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captain-huggy-bear · 15 hours ago

Text

The Puck-cident

Pairing: Clayton Keller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Blood, vomit, injury, hurt/comfort

Summary: You are the unfortunate soul that takes a puck to the face during one of Utah's games, Clayton sees whole thing and demands to be let off the ice.

Notes: By popular demand I have finally gotten around to this fic ☺️This turned out to be like 5.5k so...enjoy?

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

Everyone always knows there's a risk involved with sitting in the audience at an ice hockey game. The announcers at every game never fail to remind people that pucks can travel at well over 80mph and can go into the audience. Always reminding people to keep their eyes on the puck. But, no one actually ever thinks it'll hit them. You've seen your fair share of pucks caught in the crowds, you've never seen someone get injured.

You've been to so many ice hockey games that maybe you've been lulled into a false sense of security, a sense that nothing bad could possible happen to you, not when you're sat in the stands to watch your boyfriend play. Not when you're wearing his jersey, Keller plastered across the back, number 9 bold and clear. Not when you feel so at home in that space, so secure. Turns out you're terribly wrong.

Normally Clayton's eyes wouldn't have followed the puck as it went out of bounds, normally he'd have sighed and moved to the new faceoff circle, caring very little for what fan had managed to catch it. Normally, he'd be more concerned with the fact that they were in a two goal deficit. But, something made him stop on the ice today, something made him follow the puck with his eyes to its end destination. Eyes widening in horror as the scene started to play in slow motion while he was utterly helpless on the ice, stood there with his grip slacking on his stick.

Clayton never imagined that it would be dangerous for you to come to one of his games because fans getting hit by pucks? Getting genuinely hurt? That seemed like such a fluke incident and you'd never been hurt before, not in all the years you'd been coming to his games. Even before you were with him you'd gone to ice hockey games, not once had you had an issue. But, it sinks in, the reality of it, that it does happen and can happen to you. That it's happening to you right now and he can't do anything to stop it.

The piece of vulcanised rubber that had flown off the stick of the opposing team flies over the glass into the stands and he watches like some sort car crash, a sick slow motion view as the puck finds you, like your name was written on it. It's hard to tell from this distance how hurt you are, or where you were hit, but he can see the crowd writhing around you, the panicked yells telling him enough.

Enough that Clayton's skating towards the bench as fast as he can, shrugging off teammates and referees who try to insist he stays, who keep asking him what's wrong and where he's going. His coach tries the same, stepping in his path, confused as to where Clay's off to in the middle of a game as the captain of the team.

"Keller, what do you think you're doing?"

"Respectfully, Bear, my girlfriend just got hit by a puck going nearly 90mph. I'm going to see if she's alright." His tone is short, clipped, trying to be respectful of his coach, a man he does respect and admire. But he's made up his mind and nothing and no one is going to stop him from going to you right now. He'd sooner quite hockey entirely than play a whole game unsure if you're alright after being injured.

"Keller, the game..."

"Fuck the game, you've got enough players. I need to see her, coach." Maybe it's the wild look in his eyes, the way panic stands out stark and clear. Maybe it's the tense set of his shoulders or the fact that his stick creaks so hard under his grip that it sounds like it may crack. Whatever it is, he isn't yelled at like he expects, no one tells him to go back out on the ice.

Instead Tourigny steps aside letting him past as Clayton storms down the tunnel, passing his stick off to someone. He's barely aware of the fact he takes off his skates, shoving them in someone's arms before he's running out towards the entrance to the stands in just his socks, the only thought on his mind being you and whether you were okay right now.

It's hard to describe what goes through your head when you see the puck coming straight for you, a blind sort of panic that has you freezing in your seat, not that you had anywhere to go to avoid it, not at the speed it had come at you. You're in such shock that you don't really feel much after the initial impact, head buzzing and dazed, neck hurting from the snap of your head backwards, ears ringing as people around you start fussing over you. Someone has you up out of your seat, your arm around their shoulders helping you out of the stands. The feeling of wetness glides down your temple and you raise a hand to your face that comes away red, noticing almost numbly that you're bleeding, blood running down the side of your face, upset because it starts to drip on Clay's jersey, the white one he'd lent you. The fabric being stained, ruined.

"Keller has left the ice, rather abruptly, we're unsure if it's related to the fan in the crowd who's taken a puck to the head or not." Someone has the game station on, clearly enjoying having the commentators speak during the game, the crowd is so loud as you're all but hauled up the stairs to the exit of the stands. You have just enough awareness to wonder if Clayton had seen you get hit or whether he'd been hurt on the ice himself or wasn't feeling well.

You feel like you're going to be sick as you're helped into the main entrance of the arena, lights blinding you, head pounding, the numbness starting to fade in favour of such blistering, aching pain in your head that you can't help but start crying. You feel pathetic, scared, panicked and in pain. You just want Clayton but he should be playing a game right now and the realisation that you couldn't have him with you only makes you cry harder.

It turned into full on sobs when your dizzy, double vision locks on to Clay who's running in just a pair of socks towards you, frantic, helmet being tossed behind him to someone. There's two of him, your vision going in and out but you're so happy to see him that it doesn't matter. So happy that he's here that you can almost ignore the pain, the nausea, and the blood.

He's got you in his arms before you can even comprehend reaching for him, whoever had helped you this far taking a step back to let him take over. He's petrified, you look horrific, blood coating the side of your face and neck, red clotting around your temple. Your eyes unfocused, the white of his jersey bloodstained, tears streaming down your face and he knows someone's calling the first aid team, but it doesn't reassure him when you look like that.

Clay's hands cup the sides your face, your blood is sticky against his palm and he knows he shouldn't be, knows its not anyone's real fault, but he's irrationally angry. Angry at the other team for sending the puck off into the stands, angry at you for always insisting you sit like a normal fan rather than in the box for family and friends, angry at himself for not insisting, angry at Tourigny for trying to stop him from coming to find you, angry that he wasn't with you when it happened. Angry because the alternative is fear and he's not sure he's ready to feel that right now, not sure he can, needing to keep it together for you because you're still crying, clutching onto him like he's the only thing that can bring you comfort right now. He can't help the way he grips you back tightly, trying to reassure himself that you're okay, even as blood keeps flowing from the split skin of your temple.

"You're going to be okay, baby, I've got you...It's okay." It's not, fuck, it's not, but he's trying to stay calm for you, a blank mask on his face rather than blind panic as he watches a stretcher be wheeled towards you. Runs his fingers through your hair in an attempt to soothe you and himself at the same time, he knows his hands are shaking so fucking badly and he hopes you don't notice, hope you feel reassured by him, feel like he's steady, stable.

"We need her on the stretcher, Keller, so we can have a look at her." Clay's attention goes to the first aiders behind you, the stretcher pulled close enough that all you have to do is step back and jump up.

"It hurts, Clay..." You're sniffling into his shoulder, blood getting on the jersey he's wearing, not that he cares. The equipment team are used to getting blood out of things. Two bloody jerseys is nothing in the grand scheme of things.

"I know, baby, oh, I know...I'm just going to give you a little boost up, okay? We're going to get you sat up here, okay?" He talks you through each step as his hands find your waist, helping you jump up onto the stretcher. The movement makes you dizzy, nausea filling you to the point where you know you're going to be sick, desperately trying to keep it in, being unable to. You can't help it when you're sick...all over Clay, head leaning forward between your legs as you vomit over his legs, whimpering as you do so.

"I'm sorry...I've got blood on your jersey and now..." You're crying harder now, embarrassment and shame added to the whole issue because you've just vomited over your boyfriend's expensive hockey gear after bleeding over 2 different jerseys. But, Clay doesn't flinch, hands stroking your hair as you lean forward to quell the dizziness. Is it gross? Oh, totally, does he actually care? Not really. It's testament to how much he loves you that the grossness doesn't matter, he'd let you vomit on him a million times so long as he can look after you in the process.

"It's okay, baby, I need you to lay back, okay? They're going to check on your head..." His hands are gentle on your shoulders, pushing you back while helping you swing your legs straight on the stretcher. Clay's fingers brush back your hair as he looks down at your hazy gaze, "I need to go change real quick and I'll be right back, sweet girl."

When he goes to step back you're grabbing his hand with the precision of a star goalie, even with the double vision and haziness you manage to find his hand. The grip you have on him is so tight, scared for him to leave you, scared you'll be alone like this. Even as you know he's covered in blood and vomit and needs to change, deserves to change.

He's right back to stroking your cheek, backs of his fingers gentle on your skin like he's afraid you might break, "I'll be right back, you're not going anywhere without me."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

He tells the medical staff not to go anywhere with you without him. The fear of coming back to find you gone roiling in his stomach, not really wanting to leave you alone but knowing he can't stand here covered in sick. He's so quick, running down the corridors to the locker room to limit how long he's gone. The speed with which he takes off the vomit soaked clothes and sweat stained uniform is probably record breaking and despite the smell of sick he doesn't even contemplate a shower, just throws on some old sweats and a t-shirt, shoving his feet into a pair of sneakers before bolting back to where he left you. He can take a shower later, once he knows you're okay, once you're both back home.

You're lying back on the stretcher with one of the first aiders, Clay thinks his name is John, leaning over you, shining a torch in your eyes to check for a concussion when Clay returns. He can tell already that you have one between the dizziness, vomiting and the way you seem to wince at any and all light. It doesn't take a genius to realise the puck to the face has rocked your brain a little too hard.

The middle age first aid looks up at Clayton as he finishes checking you over, Clay coming up on your other side to grab your hand again. The way you look at him, so trusting, so happy to just have him back makes his heart skip a little even as it breaks at how tired and in pain you look.

"She has a concussion and needs stitches, we're not allowed to do them here as she's a member of the public, she needs to go to hospital. It might also be a good idea to get an x-ray, make sure she's not got a fracture or anything like that." John turns to Clayton, pocketing the flashlight. It's not what he wants to hear, Clay would rather hear that you're perfectly fine, but it's obvious you're not. Still panic closes his throat at the thought that you might have something even more seriously like a fracture or worse.

"Does she need an ambulance or can I drive her?" Either way Clayton's coming with you, whether in the back of an ambulance or in the driver's seat of his car. He'll deal with the aftermath of leaving the game later, but right now? You're his priority and he's not leaving you.

"Probably quicker for you to take her yourself, Keller. I can help you wheel her to your car?"

"Thanks, that'd be great, John."

"No problem."

Clay has your hand in his, walking alongside the stretcher as John wheels it down to the parking lot. You're dazed and slightly giddy, laughing at each bump despite the pain and that's more concerning to Clay than the crying. A cloth has been put to your head, held there by your free hand, knuckles tight like you're working off instinct just to keep it there. He's not sure you'd be able to release it with how tight your grip is. He knows head wounds bleed a lot, but that doesn't make seeing the cloth already red with blood, any easier or less worrying.

Clayton's decided he has a new appreciation for how you feel whenever he gets injured on the ice. It's...God, it might be one of the worst things he's ever had to go through.

He's proven right, that you can't seem to let that cloth go when he helps you down from the stretcher and to his car, your hand doesn't move, cloth pressed to stem the flow of blood even when you stumble. He has you in the passenger seat and buckled in as quickly as possible and maybe he breaks a few traffic laws on the way to the hospital, but anyone would. The way you're barely there next to him, so dazed that he's worried the concussion might be something more has him pressing a little harder on the accelerator.

The blood is enough in the emergency room for you to be fast tracked to a doctor and a bed, struggling to sit upright he makes the decision to get up on the bed with you. You rest between his legs, leaning back on him heavily, Clayton the only thing keep you sat upright as the doctor, Dr Pandya, pries the cloth from your hand and assesses the wound.

You shy back into him when the doctor wipes away at the large cut with antiseptic to clean away the blood, only for more to come spilling forth. Clay's arms wrapping tight around your waist, linking your hands with his to give you something to grip onto.

"You need stitches, it's not going to close on its own."

"Okay..." He can tell you're trying to be brave, breathing suddenly heavier, fingers tightening around his until his own start to go numb, but he doesn't complain. Just lets you lean on him, seek support from him.

You're brave throughout the 14 stitches it takes to close up the cut on your temple, more stitches than you've ever had to have in your life. But, you don't complain, don't ask to stop, don't hiss, just let it happen as you grip onto Clay with everything you have. The warmth of his back behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder, pressing kisses to your neck, helps. Having him with you helps.

"All done. You have a concussion and need to rest for at least 2 days before you do anything. Avoid bright lights, loud areas. Keep those stitches dry for at least a day, so no washing your hair just yet unfortunately. If it starts to bruise, ice it."

The doctors turns to Clay this time, "If she starts to seem confused, keeps vomiting or just doesn't seem to be getting any better then bring her back in. But she should be tired for the next few days but start to feel better soon."

"Thank you," You're quiet but polite, not wanting to be rude when someone has taken the time to help you even if it is the doctor's job to do so.

"Thanks, Doc."

There's a quick sort of turn around in which Clay fills out the necessary paper work, financial details, insurance and the like before he's helping you up and out of emergency room.

All you want is to sleep, curl up in bed with Clayton and hide from the pounding in your head, the bright lights and loud sounds of the outside world only making it worse.

He's calmer on the drive home, no more traffic laws being broken even if he grips the steering wheel a little tight and keeps glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, assessing. Some of the panic has eased, but not all. You're still hurt. Concussed, stitched up, definitely going to bruise and swell, and in need of rest. Rest he can't be there for the entire time because of his job. He might have gotten away with leaving the game tonight, but he knows he'll be expected at practice tomorrow, knows he'll be expected at the home game the day after and that means hours of time in which you're alone. He hates the idea of it, already running through a mental list of people he could call.

"I got blood on your jersey..." You're sniffling again when he pulls the car into the driveway, putting it in park. He turns in his seat, leaning an arm on the headrest to watch you. You're staring at the blood stains on the jersey you're wearing, tears dripping down your cheeks and it's...it's so silly and so sweet that some of that panic eases further.

"It's okay, baby, the equipment guys can get the blood out."

"Really?" You look at him so hopefully, so innocently happy. He hates that your reaction is like that because of your injury, at the same time finding it amusing, a small smile reaching his lips for the first time since he saw you take a puck to the face.

"Yeah, baby, they're great at that..."

"Oh..."

There's a beat of silence where you just blink at him, sighing out each breath like even that's too tiring right now. There's blood crusted around your stitches that he knows you're going to get annoyed with while you can't get water near them, bruising starting to pop up around that side of your face, swelling beginning to show and make you look a little lopsided.

"Let's get you inside and into some comfy clothes, yeah? You tired?"

"Really tired..." You blink all slow at him, eyelids feeling supremely heavy and he knows you're going to be out like a light the moment he gets you into the bed. That's reassuring in a way, that you'll find it easy to rest, at least tonight, before the aches fully settle in.

He's tries to be quick getting round to your side of the car but he's starting to feel just as tired. A combination of playing half a game of pro-hockey, the anxiety, panic and worry over your wellbeing, being thrown up on, going all the way to hospital and back, all working to make Clayton feel like dropping where he stands. But, like always you're his priority.

His hands reach for yours, tugging gently to pull you from the car, "Okay, out you get, baby." You go willingly, letting him guide you from the car and through the house. Letting your brain shut off because he's got you. You trust him to guide you around obstacles, through doorways, a level of trust that Clayton can't help but feel honoured by as you let him sit you on the edge of your shared bed.

You blink up at him all slow and sleepy, shoulders slumping and he's certain if you laid down you'd be out in seconds.

"Arms up, baby." You don't question him, don't hesitate, arms straight in the air with the sort of sluggishness that tells him even doing that feels hard right now.

Clay's careful of your hair and your stitches as he pulls the bloodstained jersey over your head, throwing it in a corner to take back to the rink to salvage. You leave your hands up as he helps you out of your undershirt and replaces it with one of your favourite big comfy t-shirts. You don't drop your arms until he tells you to, the sort of obedience you fall into around him because he takes care of you so well that you trust him more than you trust yourself.

"Wanna shower..."

"You can't get your stitches wet yet, sweet girl, tomorrow night I'll help you shower, but not tonight, okay?"

"Okay..." He knows you hate it, your routine is like clockwork. Every evening you shower, washing the dirt and grime of the day away, and breaking that is upsetting to you. But, you trust him. You listen without protest and let him lay you back so he can wriggle your jeans down over your hips and off your ankles, socks coming with.

"Up for me, baby." You reach for him from the first word, arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his chains as he lifts you to your feet, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist as he pulls the covers back.

He settles you in against your pillow, swinging your legs up and pulling the covers up to your waist as you cling to him. Your fingers don't detach from his chains, holding tight to him so that he can't pull away, hovering over you.

He's so handsome, maybe it's the concussion talking, but he's always so handsome. Your free hand reaches for his cheek, tracing the skin beneath his eyes and he can't help but smile at you, at the soft way you're gazing up at him. Still dazed, but oh so loving.

"You okay, baby?" He huffs a laugh down at you, teeth peeking out and you love that smile, god it makes him so pretty. So, so pretty. Even prettier when one of his hands cups your cheek like that, long finger stroking the skin gently where your cheek lifts from grinning up at him all dozy.

"Mmm, you're really pretty."

"I think that's your concussion talking, sweet girl." His fingers graze the swollen skin by your stitches lightly, not hard enough to hurt or sting, but a reminder to himself that you've got 14 stitches right now. That right now you're brain is a little scrambled.

"Nuh uh...you're always pretty...I got really lucky." You might be concussed but you know it's true. Clayton's so handsome you spend half your time wondering how you managed to bag him because he could have any woman he wanted and instead he chose you. This handsome, beautiful, kind, caring man, a pro-athlete, and he chose you. Normal, little old you.

"Wrong way around, I'm the lucky one. You took a puck to the face for me, that's pretty hardcore, baby." The blood around your stitches is dry and flaky, proof that today wasn't just a dream or imaginary. Proof that his girlfriend had taken a puck to the face, survived and only vomited once, pretty hardcore.

"Didn't mean to..."

"I know...it worried me though, just glad you're okay."

His fingers caress your skin as silence over takes the two of you, just gazing at each other as each of you feel the other under your fingers. To feel the way you graze the tip of his nose, how you tug a little on his chains to bring him just an inch closer. It's grounding to have you in his hands like that, to feel your warmth, to know you're going to be fine even if he'd been scared today. The whole thing has just solidified in his mind how much he loves you, how much he'd be willing to do for you, to give up for you. That you're it for him whether you realise that or not.

You take a shuddering breath, eyes shifting away from his like you're embarrassed by what you're going to say next even as your fingers tighten around his chains and keep him close. His blue eyes fixed on you, attention unwavering and loyal.

"I was...I was scared I'd be alone...just wanted you..." Your head isn't quite as fuzzy as earlier, but you can remember it clearly. Feeling the panic at the thought that you wanted Clay but he wouldn't be there...then the joy at seeing him, the relief as he ran out in full gear except skates, socks only on his feet.

"You thought I wouldn't be there?"

"You had a game...a-and I didn't know if you'd seen it happen...thought you'd still be playing." It's like you're ashamed for thinking he wouldn't be there, and while he hates that you did, he understands why. There was no guarantee he'd have even know you were hurt, it was just by some fluke of luck, by sheer chance that he'd actually watched the puck fly into the crowd for once. Even then, in some arenas would he have even been able to tell it was you?

"They'd have had to chain me to Schmaltz to keep me on the ice, baby. Always going to be there for you, no matter what. You first. Hockey second." He means it. Hockey has been his life since he could put on a pair of skates, and he'd worked hard for it, always having to do 10 times what the bigger guys did and do it 10 times better. But, you? You're it for him you'll be it for him when he retires from hockey, when he can no longer play and that? That's worth more than a game, even a game he loves. It's practically a proposal in itself, a promise to you because he never wants you to think he'd pick the game over you, especially not when you're hurt.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." The smile you give him is blinding, so full of love that he wants to bottle it, memorise it to keep for those bad days. For the days when they've lost a game, for the times when he needs a reminder to keep pushing, to keep going.

"Come to bed?" You try to tug him again by his chains but he unfurls your fingers gentle, one by one, smoothing over your knuckles in reassurance.

"I've got to shower baby, but I don't want to leave you alone..." The idea of taking his eyes off you, of not being able to see that you're okay for even a minute makes him feel sick.

"You smell like vomit..." You wrinkle up your nose, scrunching your face like you've only just realise that he smells. Your hands pushing on his shoulders a little, moving him away rather than closer and he can't say he blames you. Even he's over the smell now.

"That's your fault, baby."

"'m sorry..." You mumble, warmth flooding your face at the memory of throwing up on him, his hockey gear taking the brunt of it rather than the floor.

"It's okay, I'll go shower, but you'll okay if I leave you for a few minutes?"

You nod your head gently, carefully because nodding too much hurts right now. Clayton presses a quick kiss to your forehead, avoiding the swollen areas of your face before leaving you.

He's no nonsense about it all, washing with a precision and speed that would make the army consider recruiting him. He's thorough, however, skin scrubbed down until he smells like your vanilla body wash and not vomit.

Clay doesn't faff with clothes, just shoves a pair of boxers on and curls up next to you, you're already asleep, mouth open slightly, the tiniest hint of drool at the corners. Endearing. He wraps an arm around your waist, dragging you gently closer until he can curl around you like that might keep you safe from any further puck based incidents.

Clay doesn't sleep...not well at least. He spends half the night just watching you breathe, scared that if he closes his eyes something might happen. A total of 3 hours all he gets, so when the doorbell rings shrill and loud at 7am all he can do is groan loudly and burrow his face into your shoulder.

The doorbell rings again and he's swearing under his breath because if it's a sales person or a cold caller he might actually commit a crime. All he wants it to stay curled up with you, maybe get some more sleep now you seem a little perkier, eyes blinking open and more coherent than they were yesterday.

"Clay...the door." It's your worry about ignoring it that has him groaning, stretching and shoulders popping as he stumbles out of bed.

"I know, baby...stay here."

He doesn't even bother putting on clothes, just walks to the door in his boxers. Your head might still be fuzzy but you can't help the way your eyes trail over his back, the way his arse looks in his boxes, the thick set of his thighs. You're almost certain he puts an extra little saunter in his step because you're watching.

He kind of hopes whoever has disturbed his rest with his injured girlfriend gets the shock of their life seeing him open the door in just his boxers. Unfortunately, it's just Kesselring, who has seen him in his boxers more times than he can count, completely unphased.

"What're you doing here, Kess?"

"Came to check on Mrs Keller and brought a gift," The taller man holds up a little gift bag and as much as Clayton wants to slam the door in his face he doesn't, just stepping aside to let Kess in.

He leads him to you, where you're wrapped up in all the bed blankets, making yourself a little cocoon and your face brightens at seeing one of your favourite members of his team. Kess is only your favourite because he lets you go round to see the cats whenever you want, whether he's there or not. Or that's what Clayton says to ease any of that ugly little jealous side he has that occasionally rears it's head. Even knowing that Kess treats you more like a sister than anything else.

"For you Mrs Keller," Kess hands you the gift bag even as you swat at him weakly. He'd been calling you that ever since Clayton announced you were dating...the alternative wasn't much better, referring to you as the team mom because Clayton was the team dad.

"Thank you, Michael," You pull out a wad of tissue paper, unfurling it to reveal the last thing Clayton ever wanted to see.

"You brought the thing that nearly killed my girlfriend into the house?" He's actually irrationally angry at the rubber. The black has been cleaned, not a speak of your blood on it and the edge has been covered in white stick tape. In black sharpie, 'the puck-cident March 2025' has been written in Kess' chicken scratch handwriting.

"Kells, it's a puck."

"It nearly killed my girlfriend. It's evil." He sneers at the inanimate object in your hands.

"Clay," you're laughing at him, giggling at the way he glares at a piece of rubber, "It's sweet...Michael, it's very sweet." You turn to the taller man, smiling up at him because it is thoughtful in a weird sort of hockey logic way. To bring you the puck that gave you 14 stitches, like it was some gaming winning puck you scored with.

"Well, figured you might want a souvenir from your puck-cident," Kess grins at both you, the pun so bad that Clayton and yourself are both groaning at him.

Clayton pointing to the door, this time with humour in voice, head shaking, "Out! That was so fucking bad, man!"

"I'm going, cap, Jesus! A guy can't do anything nice these days! What a pucking crime!"

"Kess!"

#huggy bear writes #clayton keller x reader #clayton keller/reader #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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weekdaysend · 2 days ago

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My SentOpLita 1AM relationship chart I did not think I'd be psycho-analyzing this dynamic as much as I thought I would..

#ok but like. even BEFORE the incident Im going to assume based off everything shown to me from the show #they were already really bad for each other sorry to say #Sentinel is a person who refuses to take accountability for almost anything #Elita seemingly encouraged and even accompanied his little schemes they did #and Optimus has a horrible case of people pleasing and crippling self-insecurity so of course he'd just go along with whatever the hell #which resulted in the incident that occured in the first place #and then post incident both of them fully blaming Optimus (And Sentinel but form B.A's side) for what happened and him just.#letting them with almost little to no push back ohhhh Optimus you gotta get out fo there #go to the club man you cannot fix these two freaks #they suck for each other but theyre the only people who can understand each other because they have a shared trauma no one else relates to.#they are bound by an unfortunate circumstance that was only made worse by their authoritarian. functionist-based society #like ohhhh they all need therapy. everyone in this damn show does but case in point #okay rant over I jsut. had to get them out of my mind GET OUT OF MY MIND PALACE!!!#sigh.... I love you Web of Lies my favorite toxic polycule..#transformers #transformers animated #sentinel prime #optimus prime #elita 1 #maccadam

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knnichs · 2 days ago

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D-DAY!

even as student-atheletes, they're bound to mess up on court atleast once, right? or: random things i think have happened to the players during a game

c. xilonen, mualani, lumine, yoimiya, cheveruse, zhongli, aether, xiao, kinich, scaramouche, kazuha, ga ming, sethos

t. set in highschool/uni au, characters are playing in mixed uaap games (shh just pretend,) crack & fluff, mentions of injury, wc. 0.7k

taglist. @thestarswhisper @honeyney @pneumosia @tragedy-of-commons @gl4di0lus @ariadnehelx @azuresaqua @mikashisus -> join the taglist here!

author notes at the end!

SETTERS

XILONEN has messed up her set more than ONCE in a single match. No matter how much of a good setter she was-sometimes her fingers would slip and the ball would bounce right on her face. She'd stay frozen with her hands in the air in a way that she thinks what happened was just unbelievable. But of course, she manages to give back the points with her float serves. (It's literally almost impossible to receive it properly.)

ZHONGLI and AETHER are the only two setters for the mens team. Wriothesley had signaled their coach to substitute Zhongli. (he was having trouble keeping up the pace (he's been playing since the first point until third set, leave him alone.) They ended up getting a violation for having 7 players on court. Aether looked at him in disbelief after realizing Zhongli had completely forgotten to get out of court.

HITTERS

There was a time in XIAO's volleyball career where everytime he jumped for an attack, he'd curl his body way too much to the point he looks like a shrimp. It wasn't until he watched the game replays a month later that he realized he looked stupid doing it. Xiao was a quick learner, with a few practice sessions, he was able to fix his form. (There are still times when he does it unconsciously. In that case, Kinich is quick to remind him.)

KINICH jumps abnormally high for his height. There was a time when Ga ming had the grand idea to try out his plyometrics routine only to find out 50 box jumps was not it. The team is scared that he'd get an ACL tear at some point with how often he was jumping-so most of the time they bench him and bring him out only when the score is close. He struggles with beach volleyball though, and he can't jump properly on sand.

MUALANI and LUMINE have been training with Kinich ever since their teams went up against each other for a beach volleyball tournament. Even with his clear difficulty playing on the sand, he was still able to time his jumps perfectly. Thanks to the workouts-Mualani now has insane hang time, and Lumine is still trying to perfect the timing. The two were incredibly excited to show their newly learned skills during a game-so when Beidou let them play a scrimmage with the mens team, Mualani and Lumine accidentally bumped into each other mid air trying to hit the ball.

SCARAMOUCHE has somehow always gotten a red card during mixed tournaments. The referee keeps telling him to readjust his swing when hitting since if it hit someone in the face-it would surely leave a nasty injury behind. He didn't listen, says it was a skill issue, but the moment he almost hit their libero-Cheveruse-he told Zhongli to stop setting the ball to him for the rest of the match.

MIDDLES

Unfortunately, KAZUHA is the type to try doing a jump serve during a tournament and completely fail. It's either the ball goes way too high (to the point where it reaches the nosebleed seats in the arena,) or it goes right below the net and hits his teammates back/head.

YOIMIYA never fails to steal the second ball from the setter every game. Beidou is kinda sick of always reminding her to give it to the setter, but Xilonen is just glad it's one more thing off her to-do list. Atleast now she didn't have to worry about the accuracy of getting it to Mualani (again, thanks to Kinich, she can also jump abnormally high.)

LIBEROS

GA MING and SETHOS did shotgun for their drill once in preparation for a tune-up game. Wherein they would stand in the middle of the half court, and 4 hitters would stay in the corners of the court continuously feeding spikes to them.) Sethos got dizzy just trying to turn fast enough so the ball wouldn't hit his face-and Ga ming was already hit on his foot, and twice on his head CONSECUTIVELY. The two were out of service for the rest of the day, the team needs to learn how to function without a libero anyway.

CHEVERUSE is the libero that comes in for the first 6, she's incredibly talented with her defense-her receives always going right to the setter perfectly. She still has her off days, and she found out the moment she calls for the service and it goes all the way outside. Yanfei would be quick to cheer her on so she'd get the motivation to get the next ball. Next service comes, and the ball still goes out of bounds. It got so bad she, herself, asked Yanfei to sub.

@ knnichs 2023 ﹑ do not repost, republish, translate, feed to ai or modify any of my works. doing so can and will result into me blocking you.

reblogs with comments are INCREDIBLY appreciated! go scream go feral idc i will eat all of them up and run away with a familiarly shaped reblog in my mouth, thank you.

guys im literally gonna combust exam week is eating me up i have 5 projects due tomorrow NO LATE SUBMISSIONS UM? ?????? nayway im wokring on the valentines event dw im just ... trying to escape from studying THANKS

OH YEAH to give u guys a clearer view of their positions (i love volleyball ) here u go

MENS: (wrio is team capt & oppo hitter!)

FIRST 6: zhongli - setter, xiao - open hitter, kinich - oppo hitter, scaramouche - open hitter, kazuha - middle, sethos - libero

SECOND 6: aether - setter, ga ming - libero

WOMENS: (beidou team capt & oppo hitter as well!!)

FIRST 6: xilonen - setter, mualani - open hitter, lumine - open hitter, cheveruse - libero

SECOND 6: yoimiya - middle, yanfei - libero

#—stellaronhvnters.#genshin #genshin x reader #mualani x reader #lumine x reader #yoimiya x reader #cheveruse x reader #zhongli x reader #aether x reader #xiao x reader #kinich x reader #scaramouche x reader #kazuha x reader #ga ming x reader #sethos x reader #xilonen x reader

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bbadandboujee · 10 hours ago

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SOLAR RETURN CHART OBSERVATIONS ݁ᛪ༙💋

mk cus…why is nobody making solar return observations anymore? like you deadazz?? lmk if y’all want a part 2!

OBSERVATIONS:

libra rising: YES YOU WILL CHANGE YOUR ENTIRE AESTHETIC! literally i went from a fucking bum to a whole baddie! i feel like with this placement your skin gets very clear very pretty! you’ll also be interested in anything dealing with the arts, like for example drawing & music, new people will quite literally know you for being attractive/beautiful, however nobody talks about how your butt gets fat with this placement? like lowkey before i had this placement i was shaped like a door fr.

venus in the 6h: ultimate glow up!! especially with your health! going to the gym, or just intaking in foods that are healthy and nutritious! with this placement i feel like you’ll most likely attract many suitors, and also it’s definitely up to you if you wish to pursue them. could have a gym crush with this placement, also intuitively i got that going to museums can be therapeutic for you, or simply listening to music daily could also be therapeutic too. also going to therapy with this placement could be beneficial for you.

uranus in the 12h: worse year ever, you could go thru something traumatic and your mental health won’t be the same. depending on where the ruler of the 12h is can tell you what’s bound to happen or what triggers it.

uranus transit the 12h: mk so ik this is a solar return chart post lol, but i needed to include this in here, having this in the transit chart can indicate going thru something spiritual, like out of this world, for some it can indicate that you will meet God and it can change your life forever. in my personal experience i’ve been having a lot of spiritual encounters, seeing a bunch of feathers in my mirror was one of them as well as seeing tiny light blue lights around my light bulb, as i was seeing them it would come for like 10 seconds and it would disappear, i’m still going thru this transit, if you have this lmk how it went!

uranus in the 8h solar return chart: TW: death i had this placement last year and my childhood friend died, it was so unexpected and shocking honestly, i remember i would cry like every now and then thinking about her death, the ruler of the 8h was in the 5h as well, and the thing that sucked was that she was going down a dark path, and i wished i could’ve been the one to at least talk to her bc we all need at least someone to talk to yk? after her death it was just hard honestly to take it all in. but may she rest in peace, i know she’s at peace now and that’s all that matters.

mars in the 11h: i was surrounded by fake people, multiple group chats outside of a damn group chat, people didn’t even like each other in the group, everyone was negative, bitches was delusional, and just ew like wish i could erase that part of my life omg?? i couldn’t even defend myself at that time either bc it was like i was only like 16? didn’t know shit about life or even friendships i was living in the moment fr, but yeah with this placement make sure to keep that eye out for selener..if yk yk lol. surround yourself with people who not only love you for you but who care about you, because honestly fuck them bitches who dislike you!! they’re not on your level fren.

9h stellium: you could travel or get into spirituality! also if the planets are beneficial you could do extremely well academically. you may learn something new overall, you’ll likely have a positive mindset, this is specific but you could have a mentor that gives you wisdom in life and you’ll never forget what they’ve told you, their words will always stick to you like glue.

mk thats it friend!! sorry if this was short 💔💔, but i hoped you enjoyed boo!

#solar return #solar return chart #astroblr #astro community #astro observations #astro notes #astrology #astroloji #predictive astrology

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would-you-punt-them · 3 hours ago

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Your technology curse is my roman empire.

Honestly, for the past couple of months I've been having more tech problems than usual, and if anyone has an explanation for this I'd love to hear it.

It started last year when my desktop finally stopped working; it would power on, attempt to start up, and then immediately shut itself down again.

I decided to just leave it, because for as long as I can remember it's always kinda done whatever it feels like. Like, I have to unplug it when I go to sleep because it likes to turn itself on in the middle of the night for literally no reason.

I thought maybe if I just left it alone, there was a chance it would eventually decide to wake itself up on its own. But after a while it became pretty clear that this really was the end. I mean, the thing was pretty old and already barely functional, so it was bound to die sooner or later.

I left it at home collecting dust for a couple months until I went back for the holidays. When I got back, I tried it again, and still nothing.

If modern technology had failed, then clearly the only reasonable solution was to tap into what little vestiges of dark power I still possessed to summon its soul back to the material plane in a profane ritual. Also I was super bored and didn't have anything else going on that day and desparately needed something to do.

So, I spent that afternoon using salt to draw out what I imagined a magic circle might look like, put the computer in the centre, covered all the windows and then spent two hours in a dark room pretending to commune with its machine spirit dwelling on the other side or whatever.

I swear to god, two days later the stupid thing turned itself on at like 1 in the morning for the first time in three months. Then the next day the lights in my room stopped working with zero warning.

For some reason ever since then my life has basically operated on the law of equivalent exchange; whenever one thing is miraculously fixed, within 24 hours something else will inexplicably break.

Someone came round to fix the lights, and later that day my electric razor (which was pretty much brand new) randomly stopped working. About a week after that, my night light that hasn't worked in forever magically became functional, while my kettle immediately broke even though it had been fine that same morning.

Just to prove I wasn't going crazy, I went and dug out the oldest thing I could find, my 3DS that's been broken since like 2018, and tried to get it to work, which should be straight up impossible. Except it now works fine, and like clockwork the next morning my toothbrush wouldn't turn on. This shit just keeps happening and I'm not sure what I did to deserve it.

Anyway, my phone has started going on the fritz, so who knows, maybe it'll shut down in a week and bring my fucking Bop-It back to life.

#asks #not a poll #hot tech hellscape

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oddballwriter · 3 days ago

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Slut Him Out

Summary: You and Steven partake in some kinky activities, with you edging him and making him degrade himself knowing that he gets off on it. But it turns out that Steven is wanting to play in some more action by being a brat.

Warnings: SMUT. BDSM and kinks involved such as dom/sub dynamic, brat play, brat discipline, bondage, hair pulling, degradation, name calling, edging, rough handling/manhandling, use of sex toys including a vibrator, cock ring, and gag (mentioned). Dom!reader and sub!brat!Steven. back on my bottom and kinky sub Steven propaganda again. There's also the implication that the reader and Jake also engage in dom/sub dynamics too.

Author’s Snip: I wanted to write for my proposal and idea that Steven should be allowed to be into more hard and degrading stuff with the idea of him being into some kinky stuff. Just because I've personally yet to see it and I feel like Jake and Marc shouldn't be the only ones who get to be a part of that. All this to say I want more bratty Steven. Let him be a brat.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 678

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sergeant102105 @ingoldthewizard

Honestly, despite the stereotype that nerds are all secretly the kinkiest people on the planet, when people looked at Steven Grant, no one could fathom the idea that he could partake in anything remotely kinky. He was socially awkward, timid, and if it weren't for the fact that you found all that charming about him and asked him out, and thus began dating, some would say he possibly had no game. Quite possibly even freeze up as soon as anything remotely sexual started happening around him.

But what they don't know is that Steven really is that stereotype but in a whole other way.

"Say it," you command him.

"I'm a...~" he breathes out, but he trails off.

"Come on. Don't tell me you can't string some words together. We haven't been going for that long," you tease him.

"I'm a desperate slut!~" he moans out.

You and Steven were sitting on the bed, you simply sat on the bed, fully clothed, pulling Steven's back against your chest. Of which, Steven was completely naked and sat on his knees with his hands bound behind his back. The hand that you weren't using to keep Steven flushed against you was reaching in front of him, jerking him off.

"There we go. That wasn't so hard. Was it?" you purr in his ear, but Steven only whimpers back.

You keep going for a while till Steven goes from whimpering to moaning, getting closer to coming with each stroke, but when he's almost there you stop dead in the middle of the action making him cry out and try thrusting his hips to get more. But you're quick to stop him by taking the hand you're using to hold him from his chest to his curls and tugging on them, making him moan embarrassingly loud.

"Ah-ah," you tut, "You know better than that," you scold him.

"Please. I need to come," Steven begs. "You said if I was good I could come," he says.

"And you said that I could make you come any way I wanted. But here you are being a brat and trying to get your way," you tell him.

"I'm not a brat!" he protests.

"You're sure acting like one." you taunt him.

"And you're being unfair," he bites back, "I want to come now." he whines, adding "You let Jake come when he wants, whenever you do this with him.".

You grab his chin and turn him to face you. "Maybe because Jake does as he's told and doesn't talk back," you tell Steven. "But if you keep talking back like that and you're getting the ring and vibe treatment and I'll leave you like that till you wanna behave," you warn him.

"No," Steven begs, "I got that last time, that's not fair," he whines.

"What's the word?" you ask. That's your version of asking for the safe word.

"Gatsby" he says. Go. You nod in response before continuing.

"I'll warn you one last time. You either stop being a brat or I'm getting the stuff," you order him.

"You're no fun," he grumbles.

"Now you're getting the gag too," you say as you push him forward onto the bed, the mattress of course breaking his fall onto his front. "It'll save us the noise complaint of you moaning like a whore." you add as you get up to retrieve the toys from their storage in a lower drawer across the room.

You're still able to see the bed in the corner of your vision as you stifle through all the things in the drawer. You can see Steven squirming and occasionally trying to fight against the rope binding his wrists, and whimpering and breathing heavily. But you know that they aren't noises of distress. As a matter of fact, you get the idea that he's trying to get off on his own to continue testing you.

You grab everything and walk back to the bed, "Last warning, Steven. You either stop and be good or I'll make you behave," you say.

"Make me then."

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant smut #sub!steven grant #dom!reader

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beomiracles · 3 days ago

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𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 TAPE 05

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Moving rapidly through your career as one of the leading female investigators, you never once encountered a case you couldn't crack. Though you never expected for your past mistakes to come back and haunt you in the form of an ex lover, accused of murder. ⸝⸝

𝓹airings criminal!beomgyu x detective!reader 𝔀arnings references to sexual encounters, blood, mentions of injuries, drinking, red-flag reader (?), no warnings just vibes idk man leave me alone im going to cry.

📼 THE TAPE RECORDINGS

𝓣𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓢𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 contains dark themes portraying unhealthy and toxic relationships and substance abuse. reader discretion is advised ! — this story is partly told in flashbacks, beware of timestamps as past/present are mixed throughout the story.

#serene adds ✎.. the last scene was so god awful hard for me to write for some unknown reason... oh well! I got it out, I'm alive, all is well :3

[ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။| TAPE 05 ] — Bloody Bodies recording legnth; 6.4k + PLAYLIST

⸝⸝

📼 — April 29th 2022

“So… What happens now?” Your hushed question feels loud when it passes your swollen lips. Gingerly pulling your panties back on, you cringe at the sticky feeling of the damp fabric against your skin. Beomgyu remains silent next to you as he leans back against the brick wall. For a moment, you wonder if your question had been a stupid one to ask.

It’s not until you move closer to him, your arm brushing against his that he tilts his head your way, one of his brows tugging upward. “Is something supposed to happen?” He echoes in an almost monotone voice. — Confused, you glance between him and the door only a few steps away. “Are you not going back inside?”

For the past ten minutes you had been trying to come up with an excuse, rather an explanation to deliver in front of Kayla once you walked back inside the club with Beomgyu. She would be mad, undoubtedly so and your mind raked with different scenarios and outcomes. What would you tell her? Would you even get the chance to introduce him, would he even want you to? Maybe he would just take off as soon as you stepped inside.

“No.”

His sigh is like a stone brick thrown right at you, hitting you across the face and leaving an ugly bruise. You blink, in complete disbelief as your gaze darts back toward him. But you had just spent ten whole minutes worrying about what to say. And he wasn’t even going back in? — “You’re not?” It was impossible to hide the disappointment in your voice and you’re almost certain he picked up on it.

Beomgyu shakes his head before letting it tilt back against the wall behind him. You knew that he was waiting for you to leave, and perhaps you should. Any other day you probably would have, but today it wasn’t enough. The sex only gave you a temporary fix, you needed more.

“Where are you going?” You straighten out your back, hands falling to your sides as they clenched into fists. You were determined to draw at least a half-assed answer out of him. Beomgyu doesn’t look at you when he replies, “Work.”

Ah right, work. It was an easy excuse, given that you knew little to nothing about what he did for a living, or anything else regarding him for that matter. That was bound to change.

“You work nights?”

He hadn’t expected that question, you could tell by the way his jaw subtly clenched, his hands digging deeper into his pockets. He nods, but his eyes are fixated on something far away, something you couldn’t see. “I do sometimes”, he hums.

Sometimes? He must work quite odd hours, for night shifts were usually on a tight and regular schedule. “Is it okay for you to drink before work?” You ask with a small frown, silently questioning his move to come here if he knew he had somewhere important to be shortly after. — But Beomgyu merely shrugs as he pushes himself off the cold wall. “I am my own boss, dollface.” His lips curl into the ghost of a smirk when he leans over to kiss your forehead.

And just like that, he was gone again, and you were left with what seemed even more questions than you’d started with.

⸝⸝

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 22th 2024

“He was a freelancer… Of sorts..” You quietly state and Yeonjun glances up from the files in front of him. “Freelance?” He repeats and you nod as your gaze returns to the photos of the crime scene before you. Your finger drags across the image of the bloodstained cough, cringing as you imagine Beomgyu, covered from head to toe in blood as he lunges at the poor victim.

“Do you know what kind of freelance?” Your senior then wonders as he flips a page. You did. Though Beomgyu rarely, if ever, discussed work matters with you, you had still caught on to enough where you knew what kind of connections he held, what kind of person he was. — For some reason your lips betray you, “I don’t.”

You then hastily continue, “He was gone a lot, worked odd hours, came and went.” You shrug, trying your best to divert from the topic you had brought up yourself. You don’t know why you defended him, why you felt the need to take his side. You want to be honest with Yeonjun, hell you want to be honest with yourself. Why did he have to make it so hard?

Your last conversation a mere two days ago was still fresh in your mind. You wondered if his words actually held any weight. Was it true? Were you still loyal to him, after everything that had happened… Maybe you always will be. The thought was a scary one and you quickly pushed it away.

Choi Beomgyu was going to prison. He had no alibi, no witnesses, and all evidence pointed at him. All you lacked now was his confession, but that proved to be more than difficult.

“Why did you do it?”

Your question is left hanging in the open air, and your fingers curl around the pencil in your hand as you grip it tightly. The all too familiar metal table in front of you gleams under the bright lamp hanging above, the sterile lights reflecting off of its surface. — Beomgyu sighs, sounding tired as his gaze shifts from the wall behind you and over to meet your own. But when his eyes fall on you, they seem to regain their almost mischievous glint. “You’ve got to be a little more specific than that, dollface.”

Feeling your jaw clench as you fight to stay composed, your gaze flickers to the window on your left. As much as you wanted answers, you couldn’t risk anything with Yeonjun on the other side, listening intently to the conversation taking place. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as you watch your reflection through the dark glass, you looked as scared as you felt.

Following your hesitant glance, Beomgyu smirks. It was like he fed on your uncertainty. Every step you faltered allowed him to take at least three forward. You swallow, and then your attention returns to him. “Why did you kill him?” — “Hm?” He attempts to run a hand through his hair, cringing slightly when he realizes that they’re both tied together by the metal cuffs around his wrists. With the small roll of his eyes he continues, “Thought I already told you, I was cleaning up a mes-”

“No.”

He pauses, cocking an eyebrow as he watches you with an impassive expression. You draw in a sharp breath. Never had you interrupted him before, never had you dared to. His brows pull together, his vision narrowing if only slightly. “No?” He huffs, the disbelief in his tone evident. — You shake your head softly, the movement small, so minimal that only he could pick up on it.

“Why did you kill him?”

Within the four confined walls the already thick air suddenly shifted. You recognized the smirk that tugged across his lips, the way his eyes glimmered with recognition. Beomgyu leans back, his hands clasped neatly together as his thumbs roll over one another. And even though it felt as if the two of you spoke completely different languages, where words were all but an endless game of cat and mouse.. — Sometimes… It was like he could understand you perfectly, as long as you gave him reason to.

His tongue prods against the inside of his cheek, his lip twitching and for a second it looked like he was holding back laughter. “Dollface”, he drawls, metal cuffs rattling against the metal table when he leans forward. “Why?” He echoes, “Is that what you’re dying to know?”

Yes. But you never say it out loud. You swallow, your grip on the pencil so tight that it might just snap in half. Beomgyu picks up on it, his eyes flitting down for a second before snapping back up to yours. — You knew that Beomgyu had killed people, you knew that he had blood on his hands. You have seen it yourself.

⸝⸝

📼 — May 11th 2022

The hotel room is dark. The expensive silk beneath you is cool to the touch and the large bed is cold, for it misses the warmth of another body next to your own. You try to swallow down the lump in your throat, but it won’t budge. It’s quiet, eerily so, and your stomach doesn’t tingle with butterflies as it usually would on a night like this. Instead it twists with dread.

You reach for your discarded phone, its bright light stings your eyes when you re-read his message. The address was correct, the room number too. But the time… 11:45 pm. Your heart drops when your gaze flickers toward the time indicator on your screen.

2:31 am.

He was nearly three hours late. But Beomgyu was never late, in fact, he was always there before you. Often you had wondered how he managed to get from one location to the next, how he never seemed out of place, no matter when and where you met. But tonight things are different. — Had he changed his mind? Did he not want to see you after all? Maybe something had come up…

Your attention fixates on the shut door. You imagine him walking through it, his dark hair falling across his even darker eyes, the everlasting smirk plastered on his lips. You imagine his voice, the nickname he had for you rolling off his tongue when his arms wrap around your waist. You imagine him kissing you, with a longing that perfectly matched your own.

But Beomgyu never comes.

You bite your lip, the idea of going home crossing your mind. It would be rather pathetic to wait here all alone, no? But then he would have spent money on a room left unused. Perhaps you should stay the night.. You could order room service in the morning before leaving.

The bed frame rattles under your weight when your back reaches the mattress with a thud. Exhausted and anxious, you let your eyes fall shut as you beg for sleep to take you. Even if you worried that he would continue to haunt your nightmares. — Beomgyu always left you clueless, he kept you in the dark. But naive as you were, you thought you would one day get answers to all of your questions. If only you stayed long enough..

You don’t know how many hours had passed, perhaps it had been mere minutes. But it was still dark outside when the small click of the door lock startled you awake. Quickly shooting up from the bed, your back presses against the headboard as you grab onto a pillow, not that it would aid in any defense.

The thick darkness prevents you from making out who the person lingering within the shadows was. Your heart thumps against your ribcage and your free hand blindly searches for your phone, only to freeze in your tracks when his voice cuts through the silence. — “Fuck, are you still here?” Beomgyu’s short breath instantly makes you relax and you slump back against the bed.

Lowering the pillow from your chest, you swallow. “Sorry, should I have gone home?” You quietly wonder as you shift awkwardly on the mattress. In the everlasting darkness it was impossible to make out his expression, but you hear him heave a sigh. “No it’s fine, I… Fuck I’m sorry, dollface.”

He takes a couple of steps forward, finally emerging from the shadows and becoming engulfed in the pale light of the moon. You find your gaze lingering by his dark figure, regarding him like it was your last chance, you never knew if it was. — The cold metal of his rings send sparks down your spine when his fingers wrap around your chin. He tilts your face back, his other hand finding a place atop your head as he studies you with a small frown.

“I got held up at work”, he explains and your eyes widen. It was unusual of him to share as much as a word about his life outside of your encounters, even if it was just a simple apology for his tardiness.

You find yourself leaning into his touch. “It's alright”, you murmur, your eyes half lidded when you peer up at him, “You can always make it up to me.”

Beomgyu chuckles, his hands sliding down your sides as he guides you back onto the mattress. The kisses he places to the side of your neck and down your collarbone are warm and familiar. That very warmth seeps into the cold vines that have tightened around your chest, gradually loosening them up.

You don’t question where he had been or what had made him take so long, you knew that you would never receive an answer. Instead you clung onto this fragile moment of intimacy, for you never knew if it were to be your last.

Letting your hands trail along his still clothed chest, your fingers toy with the hem of his shirt, tugging on it as you pull him closer. Just as you’re about to push the garment up above his torso, do you freeze. There was an undeniable wet patch on the soft cotton. But when your lips part in an unspoken question, Beomgyu’s sudden kiss to your open mouth makes you lose your sense of direction.

Allowing him to kiss you for a moment, your hands halt as your fingers nervously fiddle with his shirt. But when you find that the damp spot only grows, you can’t ignore it anymore. — “What’s that?” You half-hearted whisper against his lips, torn between satiating your burning curiosity and saving this sacred moment.

“Hm?” Beomgyu hums against you, his kisses becoming all the more persistent in an attempt to sway your curious mind elsewhere. He ignores it when your hands brace themselves on his chest, and it’s not until you speak that he finally pulls back an inch. “Beomgyu, there’s something on your shirt..”

With an outstretched arm you flick on the small light on the bedside table. Given a second to adjust to the warm glow, your eyes widen as soon as they fall on the dark crimson stain covering his grey shirt. — Was that… blood?

Immediately you jerk back, your gaze flitting down to your now stained fingers. It was fresh. “Oh my god”, is all you can muster and before he has the chance to object your hands are insistently bunching his shirt up above his chest. — “Dollface”, Beomgyu tries, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrists but you merely shrug him off, all too focused on the blood smeared across his skin.

“What happened- Are you hurt? Why didn’t you say something?” The words all come bubbling to the surface, passing your lips without crossing your mind twice. It’s not until your trembling fingers swipe across his very much untainted chest that a brief silence falls over the two of you. He doesn’t wince or draw back at your finger’s probing, because he wasn’t hurt in the first place.

Beomgyu sighs, his hands brushing along your forearms. “It’s not mine”, he says, his voice is low, calm, as if trying to reassure you that everything was fine when it quite clearly wasn’t. How could he say something like that so casually? And what did he mean by not his? Who else if not him…

You swallow, the sound near deafening in the otherwise quiet room. All previous desire and longing has now washed off, the heat of his kisses and his touch no longer linger. You felt cold, left with an uncanny feeling in the deepest pits of your stomach. — You refuse to look him in the eyes, “What happened?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Was he thinking of an excuse? Was he conjuring yet another lie? Maybe he was debating on telling the truth for once. His thumbs rub soothing circles across your wrists, the small action however, had an opposite effect. You couldn’t tear your gaze from the blood, there was so much of it.

“Told you I got held up at work didn’t I?” He finally says, pulling you close in order to press a kiss to your forehead. His words didn’t matter, they couldn’t erase the uneasiness that had begun to build inside of you. Instead you draw in a deep breath, shifting on the bed as you lean back to peer up at him. “What exactly do you do for work?”

Beomgyu lets go of your wrists as he bites the inside of his cheek. He runs a hand through his dark hair and you intently follow the action. Whilst studying him under the faint glow of the bedside lamp, you notice just how rough he was looking, and that didn’t have to do with the blood tainting his chest. His hair was disheveled, his eyes sunken in, his skin was pale and there was a small cut on his upper lip.

He looked exhausted.

“It’s a business”, he begins in a low tone, drawing his words out as he talks slowly. His gaze flickers over the deep frown etched across your face and he presses the palm of his hand to your cheek. “I merely make sure that deals go through”, he says as his thumb slides between your furrowed brows, as if trying to ease your expression.

You shake your head, unconvinced by his vague response. “What kind of business ends in you looking like that?” There’s an underlying sense of accusation to your question and despite the subtle clench of his jaw, Beomgyu continues his soft caress to your face. “Our client hurt himself, pure accident. — Had to get him help, it took longer than I expected.”

He sends you a small smile, and you want to believe him, you really do. You want to believe that Beomgyu was just your average person, living an average life. But you knew that he wasn’t And you knew that he was lying to you right now. Beomgyu lied a lot. What you didn’t know was if his lies were good or bad intentions.

It scared you.

⸝⸝

📼 — May 11th 2022

You didn’t think Beomgyu was a murderer. No, that would be extreme. Yet you found yourself ignoring his messages. He’d sent two. Just like usual they had contained two separate addresses, two separate times. You’d officially stood him up twice. He told you that he was okay with it, that he didn’t mind, so you took his word for it. — On the fourth day you think he might stop, that he might grow tired of your persistent no-shows and move over to the next woman waiting on his call. But as you sit in class that very afternoon, your phone vibrates with the indication of yet another text. You felt your stomach twist.

Of course, you were right. The second your eyes fall on the short message you completely lose track of your surroundings. He was insistent, you’d give him that. But surely this would be the last time he’d ask for you. You had spent weeks, almost two months chasing after him. Suppose a small part of you thought of this as payback.

Perhaps that was what caused you to act without reasoning as you turned in your seat. A light tap to Taehyun’s shoulder makes his eyes divert from the board ahead and over to you. “Hm?” He asks as he taps his pencil against the pages of his notebook. You feel your lips tug into a smirk that’s familiar yet most uncharacteristic on you.

“Do you want to go clubbing tonight?”

Taehyun sputters at your words, his jaw slacking as he glances around like you’d just asked him to go down on you. “T-Tonight? Me and you? Clubbing?” He seems almost baffled at the proposal, even more so when you quickly nod. — “Sure why not?” You drawl as the smirk on your lips only grows. You trusted your classmate enough to share a drink or two with him. Besides, Taehyun was a good guy, there was no harm in getting to know him better was there?

He hesitates for a moment, gaze flitting between your professor by the front of the classroom and back to you. “But what about class tomorrow?” He wonders and you shake your head. “Class is canceled, didn’t you hear? Mrs Yang is ill.” — His mouth forms into a small ‘o’ shape as he hums.

“Sure I guess… Do you have a place in mind?”

“Are you sure you know where we are?” Taehyun sounds wary as he trails behind you, he’s like a skittish animal, ready to jump at the tiniest of sounds. He briefly stops to inspect an old street sign, only to jog after you like somewhat of a lost puppy. You, on the other hand, walk with long and determined strides, your feet carrying you through the narrow alleyway with a confidence you couldn’t quite recognize. — “Don’t worry, I’ve been here before.”

Sure enough, the familiar entrance soon floats into vision. The same cold purple hues dance across the dark brick walls, casting the street in an eerie glow. You don’t know why you had picked this place, why it had seemed like a good idea, but now there was no going back. — You swallow the lump in your throat as images of you, walking down this very path not long ago, flashes before your eyes.

You recognize the bouncer, the one who’d refused your entry last time. Part of your worries that he might do so again, this time you had no Beomgyu to rely on. The concept was both terrifying and freeing. This was the very first address he’d ever sent you, perhaps that was why the memory was still so vivid in your mind. Something about this place was different, special.

The sharp light of your phone screen illuminates your face as you check the message one final time. ‘Address, room number, 11:00 pm.’ You glance toward the clock on top of your screen, indicating a menacing 2:37 am. He would’ve left by now, surely pissed off with being stood up a third time, which means… Your gaze drifts toward the entrance mere feet away, the thumping rhythm of bass already drumming through your chest.

You wanted to see Beomgyu, that was the truth. You just didn’t want to see him. The chances of catching a glimpse of him were slim, but if there was anywhere you’d be able to find him, it would be here. Why? — Well because your gut told you so.

Taehyun grabs ahold of your arm when you make a move to approach the bouncer. “Why don’t we just go back?” He murmurs, the words coming out hushed. You shrug him off, shaking your head as you march toward the large man. This was it, you would give it your best shot. — Straightening your back, you push out your shoulders as far as they would go, your gaze narrowed when you glance up at him.

The bouncer peers down at you through his dark sunglasses, then he frowns, lifting a finger as he pushes them down on his nose. His eyes meet yours and there’s a flash of recognition. “Miss”, he drawls, a small grin splayed across his otherwise stern face. “How delightful of you to join us tonight.” — He steps aside, allowing you both inside, though not without sending Taehyun a harsh glare.

“Do you know him?” Your classmate asks as he stays close to you. — The smirk on your lips grows and you shrug, “Sort of.”

The interior of the place was just like you had remembered it. The large dancefloor, the purple lights, the booths shoved against the walls, not to mention the lack of a bar as drinks were being passed around by the many waiters. — Somewhere behind you Taehyun lets out a short breath, gawking as he takes in his surroundings. But your eyes were only in search of one thing, of one person. And when you don't find him, you pull your friend along as you scour the outskirts of the crowded floor.

Upon passing a waiter on bystand, you snag two glasses off of his plate, handing one of them to Taehyun. He seems skeptical as he peers down at his drink, “Do you even know what’s in these?” — You shake your head, “Nope.” That was the least of your concerns.

Your eyes fall on the grand staircase when you bring the cool glass to your lips. The steps looked much different tonight than they had back then. Tonight they felt untouchable. There was no way you would be getting up there… At least now without a little help.

“Where are you going?” Taehyun calls for you, and you hear him rushing after you as he pushes past the people in his way. You know that you should stop and give him at least a half-assed explanation, maybe even ask him to wait somewhere else. But your mind is entirely preoccupied with the sight before you. — “I’m serious, what are you-” He cuts himself off when he crashes into your shoulder, stumbling backward as he grips his drink tightly.

You’ve stopped in front of one of the many booths lining the walls, and Taehyun peers over your shoulder as he tries to make sense of the situation. The unfamiliar faces to him are ones you recognize with fright.

“No way”, a deep voice drawls, “Dollface, is that you?”

Duri leans forward, his hand, previously on the thigh of the girl next to him, withdrawing as he runs it through his short hair. You feel your stomach draw into knots at the persistent use of that nickname, the one that sounded so sickeningly wrong coming from his lips. — Duri chuckles as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“We seem to bump into one another quite a lot”, he muses, even though he knew that tonight had been no coincidence. You had come with clear intentions in mind, you were certain he could tell. — “Yes.” You send him a tight lipped smile, “So it seems.”

You could practically feel the confusion radiate off of Taehyun as he shifts awkwardly behind you, his eyes darting between Duri and the men surrounding him. You try not to pay his presence any mind as you focus your attention on the target before you.

“Say”, Duri leans forward as he grabs one of the drinks set aside on the table between you, “What can I do for you tonight?”

Your lips part, the grip on your glass tightening significantly as you throw a glance over your shoulder, your eyes automatically landing on the staircase. The steps seemed to shimmer under the purple lights. Duri hums behind you, snapping your attention right back to where it should have remained all along.

He brings his drink to his lips, taking a long sip as he peers at you over the rim of his glass. “Pray tell, what business do you have there?” He wonders as he busies himself with another sip. You shake your head, your gaze unwavering as you say, “That’s none of your concern.”

Duri chuckles, the sound rough and raspy as it builds in his chest. His friends all join in, their laughter echoing off of the booth’s walls. You ignore them, patiently waiting them out as you twist the foot of your glass between your fingers. — After a long minute Duri finally nods, “He’s rubbing off on you.”

The comment makes your face burn and you resist the urge to avert your gaze. Painfully, you watch as he leans over to share a kiss with the woman next to him, parting for a moment to whisper something in her ear. Then he sits back, slamming his drink down on the table with a little too much force. “Fair”, he agrees as he rises to his feet.

Bewildered, you watch as he makes his way around the table, giving your shoulder a harsh pat before making his way toward the staircase. — “Come on”, you urge Taehyun as you hurriedly follow Duri’s tall frame through the ocean of people. Your classmate’s complaints are audible as he whines behind you. “Have you really thought this through?” He questions, his breath warm against the back of your neck, “I mean, look at the guy! We should not be following someone like him to-”

He’s cut short when Duri suddenly stops by the first step. “Ah”, he exhales as he turns on his heel, his piercing gaze falling on Taehyun. “Seems I have yet to introduce myself, pardon me.” — He extends a rough hand and you watch as Taehyun gingerly takes it in his. “Duri”, he says, the menacing smirk on his lips making your friend cower as he mumbles out a quiet, “Taehyun..”

It looked as though Duri was holding back laughter when he turned back to you. “Shall we?” He glances in the direction of the grand doors atop the stairs and you nod.

When you had first climbed these steps, with Beomgyu’s hand on your lower back, the world had been spinning. Each step had felt like one closer to the edge of a misty cliff, where the fog was so thick that it had been impossible to deem the trauma of the fall you might take. — Tonight it felt different. The cliff was no longer enveloped in mist, you saw things clearly now. You saw him clearly. That’s what you had told yourself.

Each step you take feels both empowering and deafening. The moment lasts forever yet it’s somehow over in a second. And before you know it, you’re faced with the grand doors leading into the VIP section. — Duri stops, his hand on the door handle as he sends the guards a small look of acknowledgement.

“I think you’ll be fine from here”, he states, the finalization in his tone evident. Wordlessly he pushes the large doors open, motioning for you to step inside. You do so without hesitation, not sparing Duri as much as a second glance when you pass him.

It’s quiet here, the air is lighter, cleaner. Just like you’d remembered it. Taehyun’s presence is hard to ignore as he clings to your side, the heat radiating off of him as his skittish eyes dart around the room. Almost all booths are occupied already, but you manage to find an empty one by the very edge.

“Did you know him?” Taehyun whispers when you sit back against the soft cushions. You nod, your gaze still roaming the open space as you absentmindedly bring your drink to your lips, “Sort of.” — Your classmate frowns, and you knew all too well from the look on his face that he was far from satisfied with your answer.

Your eyes jump from booth to booth, quickly skimming the people populating them as you fervently search for your target. But it’s not even been a full minute when Taehyun interrupts you again. — “Why are we here?” His voice is even quieter now, as if hesitant to even ask the question out loud. “Are you looking for someone?” He then adds when he notices your distant gaze.

You hum, shaking your head as you lean back against the velvety cushion. “No.” But that was a lie, your first of many. And just as the simple word leaves your lips do you finally find him. All the way across the room, shielded by the man standing before him, yet you could clearly make out his dark hair amongst the rest.

Suddenly your throat feels dry, and you gulp down another mouthful of your beverage. He’d come here after all. A small, naive part of you had hoped and wished that he would stay, that he would linger within the empty hotel room as he waited for your arrival. But it seems he’d moved quickly.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice the unfamiliar woman draped on his arm. The sight shouldn’t surprise you anymore, but your heart still skips a beat. She was your replacement. And though she was far from anything you represented, he’d still turned to her when you were a no-show rather than wallowing his sorrows alone at night. — You shouldn’t have expected anything less of him. He was Choi Beomgyu after all.

He hasn’t noticed you and appears preoccupied with whatever conversation he was currently indulged in. You wish he would notice you. You crave his eyes on you. You long for the way a simple glance from him could make you feel.

You’d stood him up a third time tonight, and it had made you feel in control. For once you were deciding, and not him. So why was it that you felt so utterly powerless at this very moment? Why was it that your eyes searched his when he couldn’t be bothered to even gaze your way?

You turn to Taehyun, he was watching you with a small frown. “You don’t like it here?” You ask, the tension falling from your face as you regard his awkward frame. Taehyun shrugs, his warm eyes flitting to the drink in his hand. “It’s alright”, he says, but you catch the hesitation in his voice.

He chokes on the liquor when your hand brushes along his thigh. “Don’t worry”, you hum as you settle against the booth wall, “We can leave again if you’d like.” Taehyun swallows as he glances between the smile on your lips and to your fingers splayed across his leg. An unfamiliar tint spreads across his cheek when he clears his throat and you find yourself enjoying the sight.

“It’s fine, really.” He assures you as he takes another small sip of his drink. Though he makes no attempt at shrugging you off. You could still sense his confusion, and you didn’t blame him. You were acting far too uncharacteristically even for your own liking. You had barely recognized yourself when you’d approached Duri. The sudden surge of confidence was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, and the rush it had left behind still tingled in the depths of your stomach.

It was the length you were willing to go in order to see him, to see Beomgyu.

Your gaze drifts toward him on its own, and it’s not until his dark eyes fall on yours that you realize just how long and intently you’d been staring at him. He pauses mid sentence, his expression being struck with something you couldn’t quite decipher from this far away. Any other instance you would’ve probably looked away, hid behind nervous laughter or pretended like you hadn’t noticed him in the first place.

But tonight you don’t feel like yourself. — So you hold his gaze. You want him to see you, all of you. You want him to know that you were here, that you had come without him and that you weren’t planning on changing said fact.

Beomgyu shifts where he stands on the other side of the room. His fingers, that had previously been drawing small circles on the waist of the woman next to him, stopped. She’s talking to him, her lips move but you can’t make out what she’s saying, and you’re certain that he’s not listening either.

You can’t tell if he’s angry, you hope he is. Was it selfish? You wanted to pull any other emotion besides lust out of him. You wanted him to feel what you felt every single moment spent in his absence, was that so wrong? — You think you might have succeeded when his hand falls from her waist.

“I want to go home.”

The words escape before you can stop them and you lean forward to place your now empty glass on the table before you. Taehyun’s frown returns, and you feel him shift under your hand. “But we just got here? I thought you wanted to-” — “I changed my mind.” You firmly state, not tearing your gaze from Beomgyu as you watch his jaw clench.

You had gotten what you came here for. A small, but noticeable reaction, one that you’d created. Now all that remained was to safely evacuate before he had the chance to approach you. — With that you rise to your feet, blinking as blood rushes to your head. Taehyun is quick to follow as he gulps down the last of his drink.

“Hey, wait are you-” His protests are lost on you as you head for the door. Through the corner of your eye you catch Beomgyu’s dark figure moving, coming closer. You quicken your pace, desperate to get away from a situation you had caused yourself. And you were so close, the door handle almost within reach when suddenly, a hand wrapped around your wrist.

You freeze. Their grip is firm, unwavering and demanding as they tug you backward. This was it, this had been a mistake. One temporary rush of confidence had led you to believe that you were actually in control. And now you were about to pay the price for your foolish actions. With your heart in your throat, you turn.

It’s Taehyun.

His expression is tense and guarded. It seemed he finally reached his peak. The warmth in his eyes feels distant as he regards you with a narrowed gaze. “What’s going on with you?” He spits the words out, and though you can tell that he’s trying his hardest to appear stoic, you can see the concern swirling in his irises.

“You want one thing then the next, you’re making no sense and I…” You stop listening, his rambling becomes background noise when you catch Beomgyu not far behind him. Dark strands falling across his face, the rings on his fingers glimmering under the lights as he runs them through his hair. He’s stopped, and you wonder why.

Your gaze shifts between Taehyun’s worried expression and his motionless one. In that moment, you realize just how much power Beomgyu holds over you, the extreme lengths he makes you go to just to end up hurt in the end. — You didn’t want to feel like that anymore.

“Taehyun.” His endless rambling is cut short when his name leaves your lips. His eyes, despite the conflict buried within them, are nothing like Beomgyu’s. No, his eyes are gentle, even like this, even when they shouldn’t be. Even when you didn’t deserve it. Your gaze flickers over to Beomgyu one last time before they return to him.

“Can you kiss me?”

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bumblesimagines · 3 days ago

Text

Metamorphosis

Request: Yes or No

Summary: In the aftermath of everything they've gone through, regret and grief settles in.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical Alien warnings, mentions of death and injuries, pregnancy mention, homoeroticism and unplanned pregnancies will be the death of us all, survivors guilt, favorite type of ending hehe haha

~~~

Space is typically defined as the infinite expanse between celestial bodies; the perfect vacuum where stars, planets, and other bodies move freely unless bound by the pull of gravity keeping them within an orbit.

When (Y/N) was younger, he'd sit huddled beneath his blanket with a flashlight illuminating an old tablet showcasing outer space, or more specifically, the sun.

Per his less-than-impressive lessons and all the information he accessed throughout the years, suns are defined as large spherical stars made up of plasma and energy that are able to pull other celestial bodies into an orbit thus creating a system.

His home planet, LV-410, was a ringed planet part of the Alpheios System with its very own sun. Except, his home, or preferably his hell, was covered in thick clouds and smog that made it impossible to see the sun.

His glee was immense when he laid eyes on it for the first time. It was bright, brighter than he ever imagined, but the prospect of finding a new home far, far away from his mining colony was more exciting.

Up until that point, his future was clear: work at the mines until he dropped dead from age or died from a terminal illness caused by the working conditions. But a new star system, a new planet, opened up a whole new world of opportunities.

His glee died with the rest of his friends.

It had to have been at least a day, maybe two.. maybe even three, since he allowed his friends to convince him to search an obsolete Weyland-Yutani ship for its cryosleep chambers. It seemed far-fetched, at first, to find enough chambers with enough fuel to get them all to Yvaga in nine years but they did it. Tyler, Bjorn, and Andy found the damned chambers and fuel... at the biggest cost.

"What do you think Yvaga is going to be like?" Kay asked softly, her wayward curls tickling his chin as she curled further into his body. Her fingers toyed with his hand, fingertips going over the wrinkles on his knuckles and then pressing into the callouses on his skin from his work in the mines.

"Well, for starters, we'll see the sun each time we wake up." He told her, lips brushing against her hair before they pressed into the crown of her head. His other hand that'd been massaging her hip (partly out of nerves for the others after Rain and Navarro rushed off in a panic) trekked upward until it rested only the slight curve of her belly. Kay smiled.

"He'll know what the sun's like from the moment he's born, huh?"

"He?"

Kay shrugged and giggled, brushing curls away from her face to peer up at him properly. "It's just a feeling I have. I think it's going to be a boy." She smiled again, bigger and happier this time. "Our son."

"Yeah," He chuckled. The idea of fatherhood still floated above his head, not yet fully sunken in. It was weird yet exciting, in a way. "You know Bjorn will demand we name him after him then, right?"

"No." Lines formed when Kay crinkled her nose and she quickly shook her head. "No way. Not happening."

Their laughter followed though it was abruptly cut off when Navarro stumbled past the bed with a pale face and wide, frantic eyes, her body swaying and nearly crashing into the walls around her.

They moved immediately and Kay hurried after her adoptive cousin with concerned questions tumbling out of her mouth one right after the other. (Y/N) turned in the direction she came from, but when no one else followed, he moved.

"Bjorn? Tyler?" He called into the deck below. He could hear someone's frantic breathing and a flurry of words drenched in a familiar accent he'd grown to dislike. "Bjorn? You okay, man?"

He never liked the bastard, but he was still Tyler and Kay's cousin, so he climbed down the yellow emergency ladder into the deck leading toward the airlock and docking bay to check on him. Tyler's voice flowed into the rooms from the intercom, laced with irritation and demanding Bjorn to open the door.

His pace quickened and just as he laid eyes on the bandana-wearing idiot, the ship suddenly began moving sideways. He stumbled, catching himself on the ladder but when he managed to steady himself, he heard Kay's horrified scream echo above him.

Before he could even begin to react, his body was thrown sideways with a collision and slammed into the far-side wall.

He'd been staring at the wall ever since the thing was vacuumed into space. His mind was elsewhere.

It was back home in his trailer on the rickety tablet reading about the godforsaken sun. It was back in the mines where each time he took a breath he felt the overwhelming urge to cough until his lungs gave out. It was in front of the Harrison's trailer when Tyler confronted him about his feelings for Kay with hot tears of betrayal coating his grime-covered cheeks.

It was anywhere but present.

Rain's footsteps were muffled to his ears, barely audible to him until she stood right in front of him. He stared at her legs instead, and then at her face when she crouched down to be at eye-level with him.

Her face was blurry until he blinked, momentarily bringing himself back into his body. Her blue eyes stared back at him, squinted with concern and exhaustion. Her lips moved but, like her footsteps, her words were muffled.

Rain squeezed her eyes shut and dropped her shoulders with a heavy sigh. She pressed her palms into the floor and crawled into the spot beside him where she mimicked his position and propped her arms on her knees.

Rain stared at the wall with him for a few minutes as her chest began to rise and fall more quickly, her cracked lips trembling uncontrollably. Her body soon shook with sobs and hiccups.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and punch and kick but his body remained in place on the floor. He wanted to think he was dying; he desperately wished he was, otherwise, he'd have to come to terms with whatever was inside him. He stared at the wall because if he looked at his hands he'd notice the once all-consuming pain in his body had faded. He'd be prompted to take a look at his hip. He'd remember all too clearly.

He was supposed to be dead.

"(Y/N)?" A hushed, annoyingly familiar voice whispered into his ear, trembling and frightened. "C'mon, man, please. I know you hate me but please.. wake up."

A groan formed on his lips, but a rough hand slapped over his mouth to muffle it. A throbbing pain in the back of his head and across his shoulders intensified as he began to wake fully, each movement sending a spark of pain up his spine. He cracked his eyes open and looked into Bjorn's wide, glistening eyes. They shut briefly when he exhaled in relief, then he brought a shaky finger to his lips to make a shushing motion.

(Y/N) pressed his lips together tightly to refrain from questioning him about the collision, about the flickering lights. Any other day, he might've, but he'd never seen Bjorn look so pale with fear before. Bjorn was cocky, confident, and an overall asshole, but he bulldozed into everything headfirst. He never left space for fear. (Y/N)'s heart rapidly sunk into his stomach and he raised a hand to touch the blood clinging to the side of Bjorn's head. What the hell was going on?

Slowly and carefully, Bjorn helped him onto his step and brought his finger to his lips again before he pointed down the long corridor that led to the airlock. Right at the end of the corridor attached to the wall was something large, fleshly, and dripping with a thick fluid that pulsated every few seconds. (Y/N)'s head whipped around to look at Bjorn wide-eyed.

Bjorn stepped closer to him and brought himself close to his ear, his breath hot and trembling. "It- It came... from Navarro's chest.."

(Y/N) could only stare at him in bewilderment until his heart skipped a beat and his body stiffened with alarm. Kay. His eyes shot over to the ladder and he staggered toward it, his teeth grinding together at every ache and protest from his body demanding a moment of rest.

He stopped when a shadow blocked the light flickering from above. Hot tears of relief pricked at the back of his eyes at the sight of Kay making her way down the ladder with scrapes and bruises but still alive.

The moment the bottom of her shoes were securely on the metal floor, she whirled around and threw her arms around him. Her body trembled with muffled sobs and her tears formed wet spots on his shirt, her face only digging further into him when he cradled her body into his. The splattered blood on her face and Bjorn's words only meant one thing: Navarro was dead.

Kay pulled back and parted her lips, but Bjorn made the shushing motion again and nodded for them to follow him down the corridor toward the door. (Y/N) took Kay's shaking hand in his and kept her behind him as they followed Bjorn. His ears picked up the sharp inhale Kay took at the sight of the cocoon on the wall. Bjorn limped toward a small station at the wall, where he attached the plug to his shock baton.

(Y/N)'s eyes flickered toward the door. They needed to leave. For Kay's sake. For the baby's sake.

Bjorn jabbed the baton into the cocoon and shouted desperately as blue electrically sparked brightly inside the cocoon, inhuman shrills and shrieks leaving the creature inside. The box sparked brightly and gave out within minutes, making the lights in the ship flicker more wildly. (Y/N) tugged on Kay's arm and hurried past Bjorn toward the door. They needed to leave now-

Bjorn screamed in pain and the two spun around, catching the end of a long armored tail slipping back into the cocoon while Bjorn groaned and clutched his eye. Blood oozed from between his fingers and trailed down his wrist as he withered in pain on the floor until a liquid dripping from the cocoon fell on him.

(Y/N) swallowed down the urge to vomit his lunch when the sizzling sound and smell of skin burning reached him.

"Kay, we need to move." He hissed and turned away, freeing his hand from her tight hold to frantically press the button but it beeped in error each time. He could feel a sob begin to bubble in his throat. None of the buttons he pressed did anything but beep in error. "Kay, Kay, please, we have to leave."

Kay backed up until she was pressed against the door, her eyes wide and breaths leaving her in short bursts. (Y/N) refused to turn to look at what she was staring at. "I-I don't know. I don't- I don't know. I don't know."

"Kay? (Y/N)?" Tyler's quiet voice spoke through the intercom. Too quiet, too breathy for the guy who lost his mind when it came to his little sister. For the guy willing to take a punch for him. He sounded scared. "I'm here. I'm here."

More noises from behind him. Kay released a horrified whimper. (Y/N) mashed his thumb into every button on the pad.

"The door, Tyler, the door." (Y/N) made the mistake of glancing back. There was something big emerging from the cocoon. (Y/N) was certain his finger was going to break from how hard he was pressing each button. "It- It won't open, Ty, it won't open. Ty, please. Ty-"

"There's a key, (Y/N). There's a-" Tyler inhaled quietly, sharply. "Look for a key."

Kay dropped down to the floor and began combing it for a key, her head whipping around in each direction until her hand darted out to snatch something a few inches away from his feet. She stumbled onto her feet and jammed the key into the keyhole, her curls tumbling back and forth over her shoulder with each glance she stole at the creature. (Y/N) pulled on the lever and the door opened for them, invading the space with cool air.

(Y/N) looked over his shoulder and almost choked on his breath. The creature, the fucking alien, looked straight from a tale of horror told to kids to keep them from going out alone. Its black skeletal frame slowly rose onto its long hind legs and its long cylinder-shaped head cocked in their direction, rows of teeth exposing with a low hiss.

(Y/N) took Kay's hand in his and bolted past the door, only for a scream to rip from their throats as they fell and collided with the metal floor below. Black spotting filled his vision and a heaviness tugged at his eyelids but he felt Kay's fingers twitch and spasm in his palm.

He picked up the click of sprinklers and his body jerked at the sensation of cold water hitting him, the soft pelting soothing his warm skin and coaxing the need to shut his eyes completely out of his system.

He remained still and listened to his breathing, the sound of the water hitting the floor, and waited for any sign of the monstrous creature.

With a soft, breathy groan, (Y/N) shielded his eyes from the bright light above and the water as he forced himself to sit up despite the pain spreading through his muscles. He looked down at Kay when she grunted, his eyes darting from her contorted features to her belly.

Something moved.

The baby was kicking, he realized. Another kick and Kay's hand flew down to clutch her belly with a wince. He was old enough to kick.

(Y/N) shook his head. He'd worry about the baby's development later, once they were far, far away from the alien. His hand clutched her forearm and he helped her move to the edge of the platform. They hopped down, the groan and creaking of the metal prompting them to hurry beneath the catwalk and out of sight. They crawled beneath it and then, something hard landed on the catwalk.

Immediately, (Y/N) pulled Kay closer until she was halfway beneath him and pressed his hand to her mouth. He held his breath and froze, waiting for the creature to rip through the metal and tear into him, but its feet thumped against the catwalk when it moved away. He couldn't deduce if his shaking was from the cold water or the fear pumping through him.

He lifted his head, slowly and almost hesitantly, at the sound of more clanking. He caught it dragging the bodies of Bjorn and Navarro away down another hall and took his hand away from Kay's mouth to push at her back until she scrambled toward the end and carefully hopped down.

He followed after her, taking quick glances in the direction of the hallway while they made their way through what seemed to be a former storage room in the direction of the only other exit. Kay rushed over to it and frantically tapped the buttons but an alarm began blaring above them instead.

"Access denied."

(Y/N)'s head snapped toward the hallway and he waited with baited breath for it to appear again. Something slammed against the door and when he spun around to look, Tyler's face greeted them on the other side. His lips moved but the thickness of the door and walls muffled whatever he was telling them.

Rain and Andy appeared behind them and Andy stepped toward the panel, only to grow still instead of opening the door for them. In the reflection of the glass window, (Y/N) caught sight of the huge figure climbing out of the hallway and Andy backed away.

Kay slammed her palms against the door, her shoulders jerking with each hiccup. "Open the door. Tyler, please, open the door."

Tyler's wide eyes flickered between them, his lips moving quicker with what he assumed were meant to be reassuring words. (Y/N) grinded his teeth together to keep them from clattering and ignored every instinct in his body screaming at him.

He swallowed, a few tears slipping down his cheeks, and he turned around to face the alien. It stared back at him, or he assumed. It had no visible eyes, and its pitch-black skin was scarred and burnt from Bjorn's attack.

"Get the door open, Ty."

(Y/N) walked cautiously, every movement he made slow as if he were dealing with one of the aggressive drunks back home. He ignored Kay's crying, the desperate muffled shouting that grew louder. The alien tracked him, its large head turning to follow him. It hissed and bared its teeth again, its drool dripping from its mouth and onto the container it'd perched itself on. Its long, blade-tipped tail waved behind it threateningly, twitching with anticipation.

It moved and barely made a sound. Its long limbs extended downward toward the floor, claws scraping lightly against the metal and tail raising even higher. (Y/N) glanced past it to look back at Kay. She shook her head desperately and clutched her belly, her legs nearly giving out beneath her from how hard she sobbed. He took a breath and bolted.

He didn't get very far before a sharp, hot pain erupted from his hip, and blood splattered on the container beside him. There was another hiss, but not from behind him. Kay's scream was short-lived.

"This was all for nothing." His throat ached, parched. Rain's head whipped around to look at him, strands of her short brown hair swishing and hitting her flushed red cheeks. "This was all for fucking nothing."

"No." Rain whispered and she shook her head rapidly, her body moving to kneel beside him and stare into the side of his face. "No, no, it can't be. We- We have to get to Yvaga, (Y/N). We have to."

"There is no we, Rain!" (Y/N) snapped with a hot flash of unsuspected anger, the fury so bright and overwhelming he wanted to smash her head into the wall. Rain flinched and leaned back, away from him with wide eyes. His legs slumped and he quickly moved his shaking hands beneath his thighs, keeping them pinned and out of sight. That wasn't right. He wasn't right. "Everyone's dead."

"But you and me and Andy aren't, (Y/N). We came here.. for those fucking chambers. They wanted to get to Yvaga. We have to go... for- for them and for ourselves. Please... nine years is too long. You're- You're..." Rain swallowed and licked her lips. Her mouth opened and closed whilst she searched for the right words. His arm jerked when her fingertips grazed along it. "You're... alive. Andy says there's something different-"

"No shit, Rain." (Y/N) hissed. "I'm sick."

He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. Everything hurt.

Each breath he took felt as if someone had lit his lungs on fire and his stomach churned with nausea. His left side was numb, lost to any sensation and tingling. Something warm soaked through his pant leg and made the fabric cling to his skin. He thought about closing his eyes, thought about giving into the drowsiness weighing him down.

Someone let out a wheezy grunt across from him. Soft, high-pitched. Kay.

He tried lifting his head but it only twitched, and any words he tried to speak only came out in low hums that vibrated in his throat. His vision was too blurry to see anything past the faint outline of his hanging arms splattered with blood. Where were they? He only remembered something stiff and hard stabbing through his body before his vision had darkened.

"Kay?! (Y/N)?!"

Tyler... sweet, sweet Tyler. Tyler who'd forced him into a friendship when they were seven; Tyler who'd waited outside his trailer every day to hang out; Tyler who'd smiled at him so lovingly and then broken his heart by dating Rain; Tyler who'd punched him when he learned he hooked up with Kay. Tyler.. who was still alive.

A groan emitted from his chest. He had to focus. He blinked sluggishly and demanded his limbs to move. His fingers twitched, spasming and jerking until he could curl most of them into a fist. He took another, shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut. Everything throbbed and ached. He ignored it as best he could and forced his eyes open, his vision focusing just a little more.

"Kay! (Y/N)!"

Quick footsteps approached them and Tyler's face appeared below him, his big brown eyes peering up at him. Tyler smiled so big (Y/N) was sure it'd hurt his cheeks. Tyler began peeling away at the slime and debris keeping him attached to the wall until his body slumped forward and almost toppled them both over.

(Y/N)'s back pressed against cool metal. A railing. Where were they? He stopped caring when his vision finally focused and he watched Rain and Tyler catch Kay's pale, shivering body. Her eyes kept rolling to the back of her head.

"They- They're losing blood, Tyler." Rain crawled toward him and pressed her hand into his side, apologies leaving her in almost incoherent babbles when he groaned and tilted his head back.

His chest stuttered and he braced himself to look at the damage. His shirt was ripped and blood was rapidly oozing from between Rain's fingers. No matter how hard she pressed, it kept coming. He was going to die. "It's too much. It's too much blood." Rain babbled.

"Maybe that's why they haven't been implanted yet." Andy sounded too cold, too detached.

His head lolled back again. He felt cold, so, so cold. The world began to spin in a whirl, blurring and merging together into one big blob. Their voices came and went, muffled then clear then muffled again. Pain flared again when Rain pressed harder into his side with one hand and then cupped his cheek with the other, warm blood rubbing across his skin.

She looked terrified.

Another garbled groan. Andy slung his arm around his shoulder and then heaved him up onto his weak, nearly limp legs. His hand pressed into (Y/N)'s side, hard and enough for his legs to give out. Andy kept him upright. He expected a pun, some stupid joke to take the edge off, but Andy remained silent as he effortlessly ran with the others, his hand managing to remain still enough to not cause any more damage. (Y/N) wanted to vomit.

Suddenly, Andy froze and squinted. (Y/N) raised his head and blinked the tears from his eyes, blinked the blur away for a fleeting moment. An alien moved along the wall, creeping upward so silently it avoided being noticed by Rain while she cupped Kay's face and comforted her. Tyler tore himself away from the lift's gate and leaped in front of Rain right as the tail darted forward.

(Y/N) couldn't even scream.

He staggered forward, shoving the silent Andy aside, and clung onto the railing. His legs shook and another hiccuping sob tore through his chest. The tail cut cleanly through Tyler's shoulder and then lifted him upward, tearing through his shoulder by inches. Andy moved, but the alien used Tyler's squirming body to toss him back before it lifted Tyler through a hole in the ceiling and disappeared with him. Andy seized beside him but (Y/N) only stared at the ceiling.

His feet took him toward Kay and Rain right before his legs buckled and gave out, sending jolts of pain up his thighs from his sore knees. Rain wrapped an arm around his chest and dragged him toward the waiting lift as best as she could before returning for Kay.

With the last bit of his energy, he rolled over onto his back and tried looking for Kay but his head remained tilted to the side. Black dots invaded his vision and his breath grew even more labored.

(Y/N) stared hopelessly at the flickering lights passing by the rapidly moving lift. He wondered what his son would look like, what Kay would name him when she got to Yvaga. He hoped she told him tales of his uncle, of all the stupid antics they got up to.

The exhausting weight pressing down on his body won and he released a shaky, wheezy breath. Just as he let his eyes flutter shut, his shirt was lifted and something pricked into his abdomen.

Then, there was a sensation that tore a groan from his body and made his back arch. It was cold, as if ice had been directly injected into his veins, and made him cough and gasp.

Sweat dripped from his pores and his heartbeat pounded in his ears, strong and pumping and overwhelmingly alive. A small cylinder rolled around near his head, empty and with droplets of a black liquid inside it.

"You're not sick." Rain asserted and roughly rubbed the tear streaks on her cheeks, her voice too shaky for him to believe a single word she spoke. "You're just different. Maybe- Maybe there's a cure on Yvaga or- or a way to get the compound out of you. Someone.. someone will know what to do."

(Y/N)'s hands shot toward himself and he tore the remainder of his shirt until his torso was exposed to the cool air flowing through the ship. The large slice the alien left when it pierced its tail right above his hipbone had mended itself together, leaving black scabbing behind that uncomfortably resembled the hard material of the alien's skeleton.

He grabbed Rain's wrist and yanked on it until her palm was pressed into the scar left behind. It should've hurt, it should ached or burned with hot searing pain but he felt nothing.

"I'm not just different, Rain. Something's changing me..." Her watered eyes jumped up to meet his gaze. "Something's inside me."

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winterlico · 2 days ago

Text

SEVEN DAYS WITH A DEMON — SJY

⋆.˚ pairing : demon!Jake x fem!reader

Summary : You thought summoning a demon for seven days would be temporary. You were wrong.

⋆.˚ word count : 1.1k

Genre : Fantasy, Romance, Comedy, Light Angst, Fluff

⋆.˚ warnings : 18+ joke (implicitly), harsh words, making out, LOTS of teasing (buckle up)

⋆.˚ a/n : English is not my first language and this is the first time i uploaded a fanfic, i'm sorry if there is still a lot missing words.

❛ feedback & reblogs appreciated! ❜

Night One: The Summoning

You didn’t mean to summon a demon.

It was supposed to be a harmless curiosity—a strange, leather-bound book you found at the flea market, with pages so old they crumbled at the edges. You thought it was just another artifact of forgotten lore, something to flip through on a rainy evening when boredom clawed at your thoughts.

But the moment you traced your finger over the peculiar symbols and spoke the words aloud, the air in your room thickened. The temperature plummeted. Your breath came out in a misty wisp.

And then—

A gust of wind tore through your space, rattling the windowpanes. The dim glow of your bedside lamp flickered violently before shattering, plunging the room into near darkness. A faint, sulfuric scent curled in the air, followed by the low, almost amused chuckle of someone who definitely wasn’t there a second ago.

A figure emerged from the shadows.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in all black, the fabric of his coat swaying like it was caught in an unseen breeze. His hair was the color of a burning ember, dark but catching the light just right. And his eyes—God, his eyes—glowed like molten gold, sharp and predatory as they locked onto yours.

“Well, well.” His voice was smooth, laced with something dangerously sweet. “I thought I had the night off.”

You stumble backward, your heart slamming against your ribs. “Who—who the hell are you?”

He tilts his head, looking you over like he finds your question amusing. Then, with an elegant flick of his fingers, a string of crimson energy crackles to life between them, curling like smoke.

“You summoned me, sweetheart. That means you already know the answer.”

Your breath catches.

Demon. He’s a demon.

And you—clumsy, curious, catastrophically unlucky you—had just called him into your bedroom.

For a long moment, neither of you speak.

You’re still pressed against the wall, staring at him like he might lunge at you any second, while he stands there, hands in his pockets, completely at ease—like materializing in someone’s bedroom is just another Tuesday night for him.

Finally, after a pause that stretches a little too long, he sighs.

“Okay, let’s make this easier,” he says, stepping closer, his molten eyes locked onto yours. “I’m Jake. Demon of contracts, second-class under Lucifer’s domain, and—at least for the next seven days—your personal servant.”

His lips curl at the last part, like he finds the idea amusing.

Your mouth opens, then closes. “Jake?”

He raises a brow. “What? Were you expecting something more dramatic? Like ‘Azazel the Devourer’ or ‘Lord of the Abyss’?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “Jake just sounds so… human.”

He smirks. “Maybe that’s why you don’t seem as scared of me as you should be.”

You bristle at that. “I—I am scared.”

Jake leans in slightly, gaze flicking over your face, as if he can see straight through you. “No, you’re not.”

Your throat goes dry.

He grins.

Then, just as you’re about to retort, he shifts back. “Anyway. Since you didn’t actually read the summoning terms, let me break it down for you.”

Jake stretches, rolling his shoulders. “You get seven days. Seven wishes. Once those are fulfilled, I return to my realm, and this little contract is over.”

You cross your arms. “And what happens if I don’t make any wishes?”

His smirk deepens. “Then I stay here. With you. Forever.”

Your stomach drops.

Jake chuckles at your reaction, clearly enjoying himself. “Don’t worry, angel. You don’t have to wish for something crazy—just something. Otherwise, you’ll have me as a permanent roommate.”

“Great,” you mutter. “Because that’s exactly what I wanted—Satan’s little helper haunting my apartment.”

Jake laughs. “Oh, I like you.”

You huff, exasperated. “Fine. Since I have no choice in this, I guess I should introduce myself too.”

He tilts his head, waiting.

You sigh. “I’m . Fifth-semester biotechnology student, struggling to survive exams, caffeine addict, and now, apparently, an accidental demon summoner.”

Jake whistles, leaning against your desk. “Biotechnology, huh? So, what, you make potions?”

You snort. “It’s more about genetics, microbiology, and improving food production. Less ‘magic spells,’ more ‘science and suffering.’”

“Sounds boring,” he says.

You glare. “Sounds like you wouldn’t understand even if I explained it.”

Jake grins, leaning in. “Try me.”

His sudden proximity makes you stiffen. He’s close enough that you can smell him—a strange mix of something dark and intoxicating, like spice, smoke, and danger.

Your eyes flick to his lips before you snap back to reality, heat rushing to your face.

Jake notices.

And he smirks. That bastard.

You step back, clearing your throat. “Ahem. Let’s focus on the contract, shall we?”

Jake doesn’t move. If anything, he steps closer, his body heat pressing into you, golden eyes flickering with interest.

“You know, angel,” he murmurs, voice dropping just a little lower, just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Most humans who summon demons want one of three things—power, money, or revenge. But you…”

He trails a single finger along your jaw, featherlight. “You don’t seem like the type.”

Your breath catches.

For a second, the air between you crackles.

Then, like nothing happened, he pulls back with a lazy smirk. “Guess I’ll just have to figure you out.”

You exhale sharply, heart pounding.

Oh, he is going to be a problem.

Eventually, after way too much teasing, you sigh, rubbing your temples. “Fine. If I have to make a wish, I’ll start with something simple.”

Jake raises a brow. “Oh? Something like wealth? Power? Eternal youth?”

You shake your head, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“I wish for a cup of hot chocolate.”

Jake stares at you.

Then—

“You’re serious?”

You nod.

For a moment, he just looks at you, as if he’s waiting for the punchline. Then he bursts out laughing—the sound rich, warm, and infuriatingly smug. He snaps his fingers. A steaming cup of cocoa appears in your hands, complete with tiny marshmallows.

But as you take a sip, Jake suddenly leans in behind you, his body brushing lightly against yours as he peers over your shoulder. “Is it good?”

You nearly drop the cup. “Jake—personal space!”

He chuckles, voice way too close to your ear. “What? I just want to make sure my first granted wish meets expectations.”

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to focus. The warmth of his breath lingers against your neck, and you hate that your body reacts to it.

It’s going to be a long seven days.

Jake watches you, his smirk softening. “That’s one,” he murmurs.

You swallow. Six more to go. And something tells you—

This week is going to change everything.

back to the list ⋆˚࿔

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen fic #jake sim #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun x reader #jake x reader #enhypen jake

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harrywavycurly · 8 hours ago

Text

Handle With Care: What Have You Heard?

Masterlist: Here

CW: Language, one tiny moment of anger/jealousy, mentions of how your ex treated you and so much fluff it might make you sick😂

A/N: I left this open to revisit these two weirdos because I have truly loved writing them. Thanks for allowing me to take a stab at frat Harry! This has been a very fun mini series and I’m glad y’all enjoyed it! I hope you’re happy with their ending✨

Tag List: @gmikaelson @ell0ra-br3kk3r @tulips4harry @mellamolayla @mads3502 @empathyroad @idk199o @sassamanda77 @maudie-duan @macy-tpwk @namoreno @coralferrio1 @stylesftcher @mema10 @cherryloveshs @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @triski73

Summary: Harry is determined to get you to like him while you are more worried about the fact he hasn’t kissed you yet✨📦

It’s only been a little over twenty four hours since you asked Harry to leave your apartment and it’s as if all of a sudden the universe doesn’t want you to have the chance to forget about him. You’ve seen him everywhere possible in the apartment complex the two of you live in, the first time was in the elevator which is understandable since you live two floors under him. You were bound to see him on his way down to the lobby or the gym, but you just weren’t expecting it to happen so soon and what you really weren’t expecting was for him to look so distraught when his eyes met yours. The look on his face was as if he wanted to reach out and touch you but he had to hold himself back resulting in an almost painful looking smile making you just look away and down at your feet as the two of you endured a silent ride down to the parking lot.

The second time you saw him was at the gym that same evening, and the embarrassing thing about this moment was the fact you weren’t even there to work out. You just finally had a chance to go take a look at it, figuring that maybe one day you’ll want to use it so it would be nice to be sorta familiar with the space and he just so happened to be there running on a treadmill that was facing the door. It was as if he could just sense you had entered the room because he looked up and immediately you felt a flush cover your face because he was extremely shirtless allowing you to see every inked inch of his torso including the butterfly on his stomach and then there were his arm, his very well defined arms. You know he saw you because his eyes lit up and a small smile formed on his face while you tried to figure out how to leave the space as quickly as possible without making it seem like he was the reason you were leaving in such a hurry.

Now it’s been a full two days and you have managed to run into him in the mailroom. You silently curse your amazon addiction because of course Harry is also down here getting his package since they got delivered by the same delivery person. But unlike the other times he’s seen you Harry decides that this time the two of you should talk because clearly the two of you aren’t going to be able to avoid each other as easily as you thought while living in the same complex.

“I’m sorry.” The moment the words leave his mouth you find yourself freezing in your spot by the shelf that has your box on it. “I shouldn’t have assumed some flowers and a box of plates was going to be enough get you to forgive me and want to ride off into the sunset together.” He lets out a sigh as he basically talks to your back since you don’t make any moves to turn around and look at him.

“I do forgive you Harry.” You tell him as you turn so you can face him, keeping your eyes on the floor. “It just doesn’t change how you acted and-and that’s why I’m not riding off into the sunset with you.” When you finally look at him he just nods his head because he knows he can’t change how he acted towards you, he can only show you how it’s not how he normally acts.

“I just want you to get to know me. Because that’s the only way you’ll understand that I’m not full of shit when I say I’m usually not like that.” Harry really doesn’t care how desperate he sounds because honestly that’s exactly how he feels.

He knows he should give you all the space and time possible for you to be the one to want to get to know him but he just can’t risk that never happening. Something inside of him knows the two of you aren’t meant to never speak again, he knows there’s something there and he’s not going to give up on it even if it means begging you to give him another chance.

“Maybe we can go have coffee or something simple like that? It doesn’t have to be anything besides two people getting to know each other.”

“I uh don’t know Harry I’m-I’m sorry I have to go.” You look away from him so you don’t have to see the utter disappointment on his face as you turn and grab your box off the shelf before you walk out of the mailroom door.

“Smooth Harry real fucking smooth.” Harry mumbles to himself as he runs a hand through his hair before he grabs his packages and leaves the mailroom, making sure to use the stairs so he doesn’t end up making you feel uncomfortable by sharing an elevator with him.

When you get back to your apartment you do the only thing you can think to do in this situation. You reach out to Niall who shockingly also happens to be in your complex, at least for the evening. So with a promise from him to stop by in the morning on his way out you begin to relax a little. You know that Niall will help you come to a decision about what to do about Harry because he’s known him for years so if anyone can shed light on how Harry really is it’ll be his bestfriend, Niall Horan.

Niall tries not to look at you like you’re crazy as you stand in the middle of your kitchen holding your mug of coffee while you tell him everything that happened when you saw Harry a few days ago. He nods along to your story as he leans against your counter with his arms crossed over his chest, giving you his full attention as you tell him one of the oddest stories he’s heard in a while because he’s not sure he’s ever experienced anything like the tingling and warming sensation you’re describing all because Harry touched you. But this isn’t the first time he’s heard about the odd zap like feeling because Harry described something very similar happening to him whenever you touched him so he knows it has to mean something he’s just not sure what exactly.

“Okay so he was an asshole to you because he likes you so much? That’s what he said?” Niall asks making you just nod your head before taking a sip of your coffee. “So you’ve somehow made the wires in that small little brain of his all crisscrossed makin’ him act like a right jackass.”

“I just don’t think that’s a good excuse for how he acted.” You argue as you walk over and place your mug in the sink. “I don’t want to let someone who can be mean like that into my life again.” You explain as you look down at your slippers, not wanting to see the sad and sympathetic look Niall is going to give you because it’s one you’re used to getting once people realize who your ex is because he isn’t known for being the nicest or the most caring.

“Now I know Harry was a bit of a twat but trust me love I’d never suggest the two of you get to know each other more if I thought for a second he was anything like that actual wanker of an ex of yours.” Niall says in hopes it’ll reassure you that Harry isn’t as bad as he made you think he was, he just had some issues going on that he couldn’t get control of such as his brain not telling him when to keep his mouth shut.

“I don’t know Niall he acted just like him.”

“Ever since he’s realized he likes you he’s been nothing but nice right?”

“Yes but that doesn’t change how he acted before he realized how he felt about me. We aren’t kids anymore we don’t go around being mean to girls we have crushes on.” Niall can’t say anything to that because you’re right, Harry has some things he needs to really make up for.

“I get that. But let me ask you this. What all have you heard about Harry Styles?” You let out a sigh as you send Niall a glare as he quirks a brow at you waiting to hear what all you’ve heard about his bestfriend.

“That he’s charming and nice.”

“What else?”

“He’s handsome and at parties he plays good music and uh I think some girls said they’d feel fine leaving their drink alone with him at a party. He’s funny uhm-oh he gives good hugs.” Niall has to hold back his laugh at your last thing because it’s one he’s also heard about Harry and he would have to agree, the man gives a damn good hug.

“It’s because he doesn’t pull away until you do-the hug thing. That’s why they are so good.” You feel your cheeks get warm as you imagine Harry holding you until you feel ready to let go, wondering if he’d really let you stand there for however long you needed or if he’d get annoyed with your clinginess after a minute or two. “But do any of those things sound like someone who’s that big of an asshole? I don’t think Cody has ever been called charming a day in his bloody life.” Niall points out as he walks the short distance so he’s closing the gap between the two of you allowing him to place a hand on your arm.

“Maybe just let him try to show you the Harry he normally is? Because you can’t deny that there’s something going on between you two with your tingles and his zaps.” You smile as he gives your arm a gentle squeeze. “And if you get to know him a bit and still think he’s a raging asshole then so be it. Just kick his lanky ass to the curb and move on.” Niall smiles when you let out a little giggle as he runs his hand up and down your arm a few times before letting go.

“I guess I-I could maybe try to get to know him a little more.” You say giving in to Niall’s sweet talking about how if all else fails you just tell Harry to leave you alone for good and move on with your life.

“M’gonna be honest with you love I think he’s like proper smitten with you so uh-don’t be all shocked if he comes on a little strong.” He warns as he turns to make his way towards your front door, you feel your tummy do a weird flip thing as you try to think of Harry being so far gone for you while you don’t even know if you want to be around him or not.

“But he’s still a gentleman of sorts so if you tell him to fuck off he will. Just wanted to give you a warning that’s all.” He rushes to explain when he turns to glance at you over his shoulder and sees a panicked look on your face.

“Thank-” Your words are cut short by a knock on your door that makes Niall instantly turn to answer it as if he was the one expecting company at your apartment. You tighten the belt of your robe as Niall swings the door open only to reveal a very startled looking Harry.

“Niall? Wha-what the hell are you-” Harry stops talking as he looks over Niall’s shoulder and sees you standing in your kitchen in a colorful robe that ends a few inches past your knees with your hair in a messy bun as if you just woke up. But it’s when he looks at Niall who is in just jeans and a wrinkled shirt with his hair all over the place that he begins to feel a surge of anger corse through his veins.

“Now don’t go overreactin’ Harry I just came by to see how she was doing and she made me some coffee that’s all.” Niall quickly explains once he can practically see the steam coming off Harry as his green eyes stare into his blue ones.

“Really? You just happened to be in the neighborhood is that is?” You furrow your brows as you cross your arms over your chest and watch the two men standing in your doorway have an intense staring contest.

“I was actually. Just a floor above if you must know so I figured it would be rude if I left the building without popping by.” Harry raises a brow at Niall who just gives him a playful wink as he reaches out and pats him on the shoulder. “Now if you don’t mind I’m gonna go do my walk of shame back to my car. Call me whenever you’re done bein a prick.” Harry’s glare softens as he finally puts together exactly what Niall is saying, you just shake your head as you watch Harry move to the side so Niall can make his way out the door and into the hallway.

“I hope you were safe because the world doesn’t need anymore Horans yet!” Harry shouts down the hallway at Niall who responds with flipping Harry the bird as reaches the elevators.

“Good morning Harry.” Your voice brings Harry back to the whole reason he’s standing in your doorway, you can see him physically become more relaxed as soon as he turns his head and makes eye contact with you. His shoulders slump the slightest bit and his eyes get this soft look to them while the corners of his mouth turn upwards giving you a hint of a smile.

“Good morning.” He says with a smile as he brings his hand up to give you a small wave while he looks at you with a fondness that has a small blush beginning to creep its way onto your cheeks.

“You can come in if you’d like.” Harry eagerly steps inside your apartment, closing the door behind him before he takes a few small steps towards where you’re standing in the kitchen.

You can tell he is nervous and you can understand why, when you saw him last night he was asking you to give him a chance to get to know him and you walked away, making you still a little shocked that he decided to come knock on your door this morning. But then you remember what Niall said about him being smitten with you and it makes a little more sense as to why Harry just can’t let you go.

“Do you maybe want to take a walk with me? Through the park across the street?”

“A walk?”

“Uh yes or do you-you prefer the word stroll instead? I can call it whatever you want.” He fumbles a bit as you stare at him with an expression he can only take as confusion. You chew on your bottom lip as you look down at your robe and the slippers on your feet, of course this doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry so he tries to offer a solution. “I can wait at my place for you to get ready if you want? Or if you don’t want to go that’s fine too I can-”

“You really came here at eight in the morning to see if I wanted to go on a walk?” You question as you look back up at him not fully understanding why he would bother asking you on a walk when he mentioned wanting to get coffee just last night.

“I figured it would be better if we hung out in open places so if you uh get-get upset or something you wouldn’t feel trapped with me you could just walk away.” As odd as his reasoning sounds you can’t help but feel a small smile want to form on your face at the fact he doesn’t want to make you feel like you’re stuck anywhere with him if you suddenly feel uncomfortable.

“That’s very thoughtful of you Harry.” He smiles at your kind words, you move around the kitchen and begin heading for your bedroom making Harry wonder if you’re about to kick him out or just leave him standing there like the idiot he’s beginning to think he is. “I’ll just be a few minutes. Feel free to have some coffee if you’d like.” Your words make a sigh of relief escape Harry’s lungs as he gives you a nod before you disappear into your bedroom to get dressed.

There’s an odd but also comfortable silence surrounding you and Harry as you walk through the park across from your apartment complex. You can feel his eyes on you every now and then but you haven’t let yourself look over at him yet, knowing that the moment you do you’ll get distracted by the way his hair looks pushed up and out of his face or how nice his arms look in the fitted black t shirt he has on with his usual skinny jeans and boots. And right now you want to try to just enjoy his company without any distractions but Harry seems to have other plans because just at you’re about to turn down a little path that passes the fenced in dog park he stops walking.

“Can I test something out really quickly?” He asks while he motions towards a bench behind you. You just nod and follow him, sitting down next to him but with some space between the two of you. It’s when he holds his hand out towards you, palm up that you begin to feel nervous, not sure what he wants you raise a brow at him as your eyes glance from his outstretched hand up to his face to meet his stare. “May I have your hand please? Just for a moment.”

“Uhm okay.” Your voice is shaky as you slowly hover your hand over his, not entirely ready to actually put your hands together. Harry sensing your nervousness gives you a smile and you swear his eyes turn a whole shade brighter as they stare into yours.

“You look really pretty today.” His voice is soft as his eyes dart down to the pink t shirt you have tucked into a pair of denim shorts. “I mean you always look pretty but I really like you in pink.” You know he’s trying to distract you from your nerves with his random compliments and normally you’d roll your eyes at someone giving you more than one in a row but coming from Harry as he looks at you with such adoration in his eyes your heart can’t help but want to melt.

“Thank you.” Harry just smiles as you look down at your hand that’s still hovering over his, you let out a deep breath and in one quick motion you press it against his and immediately you feel the tingling sensation begin to spread over your palm followed by a warmth that goes all the way down to your fingertips.

“What’s it feel like for you?”

“Like a uhm bee sting but without the pain. It’s a little tingly and warm.”

“Tingly and warm huh? That doesn’t sound too bad.” As he talks Harry slowly interlocks his fingers with yours so he’s fully holding your hand causing the warmth to spread up to your wrist.

“It’s not bad it was just a lot the uhm first time it happened and that’s-that’s why I was so out of it afterwards.” You explain as you try to ignore the slight tingle that hits your elbow when Harry gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why can’t you move on from me? You don’t even really know me.”

“I don’t know why I can’t move on from you. All I know is that you’re all I think about when you’re not around and anytime you touch me it’s like a lightning strike that goes all the way through me. I know that there’s something here and that you feel it too but you’re scared and that’s okay.” You swallow the small lump forming in your throat as Harry releases your hand so he can stand up and step over so he’s right in front of you. “I get why you’re scared. I was an asshole and you deserve better and you don’t even know if I can give you what you deserve because you don’t really know me either.” He kneels down so he can be eye level with you as he places a hand on your knee making a light tingling sensation go down to your toes.

“But all I’m asking is for you to give me a chance. To give this a chance.” You don’t know if it’s the way his voice hits your ears and sends a slight shiver down your spine, his hand on your knee that’s spreading a warmth down to your ankle, the way his eyes feel as if they can see right into the deepest parts of your heart as he stares at you or a mixture of all three that makes your mind suddenly forget all about the fear of getting hurt again.

“Okay.” You can tell by the look on Harry’s face that he wasn’t expecting the hear what you just let slip out of your mouth.

“Really? You-you’re serious? You want to give this a chance?” Harry’s eyebrows are raised in shock as the hand on your knee reaches for your hands that you have resting on your lap, placing his warm palm over both of them and giving them a soft squeeze.

“Yes.” You don’t give yourself time to overthink it, you know deep down that everything Harry has said is right. You know there’s something that keeps pulling you back to him so it’s worth taking a chance to get to know him and see where it goes because he’s worth taking a chance on. “You know I uhm saw you drop the flowers off because I was coming back from knocking on your door to talk to you about what happened the night of your party.” You confess as Harry looks at you like you’re the only person in the world that matters and in this moment he would say that’s true, or really anytime you’re around he’d say that’s true because if you’re anywhere near chances are you’re all he’s paying attention to.

“You went to my door? After I stormed off like a jerk?” He asks as he stands up and offers his hand to help you off the bench. You just nod and take his hand and feel your cheeks get warm when he doesn’t let it go, instead just slips his fingers between yours as the two of you begin walking.

“I wanted to see if you were okay and apologize if-”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I was just frustrated that you didn’t feel what I did but it turns out you just hadn’t felt it yet.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel frustrated I just didn’t understand what you were talking about and then I felt uhm a little uh weird because I was just standing there in my nightgown and slippers and you kept staring at me with this-”

“Your nightgown had me frustrated in other ways but I’m sorry I didn’t even realize I was staring.”

“Harry.” He laughs as you reach over with your free hand and smack his arm making the familiar jolt go straight down to his fingertips. “You can’t say things like that.” You say with a small smile as you look away from him and down at your feet but Harry knows you’re not really upset because you give his hand a very small but still noticeable squeeze.

“I can’t? Why not? It was a very cute nightgown love.” He asks as he looks down at you with a playful grin. Harry decides right there as the two of you are walking down the path in the middle of the park near your apartments that he likes being the reason you smile and he really likes it when he’s the one causing the light pink tint that’s dusting your cheeks.

“You know I heard you were charming but this is way more than I expected.” You tease making Harry let out a scoff.

“I’m not being charming I’m just being honest. What else have you heard about me?”

“I just told you the charming thing so it’s your turn. What have you heard about me? If you’ve even heard anything about me. I know I wasn’t nearly as popular as you around campus.”

“You don’t like parties because there’s too many people and loud music annoys you. You like to read a lot and you want to be a teacher.” You weren’t sure what Harry was going to say but you didn’t expect it to be things you know he heard from the one person who oddly knows you the least even though you dated for over a year. So it hits you a little harder than you thought it would and you feel the need to let him know a few things he said aren’t true.

“I don’t mind parties. I like being around people and loud music can be annoying but only if it’s being played next door while I’m trying to sleep. I do enjoy reading but I didn’t want to be a teacher I wanted to be a school counselor.” You correct him with a smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes and that Harry has come to learn is the one you give when you’re trying to make it less obvious that you’re upset.

“I’m sorry it’s just what he told us.”

“You don’t have to apologize it’s okay.” This time when you smile Harry notices it’s genuine. You stop walking next to the fence that separates the dog park from the rest of the park. You reluctantly let go of Harry’s hand so you can turn and place your them on the top of the fence while letting out a sigh. “He used to breakup with me on the weekends there was a party he wanted to go to without me. Normally he’d do it on Friday with some excuse about needing space because I’m too clingy and then on Monday or Tuesday he’d be at my door begging for me to take him back because he missed me so much.” Harry feels his jaw clench as you tell him one of the ways your ex mistreated you, it’s no real surprise considering Harry only knows Cody from his visits to the parties thrown by the fraternity Harry was in and he was always alone when arriving but not when leaving.

“And I used to take him back every single time. Until about two or three months ago he told me he needed some distance so he could figure out a few things and when he came crawling back a few days later I told him I was done. He didn’t believe me of course he just said I was being dramatic and he’d come back when I was done being dumb.” You let out a shaky breath as the memories of him ending your relationship every few months and how you would be devastated while he was just out getting drunk and hooking up with other people come rushing back.

“I know people thought I was an idiot for staying with him for so long but I just liked the-the comfort of not having to worry about trying to find someone because even though he was an asshole most of the time he was nice-sometimes and he was still my boyfriend. God that sounds horrible-”

“Hey you don’t have to explain yourself to me.” You feel Harry’s hand on your shoulder as suddenly he’s standing next to you. “I know he’s an asshole but if I would’ve known he was treating you like that I would’ve-well honestly I would’ve kicked his ass and-”

“Really you would’ve kicked his ass? Even though you had no clue who I was?” You ask as Harry drops his hand from his shoulder as you turn so you’re facing him while leaning against the fence. Harry wants to roll his eyes at your question because every time Harry saw your ex at one of his frat’s parties or just lingering around the house he’d want to kick him out but never had a solid reason to, so if he would’ve known all this back then he would’ve had reason to not only ban him from the fraternity’s house but also kick his ass and he would’ve loved every moment of it.

“I might not have known who you were but do you really think I didn’t notice you around campus? Like I never saw you walking around with that bright pink backpack with all those jingling keychains hanging off it? Or around the coffee shop enjoying your book while wrapped up in that yellow jumper with the white flowers all over it in the corner booth that has the most comfortable seat because the rest are lumpy and just horrible? I noticed you every time I saw you. I just didn’t know that I had been hearing about you from Cody all those times he’d come to the house and mention his girlfriend.” Harry smiles when he sees your cheeks turn a deep shade of pink as he lists off the times he saw you around campus but just didn’t know your name.

“My keychain collection is a bit out of control.” You admit making Harry laugh and nod his head as he reaches out and brushes a few hairs out of your face, tucking them behind your ear.

“So to answer your question. If I would’ve known the girl with the pink backpack and the odd ability to always snag the best seat in the campus coffee shop was the one that prick was talking about I wouldn’t have hesitated to punch him in his annoying mouth.” Harry feels a wave of protectiveness hit him as he looks at you, wanting to save you from ever having to deal with anyone who would dare talk poorly about you or treat you in a way that makes you upset.

“I’ll happily go beat him up now if you’d like? I know where he lives.” The playful glare you give him is all the answer he needs, fighting your ex isn’t allowed.

“He’s not worth it.”

“Oh I know he’s not. But you are. Your happiness is worth a few bruised knuckles.” You don’t know what to say back to him as he grabs one of your hands. “I’d do anything to make you happy.” He explains as he brings your hand up to his lips, you watch as he gives the top of your hand a quick and soft kiss making a tingling sensation spread to your fingertips.

You know he means the words that just slipped out of his mouth, you know Harry would probably do just about anything for you and instead of that making you feel nervous like it did when you first realized how much Harry liked you it makes you feel a strange sense of relief. As if now that you’ve allowed yourself to let Harry in and let him show you how he can treat you the way you deserve, your happiness is no longer something you have to worry about all on your own. It’s now something you’re willing to allow Harry to have a say in because as you stare into his emerald colored eyes you get this feeling that you can trust him with the most breakable parts of yourself.

It’s been four days since your walk with Harry and since then he doesn’t think there’s been a time in his life he’s ever felt happier. Sure there’s been times when he’s been happy and felt content with his life, but nothing compares the the feeling he gets in his chest when he sees you staring at him with a smile on your face or when he gets you laughing so hard you get tears in corners of your eyes. He doesn’t know what the two of you are doing exactly, if you’d say he’s someone you’re dating or if it’s more but he also doesn’t really care because you let him hold your hand whenever he wants and he even got to kiss your cheek last night when he walked you to your door after taking you to dinner.

Harry can feel your presence behind him as he stands outside your shared apartment complex, a smile stretching across his face as he turns around just to see you smiling right back at him and he watches your cheeks get a bit pink as his eyes roam over your frame. Something Harry has learned about you is that you enjoy wearing bright colors so it’s not shocking to him that you’ve decided to go with a pair of jeans and a yellow top with a sunflower on it. It makes sense to him that you enjoy wearing colors that are warm and inviting, just like sunshine.

“Sorry I got stuck on the second floor talking to Ms. Tucker about her cat.” You explain once you’re standing in front of him.

“Ah how is Mr. Jelly doing? I heard he’s in a bit of a grumpy mood since he started his diet.” Harry asks as he grabs your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours. You just give him a look that tells him the poor cat isn’t handling his new lifestyle very well.

“Still grumpy.” You answer as the two of you begin to walk down the sidewalk.

“You look pretty.” Harry says with a squeeze of your hand making you smile as you look down at your feet as the two of you walk, not wanting him to see how his compliment made a blush creep its way onto your cheeks.

“Thank you.” You glance over at him as he looks around to make sure it’s safe to cross the intersection, you take this opportunity to let your eyes take in his appearance. It’s not lost on you how attractive Harry is, you notice the double takes people do when he walks by and a small part of you feels a little out of place with him but you also feel a since of pride knowing he wants you to be the one standing next to him with his hand wrapped around yours. You find your eyes lingering on the practically see through black long sleeved shirt he’s wearing that lets you see all his tattoos, and when you look down you can’t help but want to let out a chuckle at the very familiar boots his extremely well fitting black jeans are tucked into.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Harry’s voice makes your eyes dart up to meet his as the two of you reach the other side of the street, feeling only slightly embarrassed you got caught staring at him but you can tell but the playful smirk on his face he doesn’t mind at all. “Do I own any other shoes? The answer is yes but honestly these are just the most comfortable.” You laugh as he gives you a wink before going back to leading you down the sidewalk.

“So you mean you would actually kick people out at the end of your parties by having someone stand on a table and-”

“Not just someone sweetheart it’s a designated brother for each party.” He corrects with a smile as the two of you sit across from each other in a cozy booth at the little ice cream shop a few blocks away from your apartment. “It’s their job to tell everyone to get out so they have to really mean it when they’re yelling while standing on top of a table. Not just anyone can get a living room full of drunk college kids to leave.” He explains and you can’t help but lean closer to him as he talks, something about how Harry explains things has you paying extra close attention and you wonder if it has anything to do with the deepness of his voice that accentuates his accent.

“Is the table necessary?” Harry smiles at your genuine interest in the different rules and odd traditions of his fraternity. “What if the person is very tall or has a loud enough voice that they don’t need to be standing on a table for people to hear them?” You begin firing off questions making Harry chuckle as he reaches over and grabs one of your hands from across the table.

“There’s been one person that I’ve seen not need the table to break up a party.” He tells you as he begins to mess with the little silver band that you wear on your index finger.

“Really? Who?”

“Niall Horan.” His answer makes you lean your head back and laugh because you can vividly imagine Niall shouting loud enough and with a slight edge that a whole house party freezes and then begins to clear out. “He’s a bit terrifying when he needs to be.”

“I can only imagine.” You say between laughs making Harry smile as he watches you try to get ahold of yourself.

“I like your laugh.” You would think by now you’d be used to Harry’s random compliments but the way even the simplest ones make your cheeks get hot has you doubting if you ever will because with his compliments comes his undivided attention as he stares right at you with a grin on his face.

The way he is always paying attention to you is still something you’re getting comfortable with. Having noticed over the past three days that even when you think he’s not really paying attention as you ramble on about something unimportant, he shocks you by asking a question or giving his opinion letting you know he was in fact listening and paying attention. Your last relationship left you feeling as if what you had to say or do wasn’t of any importance but with Harry he makes it seem as if anything that has to do with you is of the upmost importance, wanting to know every little random thing that pops into your head and checking in with you during the day to ask what you’re up to and if you need anything. The constant checking in is something you have quickly adjusted to because you like knowing Harry cares enough to text you or sometimes even call you during the day when he’s free just to see how you’re doing and to not so subtly tell you he misses you.

But that’s how your nightly meetups became a thing, him mumbling how he missed you and you telling him you’ll see him when you’re done at orientation for your new job and you two can go have dinner or take another walk. He quickly asked if dinner and a walk would be acceptable and of course you said that was fine because a part of you missed his company as well, probably not as much as he missed yours but still you found yourself missing the warmth of his touch. So that’s how you find yourself sitting across from him in the well loved ice cream shop with your sundaes long forgotten about while he tells you bits and pieces of his life in the fraternity. Already sharing with you that he’s not quite willing to fill you in on all the nitty gritty details because he doesn’t want you to see him as some asshole frat brother but still letting you in on what it was like living with Niall and ten other brothers in one house.

“Are you ever going to stop doing that?” Harry raises a brow at your question as he continues playing with the ring on your index finger.

“Doing what love?” You let out a sigh at his teasing tone because he knows what you’re talking about he just likes to make you a bit of a flushed mess.

“Just complimenting me all the time? Is this something I should get used to or is it just temporary?”

“I’ll stop complimenting you when you stop doing things that are worthy of a compliment. But honestly I don’t see that happening anytime soon or really ever. So yeah you should just get used to it.” You playfully roll your eyes at his so very Harry like answer making him give your hand a squeeze.

“Well fine then two can play this game.”

“Oh really? Hit me with it then love let’s see what you’ve got.” He teases as he lets go of your hand so he can lean back in his seat and cross his arms over his chest with a smug looking smile on his face.

“I think your hair looks really nice today.” You start off simple making him give you a slight nod of approval as he runs a hand through his curls to push them up and out of his face. “I like your shirt.” The moment the words leave your mouth you know you’ve made a mistake as Harry looks down at his shirt that leaves very little to the imagination with how sheer it is.

“Do you really?” You just nod once his eyes find yours and you can see the smile slowly stretch across his face at the same time your cheeks begin to feel warm. “What do you like about it?” He asks as he places his forearms on the table, clasping his hands together letting you get a glimpse of the rings he has on his fingers as he leans in towards you.

When you don’t respond right away due to the sudden nerves that are swirling around in your tummy, Harry decides he’s done teasing you and reaches for both of your hands.

“You don’t have to be nervous to tell me what you’re thinking. I won’t ever judge you.” He reassures you, and you instantly begin to feel a little more relaxed as the warmth of his touch travels up to your wrists. “Like right now I’m thinking about how lucky I am to be out with you because you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen and I’d tell you that at least a hundred times a day if I didn’t think you’d get sick of hearing it.” His confession has the nerves turning into butterflies that begin going off in your tummy.

“You’re very handsome.” You swallow down the nerves as Harry’s thumbs gently rub over your knuckles. “I like your tattoos and you are just uhm very-very good looking.” Your face feels like it’s one fire but you feel good letting Harry in on the fact you thinks he’s attractive, not that he’d ever have a reason to doubt how you felt about him with the amount of times he’s caught you blatantly staring at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

“I’m very happy to hear that you think I’m handsome. I’d have to go into hiding if the girl I’m infatuated with thought I was hideous.” You let out a small laugh at Harry’s lighthearted way to ease the tension that was beginning to surround the two of you, something you notice he is very good at, reading the energy of the room he’s in and knowing just when to crack a small joke or to ask a question that gets the conversation flowing in a different direction.

“Now come on.” He lets go of your hands so he can slide out of the booth and stand next to the table. “Let’s get you home before you say something really wild like you think my accent is sexy or-”

“It is.” It’s Harry’s turn to look shocked as you quietly interject on his silly little rant as you slide out of the booth and grab his hand that he’s held out for you.

“Oh stop you’re going to make my ego even bigger than it already is.” He says brushing off your compliment but the grin and slight pink hue to his cheeks is all the evidence you need that he wasn’t prepared for it so you feel good in giving him just a tiny dose of his own medicine.

“You know there’s uhm one more thing that I’ve been thinking about.” Harry looks over at you as the two of you walk out of the shop and turn onto the sidewalk.

“Let’s hear it then.” You try to calm your nerves down with a deep breath as you stop walking making Harry nearly stumble a bit as you pull at his hand that’s securely wrapped around yours to get him to stop walking. “Are you-”

“You haven’t tried to kiss me yet and I’m just wondering if it’s because you don’t think it’ll be good or is it because-”

“Hold on a minute love.” You feel as if your heart is going to beat right out of your chest as Harry stands directly in front of you with a rather serious expression on his face, one you don’t see very often. “You’ve been thinking about why I haven’t kissed you?” His voice has a gentle sort of sternness to it as he reaches up to place a hand on the side of your face.

“Yes? Do you uhm not-not want to? Because-”

“Of course I want to kiss you.” He cuts you off with a chuckle as he shakes his head in disbelief. “I just didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable since we haven’t really established what’s going on between us that’s all. But please believe me when I say I do want to kiss you it’s something I’ve thought about since the night of my party if I’m being honest.” You feel relief wash over you as Harry softly explains why he hasn’t tried to make any moves on you, all while his thumb gently strokes over your cheekbone.

“Well Harry how am I supposed to know if I want to be your girlfriend if I don’t know how you kiss?”

“Girlfriend? I was thinking more like soulmate or life partner depending on how you feel about marriage and all-”

“I’ll tell you how I feel about it after you kiss me.” Your words have Harry letting go of your hand so he can place that one on the other side of your face, his eyes stare into yours as a small smile takes over his face making you have no other choice but to return it. You watch it all happen in what feels like slow motion, he leans in and softly brushes his nose against yours before he places his lips on yours in the sweetest kiss you think you’ve ever experienced in your life. It has your lips slightly tingling and a warmth spreading throughout your whole body as your hands reach out to grab a hold of him so you can pull him closer. When Harry slowly pulls away he makes sure to keep his hands on your face, his thumbs leaving trails of tiny tingles as they run over your cheeks.

“I thi-think I uhm wouldn’t-wouldn’t mind the whole marriage thing.” You mumble in a hushed voice as Harry rests his forehead against yours. He lets out a breathy laugh as he pulls away so he can get a better look at your flushed face.

“Yeah? Should we stop by a jeweler on the way back home then? Get you sized up for a ring and all that?” Harry says only to gently tease you but when you nod your head as the hands you have fisting his shirt pull him back down so you can place a kiss to his lips he thinks maybe you’re being serious.

“Sounds good.” Harry can’t help but grin at how breathless you sound when he pulls away for the second time. His hands drop from your face making you pout at the loss of contact.

“Okay well come on sunshine we better get going before they close.” He shoots you a wink as your hands let go of his shirt so he can take his spot standing next to you on the sidewalk.

“Sunshine?” You ask as he grabs your hand and brings it up to his lips to give your knuckles a few kisses as the two of you begin walking again.

“Yeah. You’re my sunshine.” You smile at his answer and give his hand a squeeze. “Want to know what I’m thinking right now?” He asks with a playful smirk on his face.

“Yes.”

“I’m thinking that was one hell of a last first kiss.” You laugh and reach over and give his arm a little smack making him chuckle. “What? You’re the one asking to go ring shopping love so I think it’s safe to say that was our last ever first kiss.”

“You’re so lucky I find you attractive even when you’re being cocky.”

“Yeah.” You look over at him and it’s no surprise that he’s already looking at you with nothing but what you can only assume is love in his eyes. “I’m very lucky indeed.”

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velvetinkkwrites · 1 day ago

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A Place in This World is a one shot response to @ekingston's Flash Fic Challenge - four random parameters and 1,000 words max. This is a great writing exercise and I highly recommend giving it a spin (heh).

My prompts: sci-fi | stranded in a different dimension | mutual pining | a flat tire

Thank you to @beca-mitchell for helping me get it to 1,000 words on the nose (I'll take my extra credit, please), and thank you to bff @proudlyunicorn for making me aware of the challenge!

Read it on ao3.

---

Startled, Caitlyn tipped backwards with a frustrated huff as the car rattled in front of her, the force of Vi’s boot in the door nearly caving in the entire driver’s side paneling.

“What the fuck is this luck?” Vi growled. Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed as she watched Vi drag a hand through her mop of pink hair. “We’re cursed.”

With a scoff, Caitlyn pushed herself out of a shallow puddle, holding tightly to her composure so she might avoid snapping at her partner’s explosive lack of patience. “It’s not a curse,” she retorted, leaning closer to the flat tire that had nearly sent them off the road. “It’s physics.”

The air smelled of metal and something sweeter, like burnt honey. The sky overhead churned in unnatural hues of violet and neon green, the clouds moving like ink in water.

Vi crouched beside her and reached for the shredded tire, half-wrapped fingers brushing against deep scars in the rubber. “Right. Because physics explains a flat tire screwing us over in this nightmare dimension.”

Pink lips scrunched to one side as Caitlyn considered the damage done. She thought maybe they were lucky they’d only lost one tire. “The pressure distribution was already unstable from the last jump, and the terrain here is terrible. This was bound to happen, Vi.”

Vi exhaled – scoffed, more like – and Caitlyn glanced sideways to watch her rest both arms over her knee. “Okay, genius. How do we fix it?”

Caitlyn pushed up her sleeves. “Theoretically? We patch it.”

Vi’s expression went flat, unamused. “I hate when you say theoretically. ”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“How do we theoretically patch a tire without a repair kit?”

“Still working that part out.”

These sorts of hiccups were often solved by spontaneous ingenuity rather than a well-laid plan, Caitlyn thought, as she rummaged through the items they’d gathered while on this job. A mysterious jarred substance from D-516 seemed promising and Caitlyn grabbed it before making her way around the busted old jalopy – their trusted vehicle for dimension hopping.

She worked in silence, using sand from beneath her feet as an additional component for binding the black goo from D-516. Caitlyn was focused, Vi was restless. The wind picked up, carrying an eerie hum through the strange trees that lined the road – tall, spindly things with luminous blue leaves that pulsed like a heartbeat.

“So,” Vi said, interrupting the wind with her words. “Least favorite dimension of the trip so far. Go.”

Caitlyn didn’t look up. “I wasn’t a fan of D-82,” she replied, content enough to give Vi the distraction she believed she was looking for. “Being swallowed by the ground is not high on my list of priorities this year.”

Vi snorted. “Yeah, that was bad. But my vote has to go to the upside-down city.”

Caitlyn paused, her right hand covered in muck, and looked at Vi with a disconcerted brow. “Upside-down wasn’t the problem. The reason D-1601 was horrible was because you thought punching the ambassador was a good idea.”

The way Vi threw her hands up was just… so very Vi . “He insulted you!”

Was that the reason? They’d scurried out of D-1601 with tails tucked because of something the ambassador had said… about Caitlyn?

She faltered, then regained focus and continued applying the compound to the split tire. “That’s hardly relevant.”

Vi huffed and leaned back on her hands. Caitlyn thought to warn her of the water that seeped through the earth here, but her own arse was damp with it, too. At least any side effects would be enjoyed by both of them together. “Whatever. It’s not my fault you’re impossible to compliment.”

Caitlyn didn’t respond, but her jaw tightened. The flex of it was visible. Her hand slipped along the tire, flinging black goo to the ground near their feet. Vi wasn’t the first to make such a claim – her mother liked to remind her of that, too. In choosing a career path unbefitting her family name, Caitlyn had made herself undesirable . And what was that if not a woman who could not be complimented?

There was nothing to compliment, after all.

A hand at her cheek drew Caitlyn from her deep and derisive thoughts, shoulders flinching as her eyes flew sideways to meet Vi’s. It was Vi’s hand. Vi’s thumb brushing over the high cut of her cheekbone. A smudge? Grease? Goo? Or was Vi just touching her… to touch her?

Caitlyn froze, staring at Vi whose hand remained on her cheek just a second longer. She saw the moment Vi realized what she’d done. It was written in the way those steel blue eyes went wide, and in the speed with which she retracted her hand.

Good thing she did, too. Any longer and Caitlyn was sure she’d have leaned into that gentle touch.

Vi cleared her throat, rubbed at the back of her neck while Caitlyn returned her attention to the tire. “Well,” Caitlyn said, voice too steady to be convincingly natural. “We’re not entirely doomed.”

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Vi stood first, offering her hand. Caitlyn hesitated – she always did – then took it, allowing Vi to pull her up. Her hand was big, entirely too warm – it always was.

Caitlyn rode shotgun while Vi drove, pouring over a holopad with a list of coordinates for their future destinations. The tire held, Caitlyn’s ingenuity once again proving its worth.

“You ever think about staying somewhere?”

Vi’s gentle question drew Caitlyn from her planing, fingers hovering over the holo as she looked at her partner with consideration.

Vi swallowed. “I mean… one of these places. Just pick a dimension and call it home.”

Bright blue eyes remained on Vi, but Vi’s attention was on the road. “Do you?”

“Sometimes.”

Caitlyn felt that answer in her chest, because Vi had included her in these musings. These dreams of finding a place and making it home – together.

She replied softly. Softer than she probably meant to. “Maybe someday.”

#caitvi #arcane #caitvi fanfic #caitvi fic #arcane fanfic #wlw #wlw fanfic #my fic

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welcome-to-the-end-of-eras · 3 days ago

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Less than a week until The Golden Raven comes out so I’m doing my own predictions and will revisit this post when I finish it (and will ofc tag any spoilers)

1.) Idk why but I feel like Ichirou is going to hear about Neil’s hit on Grayson and try to intercept it. Not really to protect Neil or anything, but just to see what happens if Neil’s forced to do it himself. And I do think he would do it himself if it came down to it, and Jean would be an absolute wreck if he found out. This is solely based in headcanon land and the likelihood of this happening is extremely slim but I wanna put it out there just in case.

2.) Jeremy backstory my beloved. It’s going to happen in this book, but it’s definitely not going to get resolved and we’re going to be sad about it. Also if we’re following the og series timeframes, the fall banquet will happen towards the middle/end of the book, so we’re bound to get some lore about what happened there. I stand by my recovering addict theory so I personally think Jeremy may have had a nonlethal od or something of that nature at the fall banquet, but I think it’s just as likely that it’s something completely unrelated.

3.) Going off the theme of Jeremy trauma, I’m 99.9% sure we’ll get Bryson lore and figure out why Jeremy is so afraid of him. Now that Jean has acknowledged that the Trojans are his friends and he cares about them, there will be almost nothing holding him back from asking about the stuff with Jeremy’s family and I think he will be…not happy, but proud that he can be a support system for Jeremy after everything he’s already done for Jean.

4.) I do unfortunately believe the Knox’s and the Moriyama’s are linked. I don’t think Jeremy knows about it at all, but I feel like he’s going to invite Jean over at one point and Ichirou’s just going to be sitting in the living room with Jeremy’s (not) grandfather.

5.) BEGGING ON MY HANDS AND KNEES FOR MORE ANDREW CONTENT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-

6.) I don’t think the interview is going to go all that bad!!! I think it’s definitely going to be hard for both Kevin and Jean, but I don’t think it’s going to be a disaster for them either. Obviously people are going to use it to slander both the Trojans and the Foxes for the part they played in the Raven’s destruction, but I don’t think it’s going to be like a looming threat that colors the whole book yknow??? If anything I think it’s going to be what Jean and Kevin need to finally let go of the versions of each other that hurt them and allow them each to see how the other has grown. (and maybe they kiss once idk)

7.) I want a scene where the Trojan’s find out about Andrew and Neil. I want it so bad. In my head I feel like it would go like this:

Jeremy: Jean…I’m so sorry, but I just heard from Kevin that…Renee has a date for the fall banquet :(((

Jean: oh yeah she goes with the other goalkeeper every year, she told me.

Jeremy: ??? Jean you’re allowed to be upset about this ???

Jean: why would I be???

And just generally that vibe because Jean thinks it’s obvious but then remembers the Trojans have barely ever met the two of them.

8.) CAT AND LAILA LORE. SPECIFICALLY MORE LAILA LORE BECAUSE WE DON’T KNOW ENOUGH ABOUT HER. BUT ALSO CAT BC SHE’S THE LOVE OF MY LIFE. MY FAVORITE LESBIANS YOUR HONOR. (I also want my “Laila having one-sided beef with Andrew” headcanon to be real but realistically I don’t think that’ll happen)

9.) Lucas is going to blame Jean for Grayson’s death. And Jean is going to feel awful because he does in fact think it’s his fault and he never actually wanted to hurt Lucas. Also…Lucas transfer to the Ravens perhaps??? I think it’s just as likely that they’ll sort of make up but tbh I think it’s also possible that it just pushes Lucas farther onto the Raven’s side.

10.) I want an update on the Cody/Pat/Ananya situation. That’s not a prediction that’s a threat. If I don’t get one I’m rioting.

That’s it for now. Can’t promise I won’t update this later if I come up with something new but for now it be what it do.

#aftg #the sunshine court #the golden raven

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caesariawritesstuff · 2 days ago

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could i please get a single rose 🌹 + 💋 with any version of the riddler ( dealers choice ig )

with the reader being a vigilante ( who has got a catwoman and batman vibe going with riddle boy )

but she’s been kidnapped by another rouge ( once again dealers choice ) and riddler finds her to go save her and confesses his love for her after she questions why he saved her

inspo prompts

“ since when did you ever care about me ?! “ since fucking forever, you idiotic dunce “

i also just wanna say your such an amazing writer i reread C&M anytime i’ve had a remotely bad day and ik you’re gonna do so much better than i could imagine on this prompt !! ( p.s i hope you have an amazing day (:

Trapped

Summary: Edward comes to your rescue, leading to a declaration of love.

Word Count: 1.8k

Content Warning: Gunfire, mention of drugs and blood

A/N: Ahhh anon, thank you so much for your kind words! They truly mean the world to me! 🥰 I hope you enjoy!

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

It was supposed to be a simple job. You’d been tracking the merchandise – illegal weapons and drugs – that Two-Face had been smuggling into the city for some time now. As a vigilante yourself, you’d spent the last several months taking down some of Gotham’s smaller operations – but this one was the biggest one yet. The one chance you had to really cripple Two-Face’s operation and finally put the bastard behind bars.

Or, at least, it was supposed to be.

You’d done everything right. Kept to the shadows, remembered your training, moved as silent as a mouse, creeping through the warehouse as you kept your eyes pinned to the goons who patrolled the cramped halls. One by one, you’d taken them down with ease, knocking them unconscious and dragging their bodies out of view. It wasn’t even hard – it wasn’t even a challenge. The idiotic goons didn’t even realize what was happening before you’d finally knocked out the last one. All that’d been left was to destroy the merchandise with one of your exploding gadgets, a small controlled bomb, and you’d be out of here.

So when you went to inspect the giant pile of guns and weapons and bags of drugs – what you didn’t count on was the ambush from Two-Face and three other men. Two-Face had immediately put his gun to your head, and your heart dropped into your stomach, the blood chilling in your veins. You were outnumbered, with too many guns trained on you and nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

That was how you found yourself now: tied to a chair, wrists bound tightly behind your back, the thick rope cutting into your suit. Even though the suit created a nice barrier from it rubbing into your skin, there was still pain radiating up through your arm from how tight it was. Your ankles were bound, too. Blood trickled down your chin, your lip bloodied and swollen. Two-Face hit you with his gun, making you see stars when it happened, and you were still reeling from the impact of the blow. The world swayed around you, and you blinked, trying to clear your vision from the shadows creeping along at the edge.

Can’t pass out, you said to yourself, over and over again. The last thing you needed was to lose consciousness in front of Two-Face and his men.

They’d regrouped, patrolling the warehouse again, and Two-Face was standing a few feet away, a gun held tight in his scarred hand as he barked orders to the rest of his men. You tilted your head back, groggy, the taste of blood filling your mouth. You swallowed down the copper taste and looked around at the warehouse: okay, there was no way out of here. Not when you were bound like this. You frowned, your brows furrowing, anger rushing through your veins. You weren’t normally the type to be the damsel in distress, but right now, you could really use a hero.

The thought made you shudder. You might be a vigilante yourself, but you wouldn’t call yourself a hero. Not the way Batman and Robin and the rest were. You just liked taking down the corrupt criminals and trying to make Gotham a safer place – even if that meant taking down the one man you had, strangely, found yourself not wanting to take down at all.

Edward Nigma, the Riddler, was that man.

You’d met him one night when saving a poor civilian from trying to steal one of his trophies, and was almost killed in the process. The Riddler had come on the screen and laughed at you for your valiant, yet nonsensical, efforts. He called you an idiot for saving the civilian and not letting natural selection run its course.

You’d smirked at the screen. “And you think you’re so clever?” you’d asked.

He’d smirked back. “Of course I am, my dear. Unlike you’ve ever seen.”

That was how it started with him – this strange push and pull, this back and forth. Whenever you crossed paths, there was a simmering tension thick in the air between you two. And, as it seemed, he was the one man, the one criminal, you could not bring yourself to take to the GCPD, no matter how many times you had him in your grasp. There was something strangely charismatic about him, and you found you couldn’t pull yourself away from him.

But…well, none of that mattered right now. Not while your life was on the line.

You lifted your eyes, once more finding Two-Face pacing back and forth in the room. He was mumbling something to one of his men that you couldn’t hear from your spot. But you had a feeling that you wouldn’t be leaving here alive – not without a miracle.

Dammit, you thought, cursing under your breath. How could you be so careless? How could you get yourself in this situation? The question rippled through your mind, frustrating you to no end. How were you going to get out of here trapped like this?

Squeezing your eyes shut, you counted to ten. Told yourself it was going to be okay, that you would make it out of here alive, that nothing was going to happen. You were going to get out of here and—

Gunfire.

It made you snap your head up just in time to hear it echo from down the warehouse. Screams suddenly erupted from the men patrolling as everyone out, panicked, desperate to see what the commotion was. It was chaos, and the blood chilled in your veins as you sat, your own panic crawling up your throat. More shouts and gunfire rang throughout your ears, and you strained in your seat to see what was going on – but within minutes, all the gunfire stopped. The screeching of tires and smell of burnt rubber filled the quiet space, as if someone had peeled out of the parking lot in a hurry.

And then there was silence. Deafening silence.

Before footsteps pattered against the concrete. But when you looked back up, it wasn’t Two-Face or his men at all.

It was the Riddler.

He stood on the other side of the warehouse in his green suit and bowler hat, a pistol in his white-knuckled grip. A speck of crimson stained the white collar of his undershirt. A look of pure rage and madness filled his eyes, and your heart leapt into your throat at the sight of him.

“…are you going to kill me?” you asked. The first to speak.

“Of course not,” he spat, walking towards you.

“Then why are you here?” you asked. Just the sight of him made every single part of you alight with warmth and desire – a desire you couldn’t control, or even want to control.

One of his brows quirked. “Do you really think anything goes on in this city without me knowing about it?”

“Then what are you doing here?” you asked.

He studied you for a moment, a curious look in his eyes as he finally reached you. Sweat beaded on his brow and up into his hairline. The intensity of his stare made you look away.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked with a smirk. “I’m here to rescue you, my dear damsel in distress.”

That made you scoff. “Seems like you’re doing more gloating than rescuing.”

“I do quite enjoy the gloating,” he said, his smirk growing. “But you do seem to have gotten yourself into a predicament.”

“I was handling it,” you mumbled.

He eyed you. “You call this ‘handling it’?”

That made your cheeks flushed. “I’m handling it,” you said again, though the lie was thick on your tongue.

“Mhm,” he murmured with a click of his tongue.

“Why are you even here?” you demanded, not wanting to fool around anymore.

“I told you: nothing happens in this city without me knowing.”

“So you were watching me?” you asked.

“I prefer to call it keeping surveillance.”

“Like a weirdo stalker,” you said. The words made you flush.

Redness crawled up his throat. “No. it’s not like that at all. It—”

“Then what is it like?” you cried. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’ve started a war with Two-Face for what? It’s not like you’ve ever cared before—”

His eyes narrowed into slits. “Of course I care.”

“Since when did you ever care about me?” you scoffed out.

“Since fucking forever, you idiotic dunce!” he cried, throwing his hands into the air.

His words made you pause as warmth ignited in your bloodstream. Your throat tightened as you looked up at him for a long moment. “I didn’t think you were capable of caring,” you whispered, your voice a low murmur.

He shot you a look. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

A beat of silence passed as you considered the weight of his words. Maybe he was right – there were so many layers to him that you hadn’t even begun to peel back. You remained quiet as he dropped to his knees and pulled out a pocket knife to begin cutting the ropes from your wrists and ankles with a smooth, fluid motion.

“Then why save me at all?” you asked quietly.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he replied.

You weren’t sure what he was trying to say, but you only knew how you felt. Only knew what was going on inside of you, and how you felt about him.

“I…” you said, but trailed off your words.

He scowled and shot to his feet, spinning around as he placed his hands on the back of his head. You stood up, looking around, mouth tightening into a thin line.

“Why…Edward?” you asked, using his name.

That made him turn, like you’d unlocked something inside of him, his breath hitching as he faced you head on. “Isn’t it obvious, idiot?” he muttered. “I…love you. Ever since our first meeting, I’ve always loved you.”

That fateful day flashed through your mind, heart beating like a wild drum as the words died on your tongue. But your heart beat for him in the same way. It always had.

He studied you. “Every time we’ve talked, every time we’ve danced around each other, I can’t help the way you make me feel. And I’m sick of not telling you, so when I saw you were taken by Dent, I…I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.”

You smiled, walking back up to him, and pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him with a soft shush. His eyes widened as you pressed your lips to his. He pulled away for a moment, as if in shock, before leaning forward again to eagerly kiss you. His lips were rough and hard against your own, but when you pulled away, he was smiling.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, and pulled his lips back to yours once more.

#caesariawrites #the riddler #edward nigma #arkham riddler #arkhamverse riddler #edward nygma #the riddler x reader #the riddler x you #the riddler x y/n #edward nigma x y/n #edward nigma x reader #edward nigma x you

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