I love you my sweet princess, you're mine to treat this way aren't you?" Your heart fluttered as he said that.

"I am yours" you said sheepishly and somehow he could picture your face being all warm and giddy, if he was there he'd have kissed the tip of your nose and continued to make you flush that way with his words and kisses.

"Be careful on the way home, alright?" He said to you so you hummed. Once he hung up, you got up to leave but you saw the doctor coming out of Mrs Geller's room so you decided to talk to him.

"Excuse me, how's she doing?" You asked him as he reached closer, he had dark brown hair, he was tall, almost 6 feet but shorter than Loki.

"Are you her daughter? Monica?" He asked you. British accent.

"Uhhh no i am y/n…her neighbor" he finally looked up at you from his clipboard as you said that.

"I'm Doctor Mark Johnson, I performed the surgery on her after–"

You chuckled so he stopped mid sentence and gave you a glare "What amused you?" You looked at him and stopped smiling as he questioned.

"Not just your..Wait, that's your actual name? For real"

"You think you're the first person to mock me for my name?" He said to you sternly, he seemed offended and rightly so.

"Oh Nooo I'm sorry I wasn't mocking you ..it's just..it sounds made up…never mind I'm sorry, what were you saying?" You asked him so he shook his head,

"She's in a coma for now and I can't say for certain whether her condition will improve or not"

Your eyes teared up as he revealed that information and his expressions softened a little because of your reaction.

"You should call her daughter "

"She'll be here soon" you said to him so he nodded.

"Is there any chance she'll be okay?" You asked him so he nodded again,

"Miracles happen all the time, just hope for that" you nodded, a miracle had to happen, you couldn't lose her, not like this, she didn't deserve that.

"Thank you for…uhhh..I'm sorry for the .. chuckling.. I didn't mean to..I was leaving anyways.. byeee" you turned around and bolted out of there before you'd embarrass yourself further in front of him.

How could his name be Mark Johnson? It's true that there were several people on earth with that name but what were the odds that he was someone you would meet?

As you walked inside your apartment you couldn't help but cry from all emotions you were feeling at the moment..you really needed to cry and cry as much as possible because everything that has been happening since you shifted your reality was starting to overwhelm you.

After taking a shower, you made a cup of tea and sat down on the couch, you couldn't deny how good it felt to have your privacy back. You just wished Loki was there with you as well.

After falling asleep on the couch when you woke up it was already 7 pm so you decided to go see Mrs Geller again. As you entered her room you saw Mark so you gave him a smile but he stared at you and went back to fiddling with his clipboard, you still couldn't wrap your head around his name but decided to not dwell on it for now.

Mrs Geller's daughter Monica was there too and as soon as you saw her she walked towards you and hugged you, you two weren't close but everytime she visited her mother all of you hung out together.

"I'm so sorry" you whispered softly as she cried and soon after she pulled away,

"I should have been here, she's getting older and i just –"

"Don't blame yourself, it could have happened anywhere, stop blaming yourself okay? She'll be okay I just know she'll pull through, she's just strong like that" You told her so she nodded.

The fact was, not Monica but perhaps you needed to be here as you were supposed to be, you couldn't help but wonder that if you were here, maybe just maybe her fate would have been different.

"Get some coffee" Mark said to Monica so she nodded and excused herself, you noticed how he was looking at her as she walked out.

"She's single" you bit on your tongue as soon as the words left your mouth.

"I'm sure i didn't ask" he said nonchalantly.

"Rightt" you mumbled in your mouth after digging a huge hole for yourself, all over again "Is she any better?" You asked to change the topic and avoid any further embarrassment.

"Can't say..were you two close? Don't often see neighbors visiting their neighbors like this"

"Yeah we are close..she's like a mother to me" your eyes teared up as you looked at her, you just wanted her to wake up and live the rest of her life, even after everything she had been through when she lost her husband she was still optimistic about life and she always looked out for you.

After visiting her you and Monica went for dinner to a nearby diner, as much as you missed Loki right now and god you missed him alot, it's barely been a day, but you had also missed doing all this normal people stuff, nobody was staring at you and looking for flaws to put you down here.

"Engaged?" Monica asked so you quickly took off the ring Loki had given you after he proposed and put it inside the pocket of your jeans.

"No it's just a ring" you chuckled nervously, you didn't know what to say to her. Did you say yes to getting married? You knew you wanted it with him but this isn't how you expected it to happen, you didn't want him to propose to you just because you felt insecure about yourself.

"Mom is always worried about you" she smiled as she said that you nodded.

"Well there's someone but we are not..engaged...yet"

You didn't even get a chance to tell Mrs Geller about Loki in this timeline, you remembered how happy she was when she met Loki and he gave her the sweater, but that didn't even happen, everything you had been through in the previous timeline never even happened.

When you made your way back to the apartment you called Loki but he was probably busy so you texted him but he didn't respond to that either.

What was he doing? Who was he with? You started to feel awful again as you thought about him being with a woman or Dalia, that man just proposed to you last night and you still doubted that he wanted to be yours forever.

Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves you then laid down on the couch and dozed off again, it felt good to have the freedom to sleep whenever you wanted. The more serious your relationship got the more insecure you became because your mind couldn't stop asking that one question. When will he finally be done with you?

Around 12 am you heard knocks on your window so you immediately sat up and smiled as you saw Loki on the other side, you ran towards your window and opened it immediately to get him inside, he hugged you as tightly as he could before he cupped your cheeks and kissed you.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were busy" you giggled so he kissed you again, he conjured a bouquet of your favorite flowers and it made you gasp and then he conjured something else, It was a box of cake,

"You don't remember, do you?" He grabbed your hand and walked towards the kitchen counter to put the cake down. It was your birthday, he remembered it even if you didn't.

You kissed him as lovingly as you could at the gesture and after you both were done celebrating you laid down with him on the bed, it reminded you of the old times

"This is the first time I'm celebrating my birthday twice in a year" he chuckled as you said that, he got on top of you and looked in your eyes before he kissed you sweetly.

"How are you feeling?" He asked as he caressed your hair with his fingers. He knew how much she meant to you and he was worried about Mrs Geller as well, she was a kind lady and didn't deserve this at all.

"I just want her to wake up and talk to me again, i didn't call her even once in the last month, she must have thought I forgot all about her as soon as I moved away" your eyes teared up so he smiled and caressed your cheek with the pad of his thumb,

"She'd never think of you like that Princess, you didn't have time to even breathe and I know she would understand if she knew. She will wake up and you will talk to her again I promise" you nodded as he said that, you needed assurance even if it wasn't really the truth.

"Lately all I have been doing is complaining about myself, tell me your thoughts, your feelings, I need to know please" he smiled and kissed you again as you said that

"I am alright as long as I have my princess, I don't think I would have been so eager to redeem myself if I didn't have you by my side" your eyes welled up even more so you kissed him passionately, his fingers linked with yours and as soon as he rubbed his thumb over your ring finger you knew the question would follow,

"Took the ring off I see?" He looked confused and slightly worried as he brought your hand up to inspect.

"I want to marry you lo ..i really do, I don't think I would want anything more than that, I never thought I'd ever want to get married because I was pretty sure I'd never fall so deeply in love, with you however I'd do it in a heartbeat But–" you hesitated to speak so he caressed your cheekbones with his fingers

"But?"

"I don't want you to marry me because you think you have to prove your trust or your loyalty to me"

"That's not why I wanted to marry you–"

"I know lo, i know your intentions are always so pure when it comes to me..but I want to let go of my issues and not think of you like that in my worst moments.. I need time for that and I know I'm not there just yet"

He cupped your cheeks as you said that and kissed you, he wanted nothing more than for you to heal from the traumas of your past, he wanted you to put your faith in him completely but he knew a thing or two about traumas, he knew it was never easy and as someone who understood how painful it was for your mind to be suffering that way he knew he'd be patient with you, he knew he would never be annoyed by your suffering because that's just what you'd do for him him as well.

"Alright I understand my little darling, what can I do for you today hmm? It's your birthday, what do you want us to do, though it's happening under unwanted circumstances but we are away from the tower like you had wanted" you smiled as he said that

"I just want to stay here baby ..just me and you like old times" a small smile crept on his lips as you said that, he snuggled his face between your neck and cuddled you like a baby. It's been several nights since you two had gotten the opportunity to be with each other like this, and it couldn't have been better than this, he dreamt of this place often, your tiny apartment and him cuddling with you on this tiny bed.

"I forgot to mention, the guy treating Mrs Geller, you won't believe what his name is" he chuckled as you said that.

"What is it?"

"Mark Johnson, do you remember that name?" He looked at you as you said that.

"That is ..weird i assume"

"Yeahhh I mean in the original timeline we weren't supposed to meet each other until later, do you think we are messing with the time right now and Mark Johnson is like a warning or something?" You asked him and he sighed deeply,

"I don't know darling, if it was supposed to be like that then why did we remember each other? Perhaps Strange messed with the spell but Our lives could have only gone as destined if we had forgotten each other completely but we didn't, i couldn't have left for Asgard leaving you all alone here, you couldn't have married Strange knowing you are in love with me"

"I know but it's just so weird, I felt weird seeing him, do you think the only reason I used that name for you in the previous timeline is because I was supposed to meet him for real in this one?"

"I don't understand what you mean"

"I know it doesn't make sense baby, but what if that is exactly what was supposed to happen to us, like in movies, there's always a time loop right? So what if in this timeline timeline we had done what was meant to happen, like you got back to Asgard, I found Strange and married him, But what if the marriage didn't work out because deep down I was always in love with you even though I didn't remember you? Like a timeloop, and maybe that's the reason why we got married in six months of knowing each other was because the connection between us was undeniable. I know I'm not making sense but I'm trying so hard to explain it" .

"You're trying to tell me that it's a constant loop? That we were supposed to meet years later and aren't supposed to be together right now?"

"Yes ..part of what I'm trying to say..may be we were never supposed to remember each other but we do somehow and that scares me. What if he comes back again and tries to take it all away from us again?" you sighed deeply and he looked as if he was thinking about it too now.

"I won't let it happen darling, this is the correct timeline, it won't make any sense, what would he try to prevent this time?"

"I am so confused, I wish we could have just talked to him but he's not even the witch doctor just yet, is he?"

He shook his head as you said that but he knew where he had to go to find some answers. Doctor Strange would become sorcerer supreme later but there must be one who already exists before him. He had to find the Sorcerer Supreme to find answers.

"I'll try to dig deeper but for now I need you to calm down, can you do that for me?" He asked softly so you snuggled into him. You didn't want to waste this night away thinking about your messed up life.

Your hands snuck inside his shirt and he hummed in response,

"What are you doing?" He asked, there was a sense of mischief in his tone,

"Enjoying my birthday gift" you whispered softly as you unbuttoned his pants and trailed your hand inside to grab his cock, he moaned in your ears before he proceeded to place wet kisses on your neck, his hand snuck inside your pajamas as well and he rubbed his fingers over the fabric of your underwear, he could feel it getting drenched more and more as he continued to touch you intimately.

"Fuck me baby please" you whispered in his ears and he chuckled in a condescending manner.

"Such an impatient little darling" you bit on your lips as he pulled your pants down and underwear at the same time, he grabbed your hands and placed them over your head, his black shirt was unbuttoned but you didn't take it off, he didn't remove your t-shirt either, his mouth latched onto your erect nipples and he gave it a few kitten licks over the fabric itself.

You couldn't stop moaning, everytime you tried to wrap your arms around his neck he grabbed your hands and placed them over your head again.

"Don't make me tie you up sweetheart" a gasp escaped your mouth as he said that

He got on his knees and lowered down his pants, you looked down as he stroked himself slowly with one hand while the other one pushed his hair behind so they were not obscuring his view, there was something about your man just pleasing himself that always made you want to lose all decency. If you had any with him.

Loki moaned at the sight of your open legs and the view of your soaked cunt in front of him.

He brought his other hand down to touch your lips before his fingers found your clit, your back arched at the sensation, it felt too much, he was so sexy you couldn't even believe he was all yours at times.

"So fucking beautiful you are love, look at you..spread them legs wider for me, will you?" his voice came out raspy as he praised you and then commanded you to do something in the same sentence. You felt so shy but it was thrilling as you exposed yourself more to him.

"That's my girl, so submissive" he grabbed your thighs and leaned between your legs,

"Lokiii–" before you could finish your words he already had his mouth on your cunt. Licking, sucking and nipping on your flesh as if you were his last meal. The vulgar sounds that escaped his mouth made you lose all your inhibitions, you grabbed onto the headboard to keep your hands under control because he wanted you on his mercy, he didn't want you to touch him just yet.

He spread your lips wide with his fingers before he licked over and over again, his tongue finally made its way inside your entrance and you couldn't control the sounds that left your throat at the moment, you were so loud but you didn't want to stop.

His tongue moved in and out of your cunt slowly and he couldn't help but keep his eyes on your form. Your back was arched, eyes rolling into your head, your hands clutched the top of the headboard so harshly that he was afraid you were hurting yourself. Best of all, you couldn't stop chanting his name like a prayer, he pressed his nose deeper into your clit to provide more stimulation as his tongue continued to fuck you slowly. He could tell just from your quivering body that you were close but he didn't want you to cum just yet, he wanted you to shatter completely tonight, so he got back on his knees, pulled a condom on and slowly thrusted inside your wet sloppy cunt.

He leaned over you and grabbed your hands to wrap them around his neck as he began to fuck you slowly, you finally opened your eyes and looked at him, his mouth was soaked from your juices so you brought your fingers up and wiped it before you pressed your finger inside his mouth, he sucked on it slowly and moaned at the sweet taste before he kissed you deeply, his tongue played with yours and you could hear the sounds of his balls smacking against your cunt as he fucked you hard and fast but at the same time he was as tender as he could be.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?" You smiled as he murmured against your mouth

"So are you my pretty baby..I'm so sorry for hurting you like that all the time" your eyes teared up, you felt overwhelmed, his fingers gripped your hair and he kissed you again before he spoke,

"You hurt yourself more than you hurt me with those thoughts, I just need you to remember how much I love you whenever you are having such horrible thoughts about us"

You nodded as he said that but he wasn't done just yet, he thrusted in and out of you quickly as he continued to speak to you.

"Where else would I find a girl like you, my love? You were made just for me, your heart so kind and accepting to take me with all my flaws, your body is heavenly underneath me and on top of me, your cunt wraps around me perfectly, always so tight and eager for my cock. Your whole existence makes my own existence worth it, it makes me believe in fate and now I know that it wasn't all for nothing, I know every decision I made led me to you and I'd do it all over again, over and over again I'd choose only you because you make my life worth living"

Tears rolled down your eyes as he said that, you pulled him as close as you could without suffocating him and as his cock twitched and he let go, you squeezed your walls around him, the stimulation was all you needed to push over the edge.

Both of your breaths were heavy and bodies sweaty from the mind numbing pleasure, you needed more than a few minutes to recover from this. This is one of the best nights you had with him in the past few weeks and you truly, desperately needed it. He was all you needed and you fell asleep in his arms just like that with his cock still inside you.

However, what you had said though was troubling him a little. Did you two mess with the timeline when you both decided to change the path? He knew you were meant to end up with him, but had you two hurried the process and ruined a few things? What if you were right? What if it's because of that decision Mrs Geller was hurt right now?

What if more such instances will occur in future?

He knew had to find the answers before something worse would happen. That is why he seeked the Sorcerer Supreme to learn more about their situation, however he had a feeling he wouldn't enjoy whatever he was going to find out from her.

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Note : Definitely casting young Courtney Cox as Monica (because duh it's Mrs Geller's daughter 😂)

And I found Mark Johnson as well

Taglist

@annoyingsweetsstranger @mcufan72 @nixymarvelkins @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @eleniblue @violethaze @anukulee @ladymischief11 @12-pm-510 @wolfsmom1 @whylokiissocute @pics-and-fanfics @daddylokisqueen @olivertwistrabbit @blog-the-lilly @prettylittlepluviophile @vanilla-daydreaming @somewiseguy @yaaamadaa-blog @dragonmurray @elthreetimes @gruftiela @thenotoriouserg @greep215 @yallgotkik @janineb86 @sflame15-blog @nyxlaufeyson @lokidokieokie @purplekitten30 @sunnixart @nikkig496-blog @frozenhuntress67 @qardasngan @rosecentury @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @hrefna-the-raven @jennyggggrrr

@cosniffee @lotsoflokilove23

[writingforstraykids]

Addicted to you - Chp. 7

Pairing: Minchan (mention of changlix | ot8)

Word Count: 7348

Summary: Another two months later, things seem to stabilize again, and Minho is happier than ever with Chan despite his injury slowing him down. Everything seems to be perfect until their friends confront Chan about a possible relationship, and Chan's fear of being out in the open gets the better of him. He notices too late that Minho's right there, hearing everything...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, cuddles, smut , dom!chan, sub!minho, angst, verbal fight (also minho slaps chan)

A/N: Uhm...I'm sorry, it gets sad/heavy in the end @mal-lunar-28😅😂 ~ Moon🌙

Chp. 6 | Chp. 8

Just about the time I get it right Everything's in line, I get anxious If it feels too good to be true Then it probably is, I love it but I hate it Self Sabotage ~ Ruelle

Chan hadn't been lying about needing to let off some steam. Minho was slyly teasing him in front of the others, hands wandering over his body when no one was looking. In turn, Minho found himself getting fucked stupid in the most inappropriate settings, and he was secretly starting to love it. Backstage between performances in some desolate room or Chan's studio when Jisung and Changbin were away to get snacks. One night, they found themselves alone in the house and Minho was being a tease to no end. Chan, who had enough of his antics, bent him over the kitchen counter, ravishing Minho and interrupting him making dinner. On another early morning occasion, Chan sucked him off in their shared showers, and Minho could do nothing but contain his moans and hope no one would hear them, or worse, come inside. 

Just like that, another two months passed, and Minho started getting excited about their first year together. Chan’s mood was slowly stabilizing and things were improving between the two. They still hadn't defined what they were exactly, but it felt a lot like he had a boyfriend, which was alright with him. 

Minho was in his room scrolling through his social media platforms for cute ideas on how to make their "anniversary" special and perfect. He gently rubbed his knee and contorted his face at the stinging pain. About a week ago during practice, he messed up the landing after a jump and hurt his knee. The doctors advised him to take it easy and go on walks to keep up with movement but to refrain from dancing for a couple days. It pissed him off, but he knew he'd make it worse by not listening to them. So Chan had accompanied him on his walks and ensured he wasn't overdoing it. Someone knocked at his door, and only a moment later, his favorite curly-haired boy glanced inside. "Hi there," he smiled brightly, quickly turning off his phone to give his full, undivided attention. 

Chan smiled and came over, leaning down for a quick kiss. "You think you can show me those steps again before the children join us?" 

"Sure thing, love," he told him and took his hand, walking downstairs with him. "You look really cute today," he said softly. Chan was wearing a light blue sweater and black sweatpants combined with a beanie of his, a few curls sticking out from beneath it. 

"Thank you, baby," he smiled shyly and squeezed his hand thankfully. 

Minho looked at him fondly, checked their surroundings, and gave him a quick kiss. He looked over him once more and let a passing smirk grace his lips. “Am I right to think you are looking for cuddles?” He squinted his eyes playfully at the man.

“What gave it away?” Chan asked, giggling softly.

“My sweater,” Minho chuckled knowingly and brushed his hand over Chan’s shoulder. “You usually wear my clothes when you do.”

Chan laughed softly, heart melting at how well Minho knew him. It was true; he usually wore something that belonged to Minho when he felt lonely and in need of comfort. This way, he had him wherever he went. “Stop being so sweet to me,” he said softly. 

“Stop having such a beautiful smile,” Minho said, winking at him as Chan blushed deeply, hiding his face slightly to cover a small smile. “See, you can’t change that either. Deal with it, Channie love.” He teased the man with a chuckle.

Once they got to the practice room, Minho turned on the music quietly and stepped next to Chan, taking his hand once more. He talked him through the steps again before demonstrating to him. Chan followed his directions and danced along, still holding hands. As soon as they were done, Chan pulled him into a warm embrace, making Minho giggle happily as their noses brushed together. “Can I take you out for dinner tomorrow?”

Minho’s smile widened. “Just you and me?”

“Just us,” he nodded, and his heart warmed seeing how excited Minho looked at the confirmation.

“Is this a date, Channie love?” he asked softly.

“You could call it that,” he nodded with a sweet smile. “I have something to give you,” he said, thinking of the small silver ring safely stored away in his room. He was ready to take things a step further and finally put a label on their relationship.

“Oh, really?” he asked curiously and searched his eyes. God, his lips were begging Minho to kiss him right then and here.

"Look at our hyungs flirting again!" Jeongin shouted out, and Minho flinched away from Chan, surprised. From the corner of his eye, he sees the others begin to pile into the room.

"You're just jealous," Chan grinned at him, still holding his hand. 

Minho looked down at their hands and bit back a smile. "Alright let's get ready, everyone." 

"You better take it easy," Chan warned him. 

"I know," he sighed softly and mostly supervised his friends for the rest of the afternoon. Boring. 

-

Minho later found himself sitting at his desk in his room, listening to a few new songs and humming along softly. He wrote down a few ideas for the dances and scribbled down some formations and group placements. 

"Minho hyung?" He heard a voice softly call out his name.

"Yes?" he asked, looking up at Jisung, who was glancing inside his room from the doorway. 

"Can I have the keys to the practice room? Hyunjin locked us out again," he chuckled. 

Minho opened the drawer on his left and took out the keys. "Unlock the door and bring them right back before the same thing happens again," he said, tossing him the keys. Jisung nodded and left, leaving the door cracked open. Minho went back to focusing on the songs. 

"Min?" Felix called out to him not even five minutes later. 

"Yes, Lixie?" he asked, putting down his pen and looking up at the man. 

"I just wanted to ask if you're still up for working on new stuff tomorrow?" 

"Yeah, sure thing," he nodded and flashed him a smile as he gave him a thumbs up. 

"Nice," he beamed.

“I mean, we could just work on it later today if you’d like,” Minho suggested. But his expression dropped a little as Felix contorted his face from his words. “Or not?”

“Changbinnie’s coming back from his trip today. I wanted to try and spend some time with him before the others come for him,” he apologized gently. 

“Ohh, right,” Minho chuckled and waved him off. “That’s fine. Make sure you get some cuddles for me too,” he winked at him, and Felix giggled before leaving again, still leaving the door cracked open. "I should've closed the door," he groaned to himself and glanced over, deciding he was too lazy to do so and leaving it open. Hopefully, he can continue working in pea- 

"Hyung?" Jeongin's voice interrupted his thoughts once more. Or maybe not…

Minho closed his eyes in defeat, forcing a bright smile on his lips for their maknae before looking up at him. "Yes, dear?" 

"I feel like I didn't get all the steps today and I'm nervous I'll mess them up," he confessed, genuine worry in his tone as he spoke. 

"Innie, I promise you'll be fine. I think you did a great job today and it's only going to get better," he told him patiently. "We can go through them again together tomorrow, okay?" 

"Okay," he beamed at him, relieved. He gave Minho a smile and left, with the door still open.

He continued working, and three minutes later, someone knocked gently. "Oh, for fucks sake, can't I work in peace for like ten minutes?" he groaned. Once he looked up, he met Chan's amused chocolate eyes. "Ah, it's you." 

"Wow, not the exact greeting I was hoping for," he giggled and strolled over to his lover. "What are you doing?" 

"Trying to work," he told him. "Obviously," he pointed at his desk. 

"Want to take a break?" Chan asked. 

"Not really, no," Minho shook his head. "My brain's producing good stuff right now." 

"Mhm," he hummed and glanced around his room. "Can I stay?" 

"Sure, just be quiet," he nodded and vaguely waved towards his bed. Chan hummed, agreeing, but sat down at the edge of his desk instead. That alone meant trouble, and Minho wanted to stay focused. "Channie," he tried patiently. 

"What?" he asked innocently. 

"I'm working," he said, glancing up at him. 

"I know, you just told me so," Chan nodded in agreement and blinked at him innocently. "Am I distracting you?" 

"Only a little," he said and squinted his eyes at him. Chan’s gaze didn’t waver one bit, instead locking in on Minho’s harder. And he knew exactly what that meant. "You're horny right now, aren’t you?," he asked suddenly, but he could tell the shift in his lover’s eyes once he looked in them. 

"What? No…Well, maybe a little," he shrugged sheepishly. "You know it's not fair that you're so effortlessly handsome," he complained. 

"It's not fair you're ready to have sex all the time either. Deal with it," he spoke as a warning. "Go look behind my sweaters. There's some stuff you could use to pass the time." 

Chan rolled his eyes and leaned forward, bracing himself on the armrests of his chair. "Baby." 

"Love?" he asked, slightly irritated. 

"I won't settle for anything other than you, you hear me?" he asked, and Minho's ears quickly burned blush pink. 

"But I'm working on our songs, love," he whined softly, a bit frustrated. But he couldn’t stop himself from shifting in his seat as Chan’s words went straight to his core, making him feel fuzzy and hot.

"Min-." 

"What the fuck are you doing?" Jisung asked, suddenly standing in the doorway again and interrupting the two. 

"He's trying to bully me into cuddling with him when I'm supposed to be working," Minho smoothly answered and shoved Chan back to create a little distance. "What the fuck are you doing? Again?" he said back. 

"Keys," he said, holding them up proudly. 

"Oh, right," he nodded and took them. He placed them back in the drawer. "Close the door on the way out." 

"Why, need some privacy for cuddles?" he asked teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows at the two. 

"Get out right now," Minho jokingly threatened him. Jisung left giggling and closed the door. 

Minho turned his attention back to the man sitting on his desk. "Chan, what's up with you?" 

"Nothing." 

"Don't lie, you suck at it," he giggled. 

Chan sighed softly and hid his face in his hands. “Don’t make me say it, it's so embarrassing." 

"What is?" he asked, frowning softly. Was there a need to be concerned?

Chan whined and spoke in a single breath. "Ireallylikewhenyougointofullleadermodeduringdancepractice," he mumbled out. 

"You what?" Minho asked, blinking softly. 

"I really like when you go into full leader mode during dance practice," he confessed and chewed on his lower lip. “Its really hot seeing you take charge,”

"Oh, you do?" he asked with a hint of fake curiosity, remembering Felix had mentioned this before. Chan nodded and covered his cheeks, blushing in slight embarrassment. "How much, Mr. I'm always in control?" he asked, intrigued to know the answer. He kept his eyes locked onto his to see his next move

“Way too much,” he confessed shyly and dropped to his knees in front of his chair. Minho raised his eyebrows at him as Chan rested his chin on his knees, gazing up at him with soft, pleading eyes. 

“Stop looking at me like that, love. You’re gonna make me hard,” he told him with a chuckle, brushing Chan’s curls back. Gosh, this man looked good with his natural curly hair and bare face. He loved the sight of Chan on his knees, practically begging for attention. The fact that he was wearing his sweater didn’t help either.

“Why don’t you continue working, and I’ll take care of it?” Chan proposed, a grin stretching his lips once Minho gave in, knowing he’d lose out on any chance of working later if he wouldn’t let him have his way now.

Minho really tried to focus on his work, he did. But with Chan beneath the table, pulling down his sweatpants enough to pull his dick out, it was a little challenging. Chan didn’t waste any time, licking up his shaft and twirling his tongue around the tip. His eyes fluttered close as Chan started taking him into his mouth, giving himself time to adjust to him and take him in deeper. Minho’s lips parted with a gasp as Chan took him in deeper, tongue massaging his dick perfectly. “Feels so good, Channie,” he let him know, panting as he felt the warm, wetness of his mouth close around him. Once Chan had gotten comfortable enough, he started bobbing his head in a steady rhythm, and Minho’s hand shot down to bury itself in his hair. “Fuck,” he sighed and dropped his pen on the desk, giving up on his work. This was so much better. He adjusted in his seat a bit more comfortably.

Chan suddenly pulled back and looked up at him with dilated pupils. He massaged his thighs, smiling up at him lovingly. “Fuck, you sound beautiful,” he told him, and Minho blushed. “You think you can keep quiet while I touch you some more, kitten?” he asked, and Minho nodded quickly, immediately melting at the pet name. Chan’s thumb brushed Minho’s lips before pushing two fingers into his mouth. Minho moaned softly and sucked at them eagerly, covering them in his spit as Chan kept on rubbing his thigh teasingly. Chan proceeded to pull Minho’s sweatpants down further and, grabbing his thighs, pulled him forward in his chair. 

Minho cursed softly as Chan took him back into his mouth and started pushing one finger into him at the same time. He gripped his curls tightly and shivered at the groan that left Chan’s throat at his action. Minho melted into his chair and relaxed fully into the feeling of Chan opening him up. Not too much time passed before Chan was buried four fingers deep into his lover. He had his legs resting on his shoulders, one hand gripping the armrest and the other one guiding Chan’s head up and down his length. Minho’s head fell back with a whiny moan as he hit the back of his throat, and he couldn’t help but moan Chan’s name loudly. 

Chan gently squeezed his thigh, signaling him to be quiet, and moaned around his dick deliciously. He was enjoying the pull on his hair and the strangled sounds he pulled from him. Chan tried to pull back, but Minho held him in place and shook his head. “Don’t stop, Channie,” he told him breathlessly. “Please don’t stop.”

Chan still pulled back and got up, lifting Minho up from the chair. He sat down in the chair with him on his lap and kissed him hungrily. “I tried my best,” he told him, and Minho giggled sweetly. “But you’re driving me crazy.”

“As usual,” Minho chuckled and kissed him hard as he reached down between them, pulling Chan’s dick from his pants. “Lube,” he told him, and Chan reached into his drawer to take the small bottle out. 

“You keep that right next to the keys to the dance room?” he laughed. 

“I have no secrets,” he shrugged with a chuckle, and took the bottle from him, flicking the cap open. Minho shifted a little, adjusting his weight on his lower body, but contorted his face at the sharp pain shooting through his knee. Chan noticed from the corner of his eye and lifted him up again, standing up with him in his arms. He pushed Minho’s notes aside and sat him down at the edge of the table. Minho looked at him and lovingly caressed his cheek as he captured his lips in a kiss. He had never felt as safe and cared for as when he’s with Chan. It was perfect. Minho grabbed a condom from the drawer and rolled it over Chan’s dick.

“Just try to relax, okay?” he mumbled into the kiss after spreading some lube over his dick. Minho hummed softly and took a couple deep breaths. Chan started pushing into him slowly. 

Once he was fully buried inside him, Minho wrapped his legs loosely around Chan’s waist. Chan grabbed his thigh, making sure to steady his injured leg, and braced himself on the table behind Minho. Minho wrapped one arm around his neck, burying his hand in his curls, and braced himself right next to him, fingertips touching. Minho moaned sweetly as soon as he started moving and kissed him passionately, trying to stifle his moans. 

It didn’t help much since Chan also started moaning at the feeling of being inside him. They moved in sync, moaning into each other’s mouths, chasing the other’s lips. Minho arched into him and moved his hand up to grip his sweater right between his shoulders. Minho pulled up the fabric between his fingers, his head falling back as Chan kissed down his neck. He pulled at his curls, making him moan against his skin, and smiled blissfully at the feeling. 

“Fuck, kitten,” Chan whispered against his skin and thrust into him deep. 

Minho stopped caring about his volume; he was already too far gone. He held Chan close as their bodies melted together in pure bliss. The two men pressed their foreheads together. Their breaths mingled as their noses brushed against each other, hair sticking to their flesh. “Channie,” he whispered sweetly in his ear.

“Min, baby,” Chan whispered back softly. He still couldn’t believe he gets to see Minho so vulnerable and open for him. He was a different kind of pretty in moments like these. It was addicting. The two were so focused on each other that they didn’t hear the small tapping on the door, followed by it opening slowly.

“Minho, do you have a moment?” Felix asked while walking in, but his eyes widened at the sight in front of him. 

“Bad moment, Lixie,” Minho breathed out, not even giving a fuck about him catching them in the act. Chan felt too damn good inside of him right now, and Felix had seen him naked before. His head fell back with a loud moan as Chan’s dick finally tapped his prostate with a particular thrust, and he gripped the sweater tightly.

“Oh fuck, sorry! “ he rambled and quickly covered his ears, closing his eyes and stumbling back outside. Felix blushed heavily as he closed the door and covered his face in his hands. 

“I should really learn how to knock,” he groaned at himself and stood still in the hallway for a moment, trying to push away the vivid images. He didn’t fully succeed, almost feeling a little jealous at how in sync and in love those two had just seemed in that moment. The way they solely focused on each other’s pleasure. Just like earlier at the practice room before the rest had joined them…and even during practice. These two just fit together perfectly. Sometimes, he longed for Binnie to look at him like that and hold him close like that without him initiating it. He shook his head at himself, pushing those thoughts away. He was happy, after all. He sighed once more and went to his room.

“Will you ever learn to -ohh fuck- lock the door?” Minho breathed out between moans.

“Has he ever heard of knocking?” Chan asked breathlessly.

“He never does,” Minho giggled, and his eyes fluttered close with a soft whimper. “Channie, I’m so close.”

Chan was about to answer before his hips suddenly stilled, and he came with a groan of his name. He bit down on Minho’s shoulder to stifle his sounds, and Minho came on the spot, spilling all over his sweater. They spent a little bit in each other’s arms, catching their breath. Once ready, Chan pulled out of him gently, took the condom off, and threw it into the bin beneath the desk. He tucked himself back into his pants before taking the sweater off and using it to clean Minho up. “Sorry,” he laughed and kissed him gently.

Minho giggled against his lips and let Chan help him out of his own sweater. Chan got some fresh clothes from his drawers and helped him get dressed. Minho’s hands gently roamed Chan’s bare chest as he kissed him afterwards. He pulled Chan with him to his closet and looked through his things. While they find time to meet for sex, Minho always takes Chan’s dirty clothes and washes them, keeping them safe in his room for times such as these. His fingertips brushed over the small box hidden behind his shirts, and he smiled, thinking of the bracelet he had bought for Chan as a surprise resting there for now. “There you go,” he smiled and handed him a shirt.

“This is mine?” he giggled, raising his eyebrow at his lover.

“I know,” he grinned.

“You’ve been stealing my clothes?” he asked, amused, and pulled the shirt over his head. 

“Maybe,” he said innocently and closed the closet again. “They smell like you, you know. It’s comforting.”

Chan’s face softened, and he took his hands. “You’re so adorable, kitten.” Minho hummed, satisfied, and Chan kissed his nose. “Kissing you all those months ago has been the best decision I’ve made in a while.”

Minho blushed a little and pulled him close. “Allowing you to do so has definitely been one of my brightest moments,” he nodded giggling. “I don’t regret it at all”.

Chan smiled sweetly, but then suddenly started laughing. The memory of Felix walking into the room still very fresh. "How could you be so unbothered by Felix walking in on us?" 

"You're pretty amazing at what you do. I wasn't really thinking about it," he shrugged his shoulders, making Chan laugh even more. "But still, Felix has seen all of me. It isn’t really a shock anymore." 

"Mhm, fair point. It's not like he hasn't caught me before as well. It's always Felix, isn't it?" he groaned softly. 

"Felix knows and has seen too much," he nodded. "I’d better go look for him and ask what he wants." 

"Leaving me already?" he pouted, not wanting to let Minho go just yet. 

"Come on, you big baby," he giggled, pulling him with him. Minho went down the hallway, knocking on Felix's door. "Sorry, Lix, toddler alert," he joked as they stepped into his space. But his face fell seeing him sitting against his headboard, hugging a pillow as tears ran down his cheeks. "Yongbokie, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, climbing onto his bed. "We didn't traumatize you, did we?" he joked. 

Felix laughed through tears and rolled his eyes. "Of course not," he groaned. "Sorry for interrupting. I should've knocked." 

"Forget about that," Chan said, sitting down on Felix's other side. "What's wrong, mate?" 

"Nothing, I'm just being stupid," he told them, sniffing softly. 

"That happens sometimes," Minho winked at him and gently squeezed Felix's hand. "But this isn’t one of those times. Come on, sunshine, what's going on?" 

"I just really missed Changbinnie these past two weeks," he told them and sniffled softly. Changbin had been back at home before being abroad for a few promotional things and advertisements. "I really hoped we could cuddle or spend time together when he comes back, but he told me he just wants to unpack and take a nap afterward. And I…I don't know. I'm feeling lonely and touch starved, but Jisung and Hyunjin are busy practicing, and Seungmin and Jeongin are already off cuddling each other somewhere." 

Chan hummed gently and wrapped his arm around him, rubbing his shoulder. "And that upset you?" 

Felix nodded, and Minho searched his eyes. "I'm sure Changbin didn't mean to upset you. We all know how tired and grumpy he gets after a flight," he calmed him. 

"I know. As I said, I'm being stupid," he sighed and messily wiped his cheeks with his sleeve. 

Minho handed him a tissue and shook his head. "You're not being stupid, Lixie." 

Chan gently ruffled through his hair. "You know you can come to us for a cuddle whenever you need it." 

"He probably wanted to," Minho pointed out, and they all started laughing. "Are you still feeling lonely and touch-starved?" 

Felix nodded timidly at him. Minho felt the tug at his heartstrings, looking at his big, teary eyes. 

"You know what? I'll share Channie with you today," he offered, making his hyung snort. "Cuddles only, of course." 

"Min," Felix protested weakly and hit his arm, giggling. 

Chan rolled his eyes softly before moving between them, lying down, and letting Minho cuddle to his side comfortably. "Come on, Felix." 

Minho gently patted Chan's chest, and Felix took the hint, making himself comfortable on top of Chan. Minho lazily wrapped his arm around him as Chan covered them all with Felix's blanket. Chan soothingly rubbed Felix's back before moving his hand up to play with his hair. His other arm was draped around Minho's waist, hands intertwined on his hip. Minho lovingly fondled Felix's cheek for a moment. "Is this better, sunshine?" 

"Yeah," Felix nodded, smiling softly. 

Chan relaxed as they soon fell asleep in his arms, and he smiled. He didn't take long to drift off as well, and his head sank against Minho's, searching for him even in his sleep. 

-

Felix woke up later, somehow cuddled between them as Chan had turned onto his side in his sleep. Minho and Chan were hugging him from both sides, their legs all intertwined. Minho had his face buried in his shirt between his shoulders whilst Chan's face was buried in his hair. Felix hadn't felt that warm and comfortable in a long while and closed his eyes again, deciding to enjoy the much-needed feeling a little longer. 

-

Minho woke up a little later, carefully letting go of him and stretching his body tiredly. Felix turned to face him and flashed him a tired smile. Minho reached for Felix's phone to check the time and saw a few messages from Changbin. "I think your boyfriend's waiting for you," he told him quietly, and Felix's eyes lit up. "I'll wake him up. You go get your cuddles." Minho whispers as he goes to wake up Chan.

"Let him sleep," he waved him off. "He needs it." Felix slowly got out of bed and made his way towards the door, opening it carefully to slip out of the room.

Minho smirked and watched him leave before slipping into Chan's arms. He buried his face in his chest, inhaling his scent, and relaxed. "I love you, Channie," he whispered into his shirt and smiled as Chan scooted closer to him in his sleep. Gosh, this man was cuddly. Minho beamed softly. He would've never thought that someone would love and appreciate him as Chan did. 

-

Chan woke up later with a yawn and chuckled softly as he looked down, seeing Minho curled up in his arms. He leaned down, brushing back his hair and kissing his head. Minho cuddled even closer in response, signaling he was somewhat awake. "Feeling comfy, kitten?" 

"Very," he answered sleepily. "You slept alright?" Chan hummed in response. "Felix went to see Changbin. We thought we'd let you get some sleep." 

"My insomnia says thank you," he snorted, and Minho giggled sweetly. 

The door opened, and Felix stepped inside, looking a lot happier than before. "Glad to see you two finally awake. Are you coming down to help with dinner?" 

"Sure thing," Chan nodded and got up with him, stretching out his limbs. 

Minho gave him a soft kiss and hugged him close for another moment. "Cuddle session this evening?" 

"Sounds perfect," Chan nodded happily and kissed his forehead.

-

Jeongin looked at Chan curiously as they were preparing dinner a bit later. "What exactly have you two been doing behind closed doors recently? It’s like you’re always disappearing." 

"Wh-What? Who?" Chan asked in shock, his eyes widening. 

"You and Minho hyung," he answered with an eyebrow raise. 

Hyunjin giggled. "Maybe they're secretly in love," he smirked. Minho had to bite back a grin at that assumption. 

Minho quickly lowered his head and continued drying the dishes. A huge kitchen like that had its perks. And sometimes, his group members completely forgot he was there too, standing in front of the stove far away from him. This way, no one realized they could be bothering him with questions too. 

"Secret lovers?" Felix laughed, and the thought made his eyes shine bright. If they only knew how close they were to the truth. He met Minho's eyes across the room for a moment and held back a laugh. Jisung desperately tried not to laugh as well and disappeared into a cabinet with his head, pretending to search for a pan and holding in his giggles.

"Can you imagine our hyungs hooking up? Would that officially make them our parents?" Seungmin threw in, and Changbin shouted in protest. 

"Married with six kids," Jeongin added and glanced over at their dinner in preparation. 

"How do you all even come up with this stuff?" Chan asked playfully, laughing and rolling his eyes. 

But Minho  couldn’t help but frown softly. It wasn't like they had been hiding it that well. Of course, their group members would notice them spending way more time together than before, and oftentimes in their rooms. Minho let Chan hug him more openly than before, and just last night, they cuddled during the movie night. Also, he doubted he and Chan had been that quiet all those times they took a little risk and had sex. Like today. Things have been going on for almost a year, after all.

"You two just seem to have gotten closer recently," Jisung explained. 

"Well, you know he's been trying to cheer me up lately," he answered. 

One way to put it, Minho thought to himself and gathered some plates. He needed more space to continue cleaning. 

"Yeah, but-." 

"Nothing happened. Have you seen Minho? I call myself lucky when I get a hug from him, or when he doesn't pull his hand away from mine," Chan said, and Minho froze in place. His ears couldn’t help but to tune into the conversation. "He's not exactly the warm boyfriend material I'd need. And no, we didn't kiss either," he tried to play it cool, forgetting for a moment that Minho was right there hearing everything. 

His heart shattered at his comment, and he began to grow pale. Was he being serious? Felix and Jisung looked over at him with concern and exchanged a short look. Minho put down the plates a little too loud, making everyone flinch and turn toward him. "Is that what you think about me when you think I'm not listening? That I'm cold? Unloving? Unaffectionate?" 

Chan's face fell, as all the color drained from his skin while simultaneously allowing a deep red to settle on his neck and cheeks. "Minho," he breathed out in shock and got a raised eyebrow in return. Fuck. 

The others looked back and forth between them anxiously, unsure of what was happening. "I can tell you what happened," Minho said, and Chan opened his mouth in protest, but the look in Minho's eyes made him stop. "We kissed quite a lot actually. At least when he wasn't busy shoving his dick in my ass." 

"Minho!" Chan burst out as the rest looked at him in amusement and pure disbelief. "We had an agreement," he whispered. 

"Listen up Chan, it's one thing to pretend that nothing is going on between the two of us and staying away from you in public. That's what I agreed to," he said, his eyes never tearing away from Chan’s. "But I won't lie to the people I call my family anymore. Especially not after what you just said." 

"I-I freaked out, okay, I didn't mean it," he tried to save himself, stomach turning painfully. Changbin stared at them in shock, slowly connecting the dots before looking at Felix, who just shook his head firmly. Not now. 

"It sure sounded like you did," Minho said sadly, and a wave of fear washed over him. Had Chan felt like this about him all this time? Had it just been the sex and the thrill of affection that kept him around? Whatever it was, he didn’t want to hear it right now. "I'm done with this.”

“Baby,” Chan spoke up and calmingly held up his hands. “Come on, let’s talk this out.”

“Save it, Chan. I won't let you toy around with me like that," he said firmly and opened the cabinet above his head, putting the plates inside.

"Toy around? Is that what you think I was doing?" he asked, growing defensive. "Maybe it was you who used me. You practically threw yourself onto me when I gave you the chance. And you've been hovering since that damn night a few months ago," Chan said, trying to get himself out of the line of fire. 

Minho's face fell, and Jisung was in shock at how hurt he looked. "Threw myself - Are you fucking kidding me?" he shouted suddenly, and everyone flinched, slowly backing away from Chan to continue watching from the sidelines. 

“Oh shit,” Seungmin breathed out, and Jeongin exchanged a worried glance with him. Minho sure lost his temper a lot lately with Chan, but not like this. Especially not in front of them. 

"I risked my life to get to you that night because of your stupid message. I held you when you felt like you were falling apart. And I was the one showing you how much you're worth since you can't see that for yourself. You kissed me first, dumbass! I didn't plan on kissing you two nights after, only to have sex the next morning. And I sure as hell didn't plan on doing it again and again over the next eleven months, sneaking around behind everyone's back!" Minho aggressively slammed the cabinet closed, making Chan flinch a little.

"You didn't risk your life," Chan gave back weakly, completely overwhelmed by Minho’s sudden outburst. He fucked up big time, and he was stuck on how to fix it. 

Minho glared at him. "You, out of everyone here, should know how much I have a fear of heights. And still, I climbed over to your balcony." 

"I didn't ask you to!" Chan burst out, feeling like he was being pushed into a corner. 

"I didn't ask you to leave us all behind either, but that's what you wanted to do! You didn't just give up on yourself, you gave up on those you swore to protect. And you gave up on me! You gave up on us, Chan, and still, I stayed by your fucking side because I was too scared to lose you," he gave back just as loudly. But seeing Chan's face, he knew he said too much. Oh, shit. 

"Wait a minute, Chan did what?" Changbin spoke up, confused. Minho stared at Chan, who slowly shook his head. 

"Min, baby, please-," he begged quietly. 

"Stop calling me that," Minho said firmly. 

"Minho, don't," Chan pressed out, anxiously glancing at the others. They can’t know he had been feeling like shit lately. They can’t know he had been ready to give up and quit that night. 

"Hey! What the fuck happened?" Changbin cut them off, deciding to step in and get some answers.

"He accidentally sent his goodbye message to me. That's why I climbed out there; my fear of losing him was bigger than that stupid balcony. Turns out he was thinking about quitting on us and leaving the team behind, saying I’d do just fine as your new leader," Minho said, and his voice trembled, seeing betrayal flash in Chan's eyes. "I'm sorry, Chan, but they should know. I’ve been telling you for weeks now to be honest-."

"Fuck you," Chan said barely above a whisper. "You promised me you wouldn’t tell them," he said, clearly hurt. Now it was all out in the open. Him almost giving up. His feelings for Minho and everything that had followed those past few months. Minho let it all out, taking away his chance to tell the truth at his own pace. 

"Well, you promised you'd fight for us. So I guess we both lied," he said tiredly, hoping the conversation would finally end and he could disappear. He just wanted to hide in his room and avoid everyone. But the way Chan's eyes suddenly darkened, he knew it wasn’t over. If there was one thing he had learned about his hyung, it was that you shouldn't piss him off. Being pushed into a corner could make him snap within seconds. 

"You know what, maybe I did mean it. Maybe I meant every word I said. You are cold, Minho. You obviously don’t give a shit about my feelings and the promise you made to me. I should've known from the beginning you'd fuck me over and tell everyone about what happened because you can’t keep a secret. Stop acting like you didn't want me to fuck you so you could finally not be so fucking alone anymore and feel like you're worth something. You enjoy having someone tell you you’re not what everyone else says you are, huh? Makes you feel like a better person for once, you sassy asshole?" Chan spat out, panting heavily once the last word fell from his lips. But the moment he said it, he regretted it. He covered his mouth with his hand, unable to follow his thought process of producing such hateful words. What the fuck had he done? 

“Excuse me?” he whispered and took a step back, bringing some distance between them. Minho's eyes filled with tears, lips trembling as he tried to regain his composure. Minho could feel his heart breaking, feeling sick and disoriented. 

Chan had never seen him that hurt before and losing his composure in front of the rest. Minho never did, not wanting the younger ones to worry about him. 

"Chan, what the fuck?" Felix spoke up in pure shock and gently took Jisung's hand, which was trembling, as he stepped behind him. Jeongin and Seungmin practically hid behind Changbin and Hyunjin, who stared at their hyungs, unable to comprehend what just happened. 

“Chan, dude,” Changbin contorted his face and took a step toward Minho. “Minho hyung, he clearly didn’t mean it. There's no way any of us would think that about yo-.” he stopped as Minho held his hand up.

"So you're finally being honest with me," he chuckled and closed his eyes for a moment, putting down the towel he had been drying the dishes with. "Oh, Channie love, I'll show you just how much of an asshole I can be," he said, words dripping with disgust. Minho suddenly took a step forward and slapped Chan forcefully, making his head turn to the side. 

Chan placed his hand on his cheek in pure shock as the others gasped, surprised. "What the fuck?" Chan breathed out. 

"You're the only asshole here. I hope you had fun pretending you liked me or seen anything beyond a way to let off steam," he said shakily as tears ran down his cheeks. There was no use in hiding how hurt he was. Chan had torn his walls down and sent an arrow straight into his heart.

"Did you just hit me?" he asked in pure disbelief. 

"Yes, I fucking did!" Minho yelled at him. "You just broke my fucking heart! You'll get over it." 

Chan blinked and slowly pulled his hand off his cheek. The full weight of Minho's words slowly sunk in and he grew incredibly pale, his hands starting to shake. "Minho," he whispered timidly. "I'm so sorry." 

"Fuck you, Chan, seriously," he sobbed out and smacked his chest forcefully. Chan let him, not defending himself, as Minho lost his composure and broke down. It broke him seeing Minho like this, and the fact that he caused it feels even worse.

"Minho stop," Hyunjin said, stepping forward and pulling Chan away from him. "Come on, you're better than this." 

"Come here," Felix spoke up softly as he carefully wrapped his arms around him from behind and pulled him away from Chan, looking at his friend in shock.

Minho covered his mouth with his hand and let Felix pull him back. He didn't know if he was more hurt or angry right now. He felt betrayed on so many levels, becoming too hard to differentiate these emotions. "I believed you," he pressed out. 

"You shouldn't have," Chan whispered, tears burning in his eyes. 

He hiccuped as tears kept flowing. “You told me not to believe in all the things they said about me and bullshit rumors that were going to spread about us.”

"I'm sorry, Min," Chan pressed out weakly. "I'm an asshole, and you deserve better." 

"Stop it, just fucking stop it! Please…" Minho shook his head and felt his heart breaking apart. He should’ve never believed in a happy ending for them. He shouldn't have believed him saying he'd fight for them. He shouldn't have believed him when he said haters were lying and Minho wasn't anything like what they said. 

"Minho hyung, let's take a break and-," Seungmin started but stopped as Minho gently shook Felix off, grabbed his phone from the table, and turned around. He didn't look at his friends as he passed them. Hyunjin tried to hold him back, but he just shook him off, holding back a sob. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Felix snapped at Chan. "How could you say something like that?"

"Felix, easy now," Changbin tried to calm his boyfriend. It wasn't like Minho walked away innocently from this. 

"No, why would you defend that? We all saw it happen!" Felix asked him, highly irritated. 

"Felix," Minho cut him off sharply. "That's my mess, not yours. Leave it be."

"Minho, can we talk? Alone?" Chan asked with tears in his eyes. His breathing was uneven and shaky, trying to hold back a sob. There was an imprint of Minho's hand on his cheek, his lips quivered and for a second Minho hesitated, seeing the damage he caused him. 

He couldn't leave him there crying, could he? Not when he was the only one taking care of him whenever he did. But then again…he couldn't comfort him. Not now, not after all he’s done. "Fuck you, I won't be listening to any more of your lies," Minho said firmly before walking upstairs. 

Chan didn't dare to raise his head until Minho's door slammed closed. He could barely meet his group members' eyes as he swallowed hard. "I'm sorry," he whispered and blinked back tears. "I'm so sorry, fuck," he buried his face in his hands as a sob shook his entire body. The moment Jeongin wrapped his arms around him, heavily shaking himself, Chan's stomach turned. He didn't deserve any comfort right now. Not after what he did to Minho, his love. A few moments later, they all were by his side, too shocked about what Minho had revealed to think of anything else. 

"You're so fucking stupid sometimes, Chan," Changbin said and shook his head at him. “What the fuck was that about?”

"I promise I can explain everything," Chan said shakily and swallowed hard. 

Felix cleared his throat and met Chan's eyes. "I love you, Channie, I really do…but what you just said to him was fucked up on so many levels. You need to fix this. And fast. I can't leave him alone like that," Chan nodded in agreement and let the others pull him to the sofa to sit down. 

"I'll join you," Jisung said, very disturbed about Chan's outburst. 

Chp. 6 | Chp. 8

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/ removed from the taglist)

@soullostinspaceandtime @brownieloved @rebecca-johnson-28 @euphoric-univers @hyunniebunni @mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies