#I would’ve physically crashed into him but said excuse me

[awek-s]

can y’all hold off on having children im so serious like I haven’t met a single family actually parenting their kid today

[screechthemighty]

Titanfall fic writing is back, babey!! Fun fact, I started writing this *checks notes* literal years ago, but only just now circled back to it now that I'm filling in the holes in the Titanfall part of my Respawn Cinematic Universe. I will be eventually circling back to the stuff that happens after The Citadel, don't worry! I just wanted to get this one out of the way (again: literal years). AO3 link will be in a reblog, but you can read the first chapter below!

crash and burn (and then return again) | a titanfall 2 fanficpart one

cw: vomiting, loss/grief, shutdown, references to alcoholism

.

Things would’ve gone a lot differently if he were a in movie. For starters, Cooper wouldn’t have passed out within five minutes of arriving on the main battleship.

That was his own fault. His body had been giving him signs it was going to quit on him the whole flight back. He was shaky, almost dizzy, nauseous, and it felt like someone had replaced his brain with piles of stuffing. Cooper had figured it was just the adrenaline. Been there, done that. He’d be fine once he had something to eat and some real sleep. He didn’t say anything because it wasn’t a big deal.

Turned out it, was a big deal.

His memories of what exactly happened were hazy. Commander Briggs was there, he knew that, and Robert Taube. He remembered there were a lot of other people, and that he thought it was all those eyes on him (even in a positive light) that were making him feel worse. He tried to be subtle about excusing himself. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded or not; he thought someone followed him, but he couldn’t remember if it was Commander Briggs or Taube or both. Maybe it was neither. But he was pretty sure he remembered someone asking if he was okay, and replying that he didn’t feel so hot.

That must’ve been when he passed out, because his next concrete memory was lying on a moving gurney and someone checking his pulse “...repeated physical contact with an unknown energy source, we have no idea…” someone was saying.

Cooper risked opening his eyes. Commander Briggs was there, Taube, too, and a nurse, and a medical droid. It wasn’t that big of an audience, but it felt like a whole stadium of people once he realized what happened. “Did I throw up on anyone?” he mumbled.

“No,” Taube replied bluntly. “You about to?”

“...uhm…”

He must’ve gone grey or green or whatever color you turned when you were about to puke, because Taube swore and got out of the way. At least that way, Cooper didn’t throw up on anyone. Puking on the floor in front of his new CO, a respected war hero, and two medics was still in the top ten most humiliating moments of his life. There wasn’t much in his stomach to throw up, just water and one and a half energy bars. But apparently his body really didn’t want it.

There was a hand on his shoulder, someone asking him something, but Cooper barely registered the question. He stared down at the floor, eyes defocused. This had happened before, right? Fracture? Yeah. Fracture. He’d hit his head, suffered a concussion. Did he have another concussion? He’d fallen so many times on Typhon. He’d thought the jump kit and the helmet would take the worst of it but…hell, he didn’t know. He had no clue what he was doing. “Shit,” he muttered.

“Were you given any medication during Broadsword?” asked the med droid. Its voice was neutral in a calming way, but higher pitched than BT’s had been.  Thinking about BT made his stomach churn. “Exposure to any other energy sources?”

Had he? So much had happened. He could barely keep track. “Uhm...s-sansufentynal. After my drop pod landed. And...Lastimosa…” The name tasted bitter in his mouth. “…gave me something, I don’t know what. He said it might knock me out, but I’d feel better once I woke up. I was in a power chamber, there was some radiation, but I think it wasn’t so long that my suit couldn’t handle it.”

“Understood.” The med droid began speaking in softer tones to the medic, something about blood work and scans; Cooper was too busy trying to control his still-revolting stomach to really pay attention.

Am I dying? Did I really survive all that bullshit just to die like this?

“You’re not dying,” said Taube roughly. Cooper looked up at him, confused. Had he said that out loud? How out of it was he right now? “Just keep it together, kid. We’re gonna get you help.”

He was the one resting a hand on Cooper’s shoulder. The reassuring pressure of the grip contrasted with the way Taube actually looked: worn down, five o’clock shadow, bags under his eyes. He looked just as ready to pass out as Cooper felt.

Cooper couldn’t blame him for that. It had been a hell of a long day. Using the past tense didn’t feel right, though. A day like that couldn’t just be…over. Not like this. Not with…

He lay back down and shut his eyes tightly.

He can’t be gone.

How can he just be gone?

The thought kept echoing in his head as they dragged him into a private room in the medbay. Cooper went through the motions, sitting up, letting them look him over, responding to any questions he knew the answers to. The answers kept getting shorter and shorter; if that concerned the medics, Cooper barely noticed. Everything was growing more distant—sounds, sensations, the overall feeling of reality. All he wanted to do was curl up somewhere quiet and dark and sleep.

Sleep and wake up in a world where BT wasn’t gone.

.

Cooper had gone quiet.

Barker hadn’t noticed it at first. He’d only realized because he’d happened to glance in Cooper’s direction. He was hunched over, face buried in his hands, not making a sound even as his shoulders shook slightly. Barker wasn’t shocked—after everything Cooper had been through, having an emotional crash with the physical one wasn’t out of the blue or anything.

Should I do something?

Barker barely knew the guy from Adam, but he had a feeling Briggs didn’t either. That might’ve been part of the problem, now that he thought about it. All that shit and no one he could talk to about it.  Still, one of us should say something. Briggs was still talking intensely with the human medic, and the bot didn’t look like the reassuring type. It was either interrupt or…

He sighed. Ah, screw it. “Hey, Cooper?” Barker said carefully as he stepped forward.

Cooper didn’t reply.

Shit. “Cooper?” Barker repeated, a bit louder this time. When that didn’t get a response, he knew it was time to switch tactics. Cooper had been a rifleman before this; maybe he just needed a good prod from a CO to get him out of it. “Pilot,” Barker tried, trying to force his voice back into tones he hadn’t used since the IMC.

Still nothing.

Except he hadn’t been pilot for longer than a few days, right? Field promotion, no time to get used to it. So maybe…

“Hey, Rifleman.”

Cooper straightened up immediately, shoulders squared, hands dropping down from his face. “Sir,” he said. His eyes were pink, still wet with tears. He didn’t seem to register who Barker was at first; his body just responded to the rank. Muscle memory. Hell of a thing.

Barker had Cooper’s attention all right, but now he didn’t know what to do with it.

“You, uh…” Barker took another few steps forward and clumsily rested a hand on Cooper’s shoulder. “You okay?”

The kid looked at him like he was trying to figure out the right answer to the question.

That look didn’t last long. Whatever it was Cooper was trying to press down and re-shape into an acceptable answer shattered like a glass bottle. His composure and decorum went with it. Next thing Barker knew, the kid’s face was pressed against his chest as his body heaved with audible sobs.

Damn it, I am not equipped for this.

Though he may have been more prepared than everyone else there. Briggs looked just as caught off-guard as he did, and the medbot wasn’t going to be any help. The flesh and blood medic looked lost, too. Barker shot them all a baffled look as he clumsily patted Cooper’s shoulder. You’re gonna let me do this? Really? “’S’okay. Let it out.” Don’t worry about me telling anyone. I will definitely be drinking enough to forget this. “I’m sorry.”

The words tasted sharp, bitter. I get it. That part was left unspoken, but he did. The empty hole in your head, in your soul. You formed bonds quickly in combat. Cooper might not have had the years of connection Barker had with Juliet, but that wouldn’t make it hurt less. Someone sacrificing themselves for you never went down easily.

Barker gritted his teeth. Definitely drinking tonight.

“You’re safe now,” he said instead. “We’ve got you, kid.”

Cooper’s sobs slowed eventually. He let go of Barker’s jumpsuit, instead tightly hugging himself. He rocked slightly in place—self-soothing, if Barker had to guess—and his eyes stayed clenched shut. “Can’t,” he choked out.

“Can’t what?”

“It…mmph.” His shoulders hunched more tightly, like he was trying to shrink into himself. “Bright.”

Briggs finally snapped out of it and went to dim the lights. The medbot said something to the human medic, who cursed quietly and started digging around through some nearby drawers. Barker, meanwhile, crouched in front of Cooper, trying to catch his gaze. “That better?” A pause. A nod. “Anything hurt? Like, about to drop dead hurt?”

Cooper hugged himself more tightly. Damn it, I’m making things worse again. Barker didn’t think this was a panic attack; he’d seen plenty of those before. So what is it? What’s wrong?

The medic nudged him aside gently and held out something to Cooper. “Here,” she said. “Do you think you can use this?”

She small tablet she’d passed him had an application open with a bunch of buttons. Barker could see an alphabet, and some standard words and phrases. Cooper took the tablet, then stared at the application as if trying to register what he was looking at. After a lengthy pause, he tapped one of the options.

“No.”

Okay, they were getting somewhere. “No, nothing hurts?” Barker guessed. Cooper nodded. “What do you need, kid?”

A pause. This time, Cooper tapped at the letters.

“Alone.”

…yeah. Fair.

“Can we clear the room, guys?” the medic asked. To Cooper, she added, “We’ll be just outside. Come get us if you need anything, okay?”

She seemed confident that Cooper wouldn’t hurt himself or have a heart attack, so Barker followed the others outside. He took one more glance at Cooper as he stepped out, and almost wished he hadn’t. The freshly minted pilot had hunched back over, the tablet hugged tightly to his chest. It was something no one should see, least of all the drunk who’d only just met the poor guy.

Barker looked away. Jack Cooper was going to be the talk of the town when they got back to Harmony. The least they could do was let him grieve in private while he still could.

[realcube]

moan in their ear prank

characters ♡ tsukishima, tendō, iwaizumi, kenma & suna

content warning ♡ cursing, kinda crack in iwa’s, suggested punishment, sexual references, fem!reader & nsfw themes - minors dni

kei tsukishima

♡ you meant for it to be a harmless prank but everything you do to him while he is trying to study ends up as harmful towards yourself-

♡ you just had to sneak behind his desk and chair to grab your backpack which was lying on the other side so in the process, you casually leaned in to his ear and produced the most hushed, pornographic moan that you could

♡ his eyes widened as he turned to look at you with an expression which was filled with a mix of disgust, shock and horny. which resembled the look he pulled when you asked him what a Iguanodon is 

♡ it took a moment for him to lubricate his dry throat and process what you just did, but once he thought of a suitable response, he blurted out, ‘what the fuck was that?’

♡ a sly smirk graced your features, you didn’t even spare him a glance as you dipped down to grab your backpack and pull it over your shoulders, ‘nothing.’

♡ once you finally laid eyes on him, you couldn’t help but snort at his stunned look which you rarely got to see as most of the time, it’s extremely hard to catch him off-guard, ‘anyway, i should probably get going. see ya lat--’

♡ though, you couldn’t even turn around before tsukishima grabbed your wrist be glad he was sitting down or else it would’ve been your throat- , ‘you’re not going anywhere.’ then he proceeded to pull you onto his lap

♡ you giggled at how uncharacteristically bold he was being before placing a kiss on his cheek, ‘that was hot, i’ll admit. but i really need to get going - i’m in a bit of a rush.’

♡ his seductive smirk fell into a frown and he was quick to drop his bedroom persona, ‘fine, then. go be a whore somewhere else.’ he said, abruptly pushing you off his lap and focussing his attention back on his work

♡ you gasp, luckily finding your balance after he pushed you then making your way to the door, lingering there for a moment just so you could peer over your shoulder and hum, ‘alright. but you know i’ll always be your whore, kei.’

♡ tsukishima exhaled sharply through his nose, adjusting his glasses as the corner of his lip pulled into a small smile, ‘unfortunately for me, yes.’ 

♡ a few moments passed and you must’ve been admiring his effortless beauty for a bit too long as he suddenly turned to you and snapped, ‘i thought you were in a rush? why are you just standing there?! it’s freaking me out- or are you gonna moan for me again?’ he chuckled at his own teasing but when he saw that you were giving him love-dovey eyes again, a light blush tinted his face as he waved his hand for you to go away, ‘whatever, just get lost. goodbye, i love you & all that stuff.’

satori tendō

♡ he was sitting on the couch playing a game on his phone or sumn and nothing interesting had been happening lately so you took it upon yourself to make something interesting happen

♡ you approached the couch and plopped down next to him, your mouth hovering over his ear for a few moments - your hot breath tickling his skin - before you moaned in the most erotic way possible 

♡ he physically perked up then twisted his neck to look at you with an amused smirk, ‘someone’s horny.’ he commented, his attention quickly returning to his game

♡ you were excited to see his reaction but that was so underwhelming-

♡ your bottom lip jutted out to form a pout as you poked his cheek, ‘yes! aren’t ya gonna do something about it? i always help you when you’re horny!’

♡ ‘i’d love to help you out, princess. but i’m on the 48th level of candy crush. priorities.’

♡ you blinked rapidly, your gaze flickering between the phone screen and your clown of a boyfriend, ‘you know there is like..over eight thousand levels, right?’

♡ he side-eyed you with his eyebrow raised as if to say ‘fr?’ and you simply nodded in response 

♡ the app was soon deleted, ‘fuck that.’

♡ he tossed his phone aside and sighed as he stared into the void since he thought that his entertainment for the next few hours had been lost 

♡ but being the caring girlfriend you are, you were quick to swoop in and tilt his chin up to meet your longing gaze, ‘no, fuck me, satori.’

♡ and he did so gladly

hajime iwaizumi

♡ you did it to him when you saw him just lookin scrumptious asf while he making was pasta for dinner

♡ you slipped your arms around his waist and nuzzled your face into the back of his neck like you usually do when he cooks

♡ but this time, you hopped onto your tip-toes, lightly thrusted against his back and moaned quietly in his ear

♡ to your surprise, instead of getting flustered or mad, he just laughed

♡ though, it wasn’t one of his cute, toothy-grin chortles; but rather an intimidating string of low chuckles - as if he was mocking you 

♡ which he was

♡ you raised a brow, peering over his shoulder to see if he was perhaps amused by something else but unfortunately for you, he was ready to meet your gaze with a deadly glare 

♡ so yeah..you were railed on the spot <3

♡ you may be wondering what happened to your pasta but dw bc he rearranged your guts while adding oregano to that shit-

♡ multi-tasking king ✨👑

♡ like you were bent over the counter, face pressed against the cold marble and you stared directly at the fire of the stove beside you which tickled your face with a warm sensation as iwaizumi filled you up with an even warmer sensation 

♡ one of his hands massaging your waist while the other was stirring the pot 

kenma kuzome

♡ your first mistake was doing it to him while he was streaming 

♡ his camera was broken but the show must go on so it was just his voice + minecraft gameplay + you but the fans don’t need to know that 

♡ since his camera was off, kenma allowed you to sit on his lap as he played but under two conditions: you will not talk or make any noises and you can’t interfere with his game

♡ a small price to pay for some kenma snuggles :3 so ofc you obeyed

♡ well, for the first hour or so, at least

♡ after a while, it got boring just watching him play so you brought out your switch and started playing for yourself but even that became boring quickly too

♡ then the idea hit you 

♡ you were straddling him hence his ear was already by your lips, so it’s not like you’d have to move from your position

♡ plus, his mouth was very close to the mic so if you were quiet enough, the viewers probably wouldn’t hear a thing 

♡ though, you didn’t do too much reasoning, you kinda just acted on urge when you leaned in, pressed your lips together and hummed a faint moan

♡ his eyes widened and he visibly froze - if he had cat ears, they’d jolt upwards 

♡ his gaze immediately landed on the chat to ensure that nobody was going to mention it but his sudden silence probably made it more obvious that something happened

♡ the chat wasn’t flooded with inquiries but there were a few questions as to why he paused and if he was alright; so fortunately for your ass, it appeared as though nobody had heard a thing

♡ kenma hesitantly continued mining, explaining through gritted teeth, ‘oh, sorry, guys. my cat-’ he paused to pull his head back to shoot you a deadly glare accompanied by a snarl, ‘won’t shut the fuck up. shoo, kitty, we can cuddle later.’

♡ he waved his hand and you buggered off before you got caught cackling at the fact he called you ‘kitty’

♡ his chat genuinely believed him and he got a few donations solely bc they found out he’s a cat person

♡ so yeah, if anything you did him a favour but that didn’t stop him from fucking you into next week as soon as the stream ended 

rintarō suna

♡ any excuse to fuck any excuse to fuck any excuse to fuck any excuse to fuck any excuse to fu

♡ you’re just sitting on his lap, cuddling - as y’all do - when the idea occurs to you 

♡ but a mistake you made was that you carried out this prank with no intention to actually do the dirty- you just wanted to see his reaction 

♡ he thought you were just craning your neck out to place a kiss on his cheek but when he hears your melodious moan ring through his head, he turns to look at you with an eyebrow raised 

♡ ‘that’s no way to ask for my dick. try again, but nicely this time .’ he snickered, lightly patting your head, clearly amused by your little pout

♡ honestly, he has such a soft spot for you - like you just existing near him makes him feel all warm inside 💕

♡ furrowing your brows, you whined, ‘i don’t want your cock, anyway. it was just a joke to see ho--’

♡ ‘you’re so horny for me, it’s kinda embarrassing.’

♡ his cocky smirk was simply met by your blank stare

♡ there was a long while of silence between the two of you; which you spent wondering why you were even with him while he was entranced by the thought of your pretty face with his dick half-way down your throat <33

♡ until eventually he broke by whipping off his shirt, lassoed it around your neck and pulled you in so your lips crashed against his, ‘you sure?’

[shotorozu]

Hello. I got into a car accident and I was with my younger sister too. I got 2 surgeries and I don’t remember much. My younger sister got a few stitches😞 I feel horrible like an older sister.

Was wondering if I could request a head anon of where reader gets into a car accident and the characters react to it. (Tamaki, izuku, shoto and any of choice. Sad thing is my FUCKING Spanish teacher won’t respond to me and I have really bad grades on that class 😢 ( ´༎ຶㅂ༎ຶ`)

Thank you and take care also Safe driving

s/o getting into a car crash

character(s) : bakugou katsuki, amajiki tamaki, todoroki shouto (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk’s not specific

headcanon type : fluff, comfort (x reader)

note(s) : 😦 omg i hope you’re doing okay, anon- your spanish teacher better respond to you or else >:T

»»————-　♡　————-««

bakugou katsuki

when he gets word that you’ve gotten into a car crash, his hands crack with mini explosions— dropping everything to literally run to wherever you’re at

“damnit, damnit, damnit! where the hell was i when that happened?!”

appears a lot pissier than usual, in reality— he’s just really worried, and he can’t slow down his heart palpitations!

“calm down bakugou!”

“calm.. CALM DOWN? RIDDLE ME THIS, ASSHOLE—”

hm okay, so lets say that you were in the passengers seat when the crash happened

katsuki will probably want to find whoever was the driver, and just absolutely go ballistic on them, but probably ends up not doing that when he thinks about what you’d feel

and lets say another driver crashed into your car— katsuki will search high and low just to find that said driver, and he’ll show them hell

and if you crashed into a poll or something, he wouldn’t get too mad— but he’ll still scold you, and lecture you about driving safety

when he finds out you need surgery, he’ll be so upset

“what do you mean SURGERY? who the hell crashed into you, and why do they have a license?! they’re a danger to society!” he sounds angry but he’s quietly yet impatiently waiting outside for the surgery to be successfully completed

cleans and takes care of your remaining injuries, doesn’t matter if there’s a tiny little scrape on your forehead, or if you’re left with a bunch of broken bones.

he’ll be nursing you, like it or not.

he doesn’t let you leave your bed during your recovery, he insists— and you have an idea of what’ll happen if you try opposing katsuki 💀

don’t ever be worried about your grades! you have a smartie as a boyfriend, so he has probably made an extra copy of notes that you’ve missed

and he’ll probably argue with a teacher if they refuse to cooperate because,, YOU ALMOST PASSED AWAY?? is that not a valid excuse?

“i get that you’re really busy, but they literally almost died— how is that not an valid excuse? Y/N’s a hard worker, and a good one! and i will not rest until you understand!”

it might seem a little over protective of him to do this, but katsuki won’t EVER let you drive a car alone for who knows how long, he’ll be there with you just to monitor your driving.

that is, until you gain his trust back— that you could drive without almost losing yourself

amajiki tamaki

for him, it feels like the world is going slower

when he gets a call that you’ve gotten into a car crash— his anxiousness shoots through the roof, and it’s causing him to assume the worst of the worst

he’ll feel so guilty though, tears welling up in his eyes as his entire body shakes just thinking about you in a hospital bed

because,, where was he when that happened? how did he only learn about this now?

eventually, mirio and nejire calm him down to the point that they could properly bring him to the hospital you’re staying at

without him shaking like an old nokia

knows not to blame anyone, regardless of who crashed the car (he’s not confrontational anyway)

yet, he can’t help but think about how things would’ve went differently if he was there

feels frustrated to the point that he starts tearing up when he finds out you needed surgery, and even when you tell him that he can’t be guilty because of you

he still is 😔

anyways, when your surgery is completed— he eventually musters the courage to just put all of his nervous feelings aside for now, and take care of you like the sweetheart he is!

knows a shit ton of food (courtesy to his quirk) so he cooks you something new everyday during recovery

during your recovery, tamaki isn’t fond of the idea of you walking around, doing things as if nothing happened. he ends up making sure you stay in bed, by staying in your room for days

it might take a while for him to be reassured that you won’t accidentally end up in a ditch again, but for now— you’re carpooling with the big three

worried about your grades because of the time you’ve missed during your recovery? no worries! tamaki made an extra copy of notes, and basically summarized it in a way you could understand!

it’s a rollercoaster 💀 but at least this made tamaki take initiative, even without being pushed to do so!

let’s just say, mirio and nejire are really proud of him :))

todoroki shouto

he’s been wondering why he hasn’t seen you in a few hours, and on top of that— he hasn’t been able to contact you

like,, at all. but, he thought you were just feeling ill— so he decided that he was going to head over to your place after his tasks were taken care of.

but that’s all forgotten, when he finally gets word that you’ve gotten in a car crash— and that’s why you weren’t there

he literally freezes in place, and his reaction was almost like he saw the endeavor-nomu fight all over again.

the idea of his love being in critical state, made the normally calm todoroki placed in distress

after being calmed down by his fellow classmates, he quickly abandons whatever he was doing, so he could rush to the hospital

currently, you were in surgery. he appeared pretty calm on the outside, but internally— he was a mess. though, he did have to keep it together for you

when shouto finally meets you out of surgery, his gaze is soft “hi love— no, don’t stand up! just stay there. do you remember what happened?”

your description of it all isn’t the best, but he couldn’t blame you at all

if another driver crashed into you, it’ll be an intimidating encounter,, he won’t be physical, but his words will be harsh— not even caring about the fact that the driver is literally quaking in their shoes

and if you were in the passengers seat, shouto will briefly look at them with pure disappointment— he can’t really help it,,

but he can’t find himself being mad if you were the driver, he’s just glad that you’re still with him as you could tell, shouto’s only soft for you

immediately goes shopping for groceries after he takes you back, and you’ve guessed it! he makes you soba, since you’re fresh out of the hospital

insists that you stay bed ridden, and you can’t seem to oppose— since he’s giving you the softest of gazes.

unintentionally isolates you during the entire recovery stage, because he’s so absorbed with taking care of you— that he didn’t even think if you wanted to see your classmates

not that you’re complaining,, you get to see shouto and only shouto for an entire week or so!

he lets your classmates and friends see you after a bit, but he insists that they don’t speak too loudly— worried that they’ll accidentally ache your head

(that’s when everyone found out about shouto’s great caretaking ability)

worried about your grades and classes? shouto will handle it. he’ll reach out to your teachers/professors, and he’ll try to make some negotiations, he makes sure to tell them that you were taking time off because of a health emergency

will he immediately let you be in a car by yourself after? hm,, maybe not— it’ll take some time for you to be able to drive alone again. if you need to go somewhere by car, he’ll accompany you :))

he will NOT let another accident happen, not on his watch! his heart wouldn’t be able to handle it

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[egcdeath]

second chances

pairing: softdark!steve rogers x reader 

summary: you wake up on the side of the road with no memories, no possessions, and no place to go. luckily, an attractive stranger arrives just in time to help you out. 

word count: 4.6k

warnings: there are some soft moments, but this is ultimately a dark fic!!! alluding to kidnapping, deceit, mention of knife, drugging, abuse (mostly mental/emotional, but implied physical), amnesia, brief alcohol mention, nightmares, mention of bodily harm, bed sharing **if i’m missing any warnings, let me know

author’s note: this is my first dark fic without a dark reader, so please be nice! it took me nearly a whole month to get it where i want it to be (i’m a slow writer, i know) but i’m actually pretty proud of this. 

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

After what seemed like years of waiting, the opportunity finally lent itself, a small pocket knife sat right in your peripheral view. A dangerous mixture of adrenaline and impulse filled you, not even granting you the time to think before you were clumsily extending your arm, and wielding the knife. 

The blade popped out, and you held it with a shaky hand in front of your captor.

“Really?” he scoffed, “you’re gonna kill me.”

There was no attempt on his part to stop you, in fact, he smiled and leaned back slightly.

Your whole body trembled at this point, you could barely form words, let alone move. But this was your chance.

“So do it, Y/N. Kill me,” his voice steadily rose as he approached you, long legs making their way across the room.

Before you knew it, he was standing in front of you, hand approaching your own. He wrapped it around your wrist and gripped down on you like a snake, causing you to emit a tiny yelp.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked, voice steady as your hands trembled around the grip.

“Exactly. You’re still as fucking pathetic as you were the day I met you,” a slap stung your left cheek, a mark that was sure to be there for the days following. 

The knife clattered as it hit the linoleum floor, and you followed its path, crumbling on the floor and breaking into tear-less sobs. 

“Remember this moment, sweetheart. You’ll never get a chance like this again,” he swooped up the knife before walking away from you, leaving a broken woman in his wake.

——

You went from experiencing nothing to everything all at once. Your brain seemed to be attempting to escape your head as it pressed against your eyes, and you struggled to open them, lashes feeling like they were glued together. Rain poured down on your head, and you concluded that it had been pouring on you for a while, as you were completely soaked to the bone. 

As you looked at yourself and your body, a curled up and bruised mess on the side of the road, you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly happened to you, or at all. You weren’t even sure that you had memories apart from the ones that were processing in that exact moment. It was as if you’d exited the womb for a second time, clueless to where you were, who you are, or how you got there. 

You shivered as you pulled yourself to your feet, weak ankles shaking in glittery heels and body trembling in a half-torn dress. Wherever you came from couldn’t have been good.

You slipped off the shoes and held them in your hands as you walked down the side of the deserted road, bare feet sloshing in mud as you did so. You didn’t have an idea where you were, or where the nearest sign of life was. You were tempted to walk on the soaked, petrichor scented road, but you knew that that wasn’t your best idea.

You truly had no good options. Nothing to do. Nowhere to go. No one to save you. You wanted to collapse back onto the ground, give into your screaming body that was becoming more and more tired by the moment. Hot tears began to slip down your face, contrasting the cold of the raindrops falling onto your body. 

All hope was lost, you’d die any time now, and that would just be it. You looked up at the overcast sky and screamed at it, mentally begging for someone, anyone, to help. That you’d forever be grateful to god, or the universe, or whatever it was that was out there that put you in the situation you were in. 

You screamed and sobbed until your throat was raw, and you weren’t sure you’d be able to produce any more sound, sitting down onto the damp ground and wishing for your inevitable death to be a swift and painless one. 

Yet, your pity party was crashed just moments later by a beaming red light and the soft hum of a motor coming down the road. This was your one chance. Who knew when the next time you’d see a sign of human life was?

You jumped to your feet and waved your hands like a madwoman, trying to catch the attention of the male behind the driver's seat. He began to come to a stop, pulling over a bit to see you better.

His face was angelic, a strong jaw and soft eyes that looked like they had seen more than the average person. When he spoke, you felt heaven become drowsy with harmony. Or maybe you were just really tired. Regardless, your pleas to a higher power had proved fruitful, as your knight and shining armor had just pulled up beside you to save the day.

He rolled a window down, and you got closer to the door.

“Need a ride, ma’am?” he called.

You simply nodded and approached the vehicle, opening the door hesitantly. You sat down on the seat, and jumped a bit when you felt heat radiating onto the back of your thighs.

“I’m Steve. You?” 

You chuckled awkwardly, “that’s a great question that I wish I could answer. It’s actually kind of a long story. Well, I assume it’s long since I can’t remember any of it. But maybe I will later. Nice to meet you anyway, Steve.”

He nodded understandingly, completely unfazed by your lack of name. Maybe he had prior experience with hitchhikers, as he was approaching this situation with a nearly suspicious calmness. “Well… where’re you heading?” the man asked, looking over at you.

“I, uh, I have no idea,” you said raspily, throat still sore from your previous screaming.

The blonde’s lip quirked at this, as if he were holding back a much bigger smile, “that’s fine. I’m heading a few towns away, but I was thinking of stopping and getting some breakfast. You interested in that?”

You shrugged, becoming slightly uncomfortable in the quickly dampening seat. Steve glanced over at you after putting the car in drive, and noticed your discomfort from your prior stay in the rain.

“We can stop by a bathroom first. I’ve got some extra clothes with me in the back,” he suggested. You nodded quietly, looking at the vast, and empty road ahead. 

----

You sat in a diner booth dressed in a thick jacket and comfortable sweatpants that oddly enough, seemed to be exactly your size. Steve approached the table with an extra plate of fries, and set it gently in front of you. 

“So you don’t remember anything?” he asked, stealing a fry before sitting down across from you. 

You shook your head, bringing a salty fry to your mouth, “I swear I just woke up there. No memories, no nothing, no place to go. I mean, I was gonna die out there if you didn’t get me.”

Steve scoffed a bit at this, “that’s not true. I’m sure someone would’ve helped eventually.”

“Maybe. But I’m glad that it was you,” you looked up at him, and the fondness he was looking at you with was nearly suffocating. 

Steve paused for a moment, mulling over his next words as if he was looking for the exact right thing to say.

“Would you like to stay with me? I mean, I know we just met each other, but I just have this feeling. Like I was meant to find you. Besides, it doesn’t seem like you have anywhere else to go.”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you excused after a moment, popping out of the both and heading towards the ladies room.

You handled your business, and stared at yourself in the mirror as you washed your hands. Makeup ran down your face, and it almost appeared that you were melting. Who would pick someone up in such a state? You had to question this Steve guy’s character a little bit. You couldn’t remember the exact phrase, but it couldn’t be smart to get into a car with a stranger. Especially a stranger offering to take you to some secret location with them. After all, he could be a murderer, a kidnapper, or a rapist. You would be none the wiser.

But he fed you, clothed you, and offered you a form of shelter. He couldn’t be too ill intentioned if he was willing to go out of his way to help, right? Maybe he just wanted to keep you off the streets, and that was why he was willing to take you to wherever it was that he was going.

Your stomach turned the longer you watched yourself, the longer you thought. Perhaps your intuition found that something was off. But who even knew if you could trust your intuition, after all, you were basically a day old, and you didn’t seem to have any other option.

——

You ended up going back out into the diner and accepting Steve’s offer. You didn’t really have much of a choice, and he wasn’t exactly a bad one. 

Steve was quiet for the majority of your trip, only speaking when he noticed that you’d moved your sights from the window over to him. He didn’t seem to be a fan of the way you were studying him, but for some reason your eyes kept finding him.

Hours had passed in the day, and night was quickly approaching. You dozed as you watched the starry night from the passenger window. Your eyes were becoming heavier by the moment, hours worth of watching flat landscape, combined with the complexity of your day finally catching up to you.   

——

Cold. You felt cold. The floor was cold. The blood running through your veins was cold. Your brain was cold and freezing, hindering you from properly processing what was going on in front of you. 

A searing pain rolled through your body as you tumbled down the stairs, back into a room that was suffocatingly familiar.

“I should’ve never allowed you to leave. Ungrateful,” a faceless man followed you down the stairs and hovered over your now battered body. “I give you a home and you complain. I take care of you, giving you almost anything you could ever ask for. You complain. Do you know how many people would kill to be in your position? With someone like me taking care of them?” 

“You told me you loved me, you goddamn liar. I let you come upstairs, and you try to fucking kill me. I should kill you,” he seethed, leaning down over you.

But I won’t.

The words were unspoken, but familiar. A threat uttered to you before, usually followed with an ‘I’ll make your life a living hell instead.’

You were unable to speak, as if someone had ripped out your vocal cords. Suddenly the faceless man was reaching down and holding the bloody organs in his hands. Your blood ran cold once again. 

“You can’t even fathom the hell I want to release on you right now,” he continued, chest puffing out with exaggerated, angered breaths. “But I’ll be the bigger man. Because I love you,” he dropped the cords on the ground beside you, and your eyes flicked over to the mutilated part of yourself. “Y/N, I need you to prove to me that you love me.”

You wanted to beg, to plead and tell the man whatever he needed to hear in order to release you, but you were completely powerless. 

The man hoisted you up with ease, and you soundlessly whimpered. He carried you into a small, plain room and set you on the flat, stiff mattress on the floor. 

“Come on, Sweetheart. You know I’m doing this for us.” 

The faceless man kissed your forehead, and the feeling of dread overtook you.

——

You awoke with a gasp, clawing at your own neck to make sure that your vocal cords were still intact.

“You alright?” Steve asked, glancing over at you. “Should I pull over?”

“No, I’ll be fine,”  you whispered.

“Take some deep breaths for me, okay?” he advised, setting a reassuring hand on top of yours. “We’ll be at the hotel any minute now.”

——

Your nerves were absolutely fried by the nightmare. Your hands shook like leaves in the wind while you stood next to Steve as he checked you into your hotel room.

“How’re you doing?” he asked in the elevator, setting his large hand on top of yours once again. The gesture was calming, even if you felt a slight undermining feeling of something unsettling.

“A little better. I probably just need to lay down somewhere comfortable.”

Steve nodded and squeezed your hand, “you’ve had a long day. You have first dibs on the shower. Maybe it’ll help you relax.” 

The smile that Steve was giving you was comforting. You felt glad that he was the person to have picked you up.

The elevator made a little ding noise before the doors opened, and he guided you to your room. 

You made a beeline to the shower, not even taking the time to be impressed with the size of the hotel room, the amenities, or the quality of it. You just wanted to shed your clothes and find at least a moment of peace. 

You exited the bathroom after about a half an hour, and walked out into the suite in just a towel. 

“Can I borrow some more clothes?” you glanced over at Steve, who was openly checking you out from the comfort of the bed.

Wait, the bed.

There were way too many things going on for you to be focused on the fact that there was just one bed. Maybe Steve would offer to sleep on the sofa.

“Yeah, that’s fine. My teammate left some clothes in that smaller blue suitcase. It’ll probably fit,” Steve paused for a few moments as you found the aforementioned suitcase and looked for something comfortable that you could actually sleep in.

“Who did that to you?” he asked, gesturing at your bruised legs.

“I don’t… I don’t know. It’s all so blurry,” you sighed, settling on a fresh pair of sweatpants and a thin t-shirt. “I’ll be right back.”

You changed quickly in the residually steamy bathroom, and sat down at the foot of the bed. 

“Do we need to have a fistfight over who gets to sleep in the bed?” Steve joked and you shook your head.

“I can sleep on the sofa, if you want.”

“No way. You deserve something comfortable,” he got out of bed, and approached the bathroom to take his own shower. “Get nice and cozy, friend. You deserve it.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, and you moved up to the top of the bed, slipping under the covers and sighing aloud from relief. Your body was finally having a chance to relax, and the hotel bed was surprisingly comfortable. 

By the time Steve returned from the shower, you were already half asleep, and very unaware of your surroundings.

As you fell out of consciousness, you had blurry visions of confinement, punishments, and pain. You once again woke up with a gasp, but this time Steve was standing over you. 

“Deep breaths, okay? I saw you thrashing and mumbling something to yourself. I think you were having a bad dream.”

You nodded and panted, trying to catch your breath and slow down your hummingbird heart rate. 

“You’re safe, I promise.”

“Can you stay with me?” you stammered out.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve got into bed beside you, and rubbed your back as you curled into a fetal position, “just try to relax, okay? There isn’t anything to fear when I’m here with you.”

You nodded, clutching onto Steve’s genuine tone. Something about him just made you feel… safe, despite the possible red flags around him. 

After Steve got into bed with you, you were finally able to fall into a dreamless and peaceful sleep. 

——

You woke up to an empty and cold bed. You blinked a few times and looked around the room, eyes stopping on Steve as he watched you from the couch, eyes quickly flipping between yourself and the book in his hands in an effort to cover up his staring. 

The whole ordeal made you feel slightly off, but the realization that you were essentially mooching off a stranger felt worse. 

You hopped out of bed and anxiously paced towards the bathroom. “Shit, Steve,” you muttered. “I shouldn’t be taking advantage of you like this. I should probably leave.”

“Where else do you have to go?” Steve almost defensively questioned, frown deep on his face.

You took a deep sigh and shrugged, “I… don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”

“You don’t have to go,” he began, sounding unsure in his words, “stay. With me,” he stood up and walked over to you, grabbing the back of your arm softly. “You’re not taking advantage of me. If anything, you’re helping me. I get pretty lonely on these kinds of missions, so please, stay with me.”

You turned to look at Steve, the deep creases in his face at the thought of losing you. With just a glance, you knew that you couldn’t leave. 

——

The next few days of your life had proved your theory. It was almost alarming how quickly Steve became your anchor in the midst of a new, overwhelming world. 

The first thing that he did for you was tell you what your name was. As confused as you were to how exactly he figured it out, (he told you that he knew some weird tech guy. You were prepared to go with anything), you were grateful that Steve was able to help you out a piece of your old life back together.

He was oddly patient with you as you learned more and more about your surroundings. You were most impressed by the grocery store, and may or may not have spent hours inside of that food palace, spending much more of Steve’s money than was socially acceptable. 

For the next few months, you stayed at a safe house with Steve, spending the majority of your time looking down at your reflection in the lake in the backyard, wondering if your memories could ever come back.

You’d grown closer with Steve in that time as well, he was really the only person that you’d gotten close with since you’d lost your memories. Now that you were thinking about it, you hadn’t said more than three sentences to anyone else. By that measurement, your next closest friend was a gas station cashier.

In fact, you’d started dating Steve. Granted, you couldn’t completely wrap your mind around it all, despite the hours of rom-coms you’d watched while Steve was gone on missions. You just knew that you cared a lot about Steve. When he was around you, your heart fluttered. He was the only person you truly felt comfortable with. He protected you time after time, and voiced to you just how much he adored you. 

It made you feel wanted, to know that despite all of the confusion, you still had a place in this world, even if the place was just Steve Rogers’ heart. 

——

Steve arrived at the safe house late at night after nearly a week of being off on another mission. The bed creaked as he got into bed with you, and pressed up against your sleeping form. 

“Steve, sometimes I have these really awful dreams. Mostly when you’re not with me,” you began out of the blue as his arms snaked around you. “It’s always this faceless man just… abusing me. And I can’t even do anything about it because I’m too weak. And I can’t say anything because he stole my vocal cords. It sounds so silly, because it’s all just a dream, but it all feels so real. I just... I need you to promise me that you’ll protect me no matter what. Especially against him.”

“Of course,” he whispered against the back of your head, “I promise that I’ll protect you from him. He’ll never even get the chance to let the thought cross his mind.” 

“I love you, Steve,” you mumbled sleepily, “please never leave me again.”

He’d been waiting to hear those words.

——

Your fingers wrapped around a warm mug while Steve put the finishing touches on your breakfast. He’d decided to go all out that morning, with an impressive spread of food that would put most buffets to shame. For a moment, you questioned if you’d forgotten about some important holiday, or an anniversary.

Steve set a plate down in front of you, then pressed a soft peck to your forehead, “enjoy, sweetheart.”

You grinned softly down at the food, and at the affection, “what’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Just relieved to be back. I don’t like being away from you for too long,” he settled into the seat across from you, and took a sip of his own coffee.

“Mm, you sure? You’re not always this chipper post mission.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head just the slightest bit, “alright. You got me. I wanted to save it as a surprise, but I hate keeping secrets from you,” Steve paused.

“So… what’s the secret?” you pressed, bringing a forkful of food up to your mouth.

“I’m retiring.”

Your eyes widened as you heard the news, and you nearly choked, “are you really?”

Steve simply nodded, “I’m ready for the next chapter of my life with you.”

Your heart fluttered at the sweetness of his gesture, and the slightest hint of nerves. Why was Steve so willing to give up his entire livelihood for someone he knew for less than a year?

You felt bad for questioning his motives, considering that Steve had been nothing but good to you in the time that you knew him. If it wasn’t for him, you probably wouldn’t even be alive. He had proved himself to be an amazing, loving man, who had bent over backwards to keep you safe and comfortable. He trusted you, and it was time for you to do the same.

“I’ve been plotting this for a while, to be honest. You might think this is a little fast, but I even have a permanent place for us to stay.”

You couldn’t find it in you to be skeptical for much longer, your feelings of adoration for Steve overruling your hesitance to jump into something like that with him. 

You smiled softly as Steve spoke, getting up and pacing over to where he was seated so you could give him a hug, “I.. yes, that’s fast, but it’s also kinda amazing,” you sighed softly, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “When are we leaving?”

“Tonight, if that’s alright with you. I was thinking that we could spend the day packing up and… celebrating,” he winked down at you, and you looked up to shake your head fondly. 

“That sounds like a plan,” you gazed at him with adoration, and leaned up to press a soft peck to his lips that was lovingly reciprocated. 

——

Music pounded against your eardrums as you ground against a handsome stranger, one you couldn’t see, but instinctively knew. The smell of sweat, liquor, and sex filled your nose, the rancid combination oddly comforting in a retrospective moment. 

“We’re leaving!” A voice you hadn’t heard in what felt like years informed you. Your face broke into a wide grin when you heard her voice. “But it doesn’t look like you care!” she jeered. “Good luck!” your friend laughed, disappearing in the sea of people. 

“You’re coming home with me, right?” he asked, a hot breath against your cheek. 

You nodded. The words refused to come out. 

“Good,” he confirmed, pressing a kiss to your neck.

Out of the blue, you weren’t in the club, but in the small basement room from before, staring at nothing in particular while sat at the edge of your vanity’s seat.

“I’ve tried everything with you,” he commented, leaning against the doorway casually. You felt the need to apologize, to tell your captor that you didn’t mean to do what you did, that you loved him. Plead for him not to punish you. “After months of submission, I thought that we were finally getting somewhere. Why’d you have to throw it all away?” 

Glancing up at the vanity, a woman with sunken eyes, a pained expression, and fading bruises looked back at you, just long enough for you to briefly become that messy, drunken woman at the club once again. 

“I’ve tried everything with you. The easy way clearly didn’t work,” he continued, “you leave me with no other options, my love,” the man sighed, sitting down next to you casually. “I want you to know that I’m doing this for us. You know that nothing good ever comes easy, right?”

The syringe went into your arm like a hot knife through butter, and your muscles clenched as fire filled your body. You went to scream, but your throat was still out of commission. As you went down, your vision and thoughts began to blur before you couldn’t decipher one thing or another. The final noise you could make out was the distortedly slow rendition of It’s Been a Long, Long Time on the record player.

In an out-of-body moment, you watched as the man pulled your relaxed body down to the floor, cautiously pulling the clothes off of you and making you cringe internally at the sight of yourself in such a state. He left your body alone for a moment as he looked through the negligible amount of clothing in your closet, grabbing the same dress from the night at the club and pulling it on your limp figure.

It was torn and messy, not unlike the state it was in when you found yourself conscious. The faceless man muttered something unintelligible to himself before hoisting you up bridal style and taking your body out to the car. 

You watched in terror as this all played out, your slack face looking disturbingly at peace compared to how you’d appeared before. In fact, even in your ghastly state, you felt at peace. 

That peace quickly came to an end as you watched yourself get ditched on the side of the road, and as your body slowly began to twitch back to consciousness, your dream began to fade away.

——

You dragged your suitcase up through the garage, grateful to be at your final destination with the man you’d fallen in love with. You hoped that after moving in, the dreams might finally stop. After all, your dream in the car felt somewhat final. You were trying your best to be as positive as you could manage in such a strange situation, and from the outside, you had to admit that the house was gorgeous.

Stepping inside felt like the worst case of deja vu you’d ever experienced, as if your memories were repairing themself with every millisecond you were in the home, gazing at furniture you hadn’t seen in months, and smelling faint scents that you’d forgotten existed. Feature by feature, the puzzle pieces of the faceless man came together.

The longer you observed, the worse the feeling became. Waves of grief, fear, and pain were rolling over you again and again until you were completely drowning on it. The realization hit you with a ton of bricks: this was the house from your dreams.

Steve came up behind you, snapping you out of your panicked trance. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and squeezed you close to him.

“Ready for the first day of the rest of your life?”

[feverreaver]

Sometimes, I wish they had made Billy ugly, because if they did, then I think a lot more people would hate him.

Reread that. Reread how awful that sounds. Then reread it again.

He did one nice thing in his life, and it had to be dug out of his brain to do it.

One person showed him empathy in his life. That was enough for him to spend his final moments protecting her.

Just one person, digging past the veneer.

He wouldn’t have gotten better if he lived, especially after more trauma.

As someone who has been through the same, non-supernatural trauma as Billy, and could not get help/stop being a ‘bad survivor’ until I was in my mid-twenties, with modern information and resources, how fucking dare you.

That is beyond dehumanizing. That sends the incredibly shitty, awful message that people use to justify the death penalty, and the stigmatization of mental illness, every day.

Do you not realize how that comes across to people who hadn’t responded in a ‘socially acceptable’ way to their ongoing trauma?

I hate it when people say he went looking for Max, it meant that he cared. He had been FORCED into doing that. He had three hours to look for her and he didn’t give a fuck.

He was forced by his abusive father who carried the implicit threat of ‘or else—‘ in his arsenal. Billy had stated, plainly, she is old enough to look after herself.

That implicit threat of ‘or else—‘ will carry into later.

Max has given every indication she’d rather be off by herself. It was also the 80s; expectations were entirely different for supervision. Even in the 90s, when I grew up, I was often off on my own, and didn’t come home until it was dark out. This was normal.

There was no reason for Billy to be up Max’s ass until Neil, with his violence, and Susan, with her passive enabling of the violence, forced Billy to go looking.

He targeted Lucas because he’s black.

It is incredibly common for abuse survivors in active abusive situations to take on the beliefs of their abusers to try and protect themselves.

It doesn’t excuse it, but it adds context to it. And that context, provided with how Billy responds when exactly one person showed him empathy, leaves the impression that he can unlearn racism.

And yes, people can unlearn it.

Billy started the fight when he punched Steve in the stomach

He shoved him on the chest. Insert infamous ‘plant your feet’ line here. There’s a dirth of difference between the two. Steve likely wouldn’t have even fallen if he’d been paying attention to Billy, and not to the kids in the window. The shove looked half-assed at best.

The first punch was thrown by Steve— after Billy is already in a hyper state of volatile emotion having been threatened and physically assaulted by his father; having to flirt with Karen (and looking dead inside after the fact) to even get Max’s location; and now being lied to, to his face, by an older male teen who, once upon a time, had a reputation for sleeping around and treating women poorly.

Then Lucas rightly defended himself against Billy, and Billy, already on a hair trigger from everything else, gets spun around and sucker punched by Steve.

The fight isn’t nearly as one-sided as you’re making it.

HE WOULD’VE FUCKING KILLED STEVE AND HE WOULD’VE ENJOYED IT TOO

You really, really don’t know how hyper-vigilance or the gauntlet of emotions work in that state. Fight, and flight, are kicked up to 11.

That look on Billy’s face was not one of enjoyment, but anguish and rage fueled by that anguish.

Max was going through the same fucking things at the hands of Billy

Max has said it herself that Billy wasn’t like this prior to them moving to Hawkins.

This all screams to me that Billy is at his crashing point with his mental health.

It makes me sad because I think about people like Ted Bundy and his victims. All they could see was a pretty charming face too

Real classy, comparing an abused teenager with no support system, in an actively abusive situation, to a prolific serial killer.

I don’t have the time, nor the energy, to explain the difference between a hurt teenager lashing out, and the mentality behind a serial killer and what makes one.

I will say that I strongly identify with one, while the other I abhor, for reasons that should be obvious.

If they’re not, I suggest removing those black and white glasses of yours.

NOTHING about the character says he deserves to be loved

He’s an abused child. They all deserve love.

You’re not supposed to love them and act like they did nothing wrong

Learn the difference between contextualization and excusing.

Explains the why isn’t excusing the what.

There is NOTHING about Billy that is likeable. Take away his blah blah blah, and what’re you left with? NOTHING LIKEABLE

The ‘nothing likable’ is the point. It is the active, salient point.

A great deal of people who like Billy are abuse survivors who were also ‘not likable’ and ‘not worth saving’ and ‘sure you can sympathize with them a tiny bit, so long as you remember they’re unlovable.’

That mentality of yours played a huge hand in why it took me so long to actually get help. I ‘wasn’t worth saving.’

And to cut this off before I’m sure it rears it’s head— Billy’s, and Jonathan’s and Will’s situations are not comparable, nor should anyone be comparing any abuse survivor to another.

Jonathan and Will had active support systems in each other, and in their mom, and their abuser had left the picture.

Billy didn’t have a support system, and was with his abuser until his death.

Sometimes, I wish they had made Billy ugly because if they did, then I think a lot more people would hate him. I think it stresses me out because you take away all of his psychopathic violent behavior, and there's nothing left of his character to like. He did one nice thing his entire life, and it had to be dug out of his own brain to do it. He wouldn't have gotten better if he had lived, especially after experiencing more trauma.

I hate when people say that when he went looking for Max, it meant he cared. He had been FORCED into doing that. He had three hours to worry about her and he didn't give a fuck. He didn't care that Lucas might have been bothering her. He targeted Lucas because he's black. He even said it, people like him. Steve didn't start the fight, Billy did when he punched Steve in the stomach and trespassed into someone else's home, then SLAMMED A KID AGAINST A FUCKING WALL. . .SLAMMED HIM MORE THAN ONCE. Max was going through the same fucking thing at the hands of Billy and she was a child but do you see her pulling the same shit that Billy did: grabbing her arm tightly, breaking her skateboard, threatening to run down her friends. . .NO! MAX DRUGGED BILLY TO STOP HIM FROM KILLING STEVE! HE WOULD FUCKING KILLED STEVE AND HE WOULD HAVE FUCKING ENJOYED IT TOO. I hate the way you guys make up bullshit about Steve to try to make Billy look better. It was always Billy who started the fight. Steve was protecting Max, not Max. She felt safer with a bunch of strangers than she had with someone who was supposed to be her brother.

It makes me sad because I think about people like Ted Bundy and his victims. All they could see was a pretty charming face, too, and they wound up dead. Billy Hargrove was a character you were supposed to hate. That's how it was written, and it was written pretty well. That's how the actor played him, and I think he did a good job of it. Love the actor all you want, but there is NOTHING about the character that says he deserved to be loved. His parents who abused and abandoned him made sure of that. (Yeah, his mom was an absolute shitty person for not taking him with her.)

With a great antagonist, you're supposed to have a little bit of sympathy for them so you can see where they're coming from, but you're not supposed to forget that they're the antagonist. You're not supposed to blindly love them and act like they did they nothing wrong. I hope you guys don't learn the hard way about why that's a dangerous thing to do with real people like him. It's just scary how most of you can't see past his pretty face, and you can say it's not what you are doing all you want, but that's exactly what you're doing. There is just NOTHING about Billy Hargrove that's likable. You're all just distracted by his tight pants, his shiny car, and his pretty eyes. Take that all away, and what do you have left? NOTHING LIKEABLE.

[heavqn]

Can you please write something very sad? Like reader gets in a car accident, and Tom has to leave an interview when he hears the news, love your writing

ofc, and thank you:)

word count : 842

authors note : enjoy<3 sorry this took so long to come out.

It was supposed to be a normal day. He went to his interview, she went to her doctor appointment. Tom was only 20 minutes into his interview when Harrison came running from behind the camera to pull Tom away.

“What’s going on mate?” Tom asked. Harrison looked hesitant to speak. “Harrison?” “It’s [ y / n ]. She’s been in an accident.” He spoke slowly making sure Tom heard every word.

“I have to go. I sincerely apologize.” Tom told the interviewer before running out of the studio in which they were in and got into the car, Harrison following quickly behind him.

“Tom, calm down. I’m sure she's fine.” Harrison tried to ease his anxiety, and also his own as Tom drove recklessly to the hospital. “I can’t calm down. I love her Harrison. I can’t lose her.” Tom’s voice was shaky, and his knuckles were white from how tight he was gripping the steering wheel.

They arrived at the hospital in no time, and Tom barely stopped the car before getting out and rushing inside. The hospital was packed and he had to push through multiple people to get to the receptionists’ desk.

“Sir, please wait your turn.” The lady told him. “My fiancé, her name is [ y / n ], where is she?” He questioned. He was impatient as the receptionist looked up her name, and didn’t hear her when she spoke to him.

“Sir!” Her voice was a little louder and it caught his attention. “She’s in room 349, but you can-” Before she got to finish, Tom was off down the halls to find her. When he found room 349, she was asleep, or unconscious, he couldn’t be so sure.

He quietly pulled a chair up by her bed, and sat down. He couldn’t bear to look at her. She had tubes in her nose, and her face had cuts on it and bruises were already forming. Her hair was matted and tangled as well.

Tom decided to just hold her hand, not wanting to cause her any more pain than she was already in. The silence was uncomfortable, but Tom would’ve preferred it over the baby that started wailing.

Amongst the chaos he completely forgot that [ y / n ] was pregnant. She was 6 months pregnant, and they were having a little girl. His worries only increased more thinking about how both of his girls were hurt.

Thirty minutes later, a doctor and a nurse walked in. “Excuse me,” The doctor said. Tom looked up, and quickly stood up to shake his hand. “I’m Tom. I’m her fiancé.” The doctor's demeanor switched from confused to sympathetic.

“Dr. Omeda, and this is the nurse, Lanie.” Tom smiled at the nurse. “[ y / n ] is currently unconscious. She got into a car accident. She unfortunately fractured her ankle, and her ribs are bruised. It could’ve been worse though, and we're thankful that it wasn’t.” Tom was trying to hold himself together.

“There’s something else as well. Since she was pregnant, and the crash was very brutal, I’m sorry to say that the baby is gone.” That was it. He was grateful that [ y / n ] wasn’t physically as bad as she looked, but they lost the baby.

Tears started to freely fall from his eyes and the nurse and doctor excused themselves from the room. He sat back down in the chair, his face in his hands. He heard soft moans of pain, and looked up to see her.

“Hey, hey. Let me help.” He stood up and helped her adjust herself in the bed. “There you go.” He smiled at her, and she tried to return it but it was obvious that it hurt too much to try. She reached out for his hand, and held it.

She looked at their intertwined fingers, and started to cry. “No, no. Don’t cry. You’re fine.” He sat down on the empty space on the bed and very softly wiped her tears. “Yeah, I’m fine. She’s not though. I lost her, Tom. I killed our baby.” She was sobbing uncontrollably.

His heart broke at the mention of her, and at the fact that she thought she killed their baby. “No you didn’t. It’s not your fault. You didn’t know any of this was gonna happen.” He comforted her. “But I didn’t stop it either. I should’ve tried harder.” Her voice was coarse.

“None of that. You did all that you could, okay?” She shook her head no and he gave her a look. “You’re a wonderful person, and I know that you’d never intentionally kill our child. Okay? I love you. I’m grateful that you’re still here with me, and she's in a better place now.” He spoke calmly.

“I love you more.” She leaned in as much as she could to hug him. “Impossible.” He whispered into her ear. “Are we gonna be okay?” She asked. “Of course we will.” He told her. And they were gonna be okay. That’s a promise.

[chishiyas-mole]

Hi! If your requests are open, do you think you could write Niragi with a reader that enjoys the games as much as he does? Like, they're almost basically the same person, and everyone thinks they're dating, but no! They hate each other(not really, they act like they hate eachother, but in reality they like eachother. They're just hiding it). It takes a near death experience for them to confess their feelings. Sorry if that's a lot, and you don't have to do it if you don't want to! Have a great day/night❤

I see myself with you.

Hi! I’m finally back! Hope you’re not too angry at me but I have been loosing a ton of motivation back when I was starting. BUT NOW I’M BACK! ^-^/. Sine I’m reading a lot of books these days, I got some new ideas and I hope you like what I’ll produce in the following days/weeks.. I love you all <3

                     __________________________________________

"I will go instead.", I said, slowly closing the door behind me. "Arisu has plenty of time left, while I’m running out in a few days." I ran my fingers over the back of Arisu’s chair, before going to my usual spot in the back, leaning with a foot against the wall. The boy looked at me with surprise, as if he doesn’t already know I would’ve taken his spot. It’s clear that nobody wants to go to the difficult games, where it’s most likely to get killed. In this world, nobody enjoys the thrill. Except for the people in Aguni’s troop, including me. "Then I’ll jump in for Usagi. She doesn’t look like she wishes to join, anyway.", Niragi jumped to stand next to me, putting his arm around my shoulders. I flinched at his sudden appearance. "Come on, darling, we will have a wonderful time!", my heart jumped everytime he called me "Darling", I couldn’t really help it, he was charming in a way. "Yeah, whatever", I replied and immediately freed myself from his grip to punch his arm. 

I felt his gaze on me the whole way to the arena. And it drives me crazy. "Gosh. Can you for once focus on yourself, Niragi?", I turned around so quick, I was sure that I saw him squirm for a second. He had to take a step back to not crash into me and I smiled at how flustered he looked in that moment. Everyone was looking at us, giggling and whispering to each other. The wave of success vanished instantly, knowing exactly what they were talking about. 

Ever since I came to the beach, people were comparing me to Niragi because of my strength and desire to win the games. It’s not like I didn’t like it, he’s great and definitely an idol to me when it comes to the motivation he gives off. But when Niragi decided to protect me and follow me anywhere I go, people were assuming we’re.. a thing. And I don’t blame them, he always manages to make excuses to go to games with me so you could definitely think he was some kind of overprotective boyfriend, but he wasn’t my boyfriend. Don’t get me wrong, he’s really attractive and a very good friend to me. He’s helped me in every situation and I’m thankful for that but after some time, it’s annoying. Does he think I’m some kind of kid he has to take care of? I don’t need his help, I’m physically and mentally strong enough to survive on my own.

And if my thoughts weren’t already upsetting enough, there’s always that arrogant, little, white-haired boy that cannot keep anything to himself: "You two might just take a room, if you keep on flirting with each other like that.", he said while he passed by us, and suddenly I had the urge to kick his small ass. "Oh, shut the fuck up, Chishiya.", I blurted out. "Stop fighting,", Aguni interrupted, "we’re almost at the arena, save your energy."

"Stay on your knees and keep your hands up.", the innocent, small girl I saw in the entrance half an hour ago captured me, since it was her task to do that, but her hands were shaking. I could only laugh about that, even when I had a blindfold on, I felt her unease while she was holding the gun against my forehead. "W-why are you laughing?", she asked, totally clueless. Seems like it was one of her first games but she did a great job in taking me captive. Maybe I should’ve been more careful when I looked over the railing earlier. "Why don’t you just die in a world where you have to kill people to stay alive. Everyone could see that you’re scared right now, did you know that?.", I retorted. "Shut your damn mouth. I’m not scared.", she said before hearing something clicking, I assumed that she was unlocking her gun. Her voice was trembling now, she was close to crying. 

"The game ends in 2 minutes and 30 seconds." the robotic voice echoed through the whole arena and a few second later, five gunshots were fired in the rooms next to us. "I guess it’s your time to shoot me now.", I was so relaxed, even when I thought it wouldn’t end like this. But just right after I came to terms with my death, everything happened so fast. The door jumped open. Hearing some gunshots right next to me, I knew Niragi didn’t hesitate to kill the girl. 

"Are you alright?", he asked while freeing me from the ropes around my wrists. "You didn’t have to help me, I could’ve made it myself.", I knew that was a lie. I took off the blindfold, only to see him trying to remove the other restraints around my feet. "Niragi, I can do that myself. You’re not my babysitter.", I pushed away his hands to take care of the tight ropes. Damn, she knew how to kidnap someone.It didn’t take that long, so I got up with a long sigh. But Niragi suddenly clutched my arm. 

"Why don’t you ever let me help you?!", his voice changed so unexpectedly, I had to look up to him. I saw anger, fear but mostly sadness in his eyes. "You always say you can do everything by yourself. You never ask for help, even though I know exactly that you’re struggling." His grip around my arm got tighter every second. I was so confused, what’s up with him all of the sudden? "Niragi, I-", "I can only see myself with you, darling.", finally his grip loosened up and he gently puts his hand around my neck, softly stroking my cheek with his thumb. His touch left a hot trace, leaving me speechless. "I don’t protect you because I see some little child but because I see myself with you.", he whispered, with the most tender voice I’ve ever heard. My heart was beating so fast, I swear it would’ve jumped out at any moment now. What in the world is he doing with me? 

"See, I was like that myself, so helpless and no reason to live in this world. Before realizing I only needed someone who is by my side. And that someone is you.", his thumb is traveling to my lips, parting them before giving me a kiss.     I never knew he was thinking this way. He was always risking his life for me and I never thought about the fact that he might have feelings for me. Never have I considered taking care of myself for someone else in this cruel world but it makes so much more sense now. I wouldn’t be here anymore if it wasn’t because of him.

I returned the kiss and we were standing there, just us, feeling so relieved because I finally have a reason to live. 

He broke it after a few seconds to give me some time to process everything.

"Why didn’t you tell me earlier?", a tear strolled down my face, thinking about the harsh words I told and the cold side I showed him. "If I had known you were feeling that way, I could’ve understood you so much better and I wouldn’t have been such an asshole to you. Niragi, I’m so sor-", he didn’t let me finish my apology but I’m glad he still accepted it with another kiss. After staring into our eyes and telling each other sweet nothings for a while, Niragi decided to take me back to reality: "Maybe we should leave, the game is over soon and it’s not really romantic next to.. her.", Oh my, I completely forgot about the girl he shot earlier. A chuckle left my lips, which were oh so softly caressed by Niragi. I had to touch them to reassure that it really happened. 

Niragi and I left the arena hand in hand, clinging to each other. "Finally, why did it take so long for you to date?", Last Boss shouted from afar. "That’s so gross.", Chishiya immediately turned away. I could only give him a death glare. Okay, maybe I did understand him. Who wouldn’t cringe at seeing such a cute couple?

"Don’t listen to him, darling. But.. Maybe we should follow his advice from earlier and take some time off in a room? I quite liked you with those ropes and the blindfold."

[arhvste]

002 SAKUSA KIYOOMI X SHUT UP AND DRIVE SERIES

++ MSBY GARAGE

❝ get you where you wanna go, if you know what i mean, got a ride that’s smoother than a limousine ❞

dt — @omisluvr i hope you like this, i had a lot of fun writing about you and your husband <3

warnings — nsfw : oral [recieving]

“what the fuck were you even thinking when you said yes to him anyway?”

sakusa pinched the bridge of his nose as he stood in the doorway of his high rise apartment. you were looking up at him, eyes glossy and hair drenched. your skin soaked not just from the rain, but from the fresh, hot tears that had run down your face as your hands scrunched the hem of your soaking sweater, the material quickly growing uncomfortable to wear.

the outside hitter sighed before stepping out the way to let you in.

“stay there.” his deep voice rang through your ears as he left to grab you a fresh towel to use.

you stood there, glancing around the sleek apartment as the city lights from down below leaked softly through the windows emitting a soft glow around the room. moments later, you heard footsteps approach as your eyes flickered over to the hallway.

sakusa strode over to you, handsome features highlighted and sharpened under the dim lights. sticking his hand out, he dropped the plush white towel into your awaiting arms as a plastic bag. you looked up at him confused regarding the bag, but before you could ask, he cut straight in.

“strip.”

“excuse me?” you choked out as you stared at the man in disbelief.

“you’re excused.” he muttered bluntly as you wiped your face with the warm towel. “you’re all wet. strip here and go shower and then we’ll talk.” he finished as he turned to leave you standing, dripping wet on the doormat of the entrance.

sakusa walked down the hall towards the bathroom and began to run the hot water and ensure the vents were working for you. having him out of sight, you sniffled and began to peel the wet clothing off your body and toss it into the plastic bag you’d dropped onto the floor. after stripping bare, you wrapped the inviting towel around your cold body and padded towards the bathroom. sakusa had left the light on and had already heated the water for you to prevent any time wasted.

you dropped the plastic bag on top of the white wicker laundry basket and stepped into the wet room style shower. the cool tiles beneath your feet caused shivers to run through your body as you turned the tap on for hot water to flow out.

as a fresh wave of hot water flooded down you, so did a fresh set of hot tears. you did your best to hold back the sobs you’d been keeping in, but it was all too much now.

‘better get it out now before talking.’ you thought as you let the tears flow freely down your face.

luckily, sakusa kept an array of various shower products so you knew you wouldn't have to come out the shower smelling like a six foot plus man who’d had a shower at the gym. after knowing sakusa for so many years, you knew he was picky about his products and you were eternally grateful for his favoured and toned-down scent of ‘ocean waves’.

lathering the soap across every inch of your now warming skin, your sobs slowed down and your breathing less jagged. your chest still hurt, but whether that was your crying causing chest ache or your now-ex causing heart break, you didn’t care anymore. you saw the end of your already deteriorating relationship approaching from a mile away anyway. if anything, you were partially thankful it had come crashing down, ending the anticipation that kept you on edge everyday. you just didn’t think it would actually hurt.

rinsing the soap off and feeling a bit better, you stepped away from the shower head as the water came to a halt. grabbing the fresh towel sakusa had left waiting for you on the radiator, you dried yourself as much as you could before wrapping the towel tightly around your body and stepping out the steaming room.

wandering through the dim hallway, you peeped into sakusa’s room as he scrolled through his phone, slouched on the king sized bed adorned with a firm, but certainly luxury mattress.

you knocked gently as his eyes snapped up at you. his expression still agitated looked, but softening at the sight of you.

“i don't have any spare clothes.” you murmured quietly, stepping into his clean and immaculately kept room.

he hummed before getting off the bed and rummaging through his own drawers. you stood there glancing around all of his medals and trophies won from years of playing in highschool and now pro. you had been present when he had won multiple of these awards. you happened to be one of the lucky few allowed close to sakusa. yes, you had known each other from a young age, but sakusa was ruthless in the sense of cutting people off; you had been someone exempt from that treatment though.

after a few moments, sakusa grunted with a pair of sweats in his hand as he looked down at your damp form.

you were taken aback slightly because despite sakusa slowly becoming more comfortable with personal boundaries, particularly in the recent years, you still grew slightly shocked everytime he willingly loaned you something of his own.

“thanks.” you whispered as you took the dry clothes and headed over to his en suite bathroom.

locking the door behind you, you quickly threw the sweats on and inhaled the natural scent that had rubbed off onto the clothes. sakusa smelt expensive in your opinion. yes, it was his natural scent, but anyone could tell he was a man of serious selfcare just from the scent of his clothes alone.

satisfied with your dry attire, you hung the towel on the radiator before switching off the light and stepping back into sakusa’s bedroom.

the sweats were definitely too big for you, but he had done his best to find one of his older sets in hopes of them perhaps fitting you a little more and for the sake of his own comfort knowing you weren’t wearing any clothes he’d regularly wear and fear catching too many external germs onto. you smiled weakly at him upon catching eye contact as he sighed and patted beside him on the bed.

staying close friends with the germaphobe had definitely benefited you as you had only grown closer to the pro-volleyballer over the years, allowing the two of you to naturally grow physically closer too. there’s not a lot of people in the world sakusa would’ve allowed for them to shower, wear his clothes and especially not sit on his bed, but once again, you were exempt from that, you always were; and he knew why.

“so,” he began, cutting through the thick tension lingering. “what happened exactly.”

always so straight to the point. maybe running to sakusa immediately wasn't the best choice.

“he cheated.” you spoke dryly as sakusa’s frown grew deeper.

“explain.” he pressed as you felt your chest increasingly tighten.

“i showed up to his house and-” your eyes watered as tears began to spill out. opening your mouth to continue, you struggled as no noise came out. scrunching your eyes up in frustration, you sobbed once more but stopped as you felt a warm hand take in your own.

you looked up through blurred vision as sakusa had a firm, but sincere look on his face. tightening his grip slightly on your hand, you shakily breathed out before continuing.

“the door was unlocked, i went in and i saw.”

“saw what?”

“her. the girl he told me not to worry about. the one he promised me was nothing more than a friend.”

sakusa scoffed as you sighed warily, tears dripping down your chin.

“they were um- you know-”

“-having sex. yes, i get the idea.” sakusa quipped as your heart dropped.

“um, yeah. i just left and well, here i am.” you laughed bitterly, face wet once more and vision blurred.

“what a fucking loser.” sakusa spat out bitterly as you hung your head low.

“i don't even know why you said yes to him. what the hell does he even have going for him? tell me what exactly it is that he brings to the table, i’ve been dying to know.”

you looked up as sakusa’s hand held yours tightly.

sakusa looked almost as hurt as you did. you quickly put that idea to bed and assumed it was natural protectiveness. he was your best friend after all. you just didn’t know just how badly he had wanted more than that though.

“he was just- he was just there i guess. someone for me to date. maybe i was just lonely, i don’t know. i, fuck- i dont know omi! i dont fucking know anymore!” you sobbed as sakusa’s eyes softened.

“well. what are you gonna do now?” he spoke sharply, eyes fixated on you.

“nothing i guess. i’ll get over it, i knew it was bound to end anyway.”

“and running to me was your first option?”

“are you really that surprised? i just didn’t know who else to go to.”

sakusa sighed before standing up and urging you to stand up with him.

“where are we going?” you asked, begrudgingly standing up beside his toned form.

“to take you out. i’m not having you soak my sheets with tears caused by a loser.”

“but i’m not dressed for that!” “we’re staying in the car for the most part.” he confirmed, notioning for you to follow him back to the front door where his car keys were left.

you sighed but followed suit as sakusa grabbed one of his own sweaters to put on. looking back at you, sakusa noticed your down expression as his own heart tugged slightly. he could only hope you’d perk up by the time he’d taken you to where he intended. he almost felt bad. almost.

you huffed but followed sakusa out the apartment behind him and waited as he locked the door swiftly behind him. trailing sadly behind him towards the elevator, sakusa watched as your miserable state wallowed in sadness behind him.

waiting for you to get over the damage caused seemed pointless in his opinion. ever the efficient one, sakusa knew exactly how he wanted to go about getting you over your ex faster. he could only hope you’d cooperate with him.

the ride in the elevator with the occasional sniffle from you occupying the majority of the silence. at last, the elevator had reached below ground level and into the underground parking lot for residents to use.

you followed the man out the elevator and stayed close to him and the two of you headed over to sakusa’s reserved parking space. you heart picked up slightly upon locking your eyes onto sakusa’s car.

a matte black aston martin DB11 was parked perfectly into its designated space. the tinted windows showed you back your own reflection as you were met with the sight of your downcast face. brushing stray strands of hair out of your face, you sighed and waited for sakusa to unlock the car for you to get in.

to you, getting into the pro players car was no big deal, you were simply getting into a friends car for a casual outing. to anyone else, this would’ve been a huge deal though. nobody was allowed in sakusa kiyoomi’s car. he denied requests to drop off and pick up others and even teammates. the only exceptions from this rule were yourself and komori. nobody else.

sakusa unlocked the car and you clicked the door open on the passenger side. immediately, your nose was met with the heavy scent of air freshener and leather. the clean and polished interior never failed to impress you every time you rode with sakusa.

the outside hitter climbed into his own seat before shutting his door and waiting for you to shut your own. the leather of the seat cool under your sweats. shivers ran up your spin and the cold temperature car started up at the press of a button.

“strap in.” sakusa glanced over at you before fastening his own seatbelt and looking into the mirror to back the car up safely.

“hold still for a sec.” sakusa muttered as you felt his hand land on your shoulder as he looked back. his body close to yours, sakusa swiftly swung the car out his space as your breath hitched. why the hell did he have to get so close?

“you could’ve held the back of my seat.” you looked over at him as he revved the engine ready to speed out the exit.

“yeah you’re right, i could’ve. i just didn’t want to.” and with that, sakusa hit the acceleration and the car sped out the clear exit at high speed.

your head was thrown back and your heart fluttered at his words but you kept quiet as you tried to calm your nerves. sakusa however, looked like he was out to kill. you were just thankful the roads were clear in the late night.

his jaw tense and eyes sharp, sakusa made no mistakes as he swerved in and out of lanes so cleanly, leaving other drivers with no reason to complain.

“where are we even going?” you spoke up meekly as the man beside you pulled up at a red light. clicking his tongue in annoyance of the hold up, sakusa tilted his head to face you, his wavy mop of hair flopping back as his salient eyes met your own, throwing your heart off course.

“you’ll see.” was all he said as the light flashed amber. head snapping back to the front, sakusa revved his engine once more, hands both tightly gripped the finely stitched leather of the wheel. prominent veins running down the back of his hand, sakusa flexed his fingers before gripping the wheel once more and slamming back down on the accelerator throwing your head back into the headrest for the second time of the night.

if looks could kill, you were certain any driver in your best friends field of vision would’ve been dead at least two times over. you had no idea why he was so angry, but you’d be lying if you said you didn't find him at least slightly attractive. you just couldn't bring yourself to fully admit it though. you were fresh out of an awful break up and the heartache was still there even if sakusa was capable of effortlessly throwing you into a fit of excitement.  

you gazed out the window as the car sped along the highway as pulled off the main roads and into the more separated streets. you paid no attention to where it was you were going until a wave of familiarity washed over you. your stomach tightened and your eyes flashed in fear as you quickly turned to see sakusa as focused as before, pulling into a parking space resided along the street of houses next to it.

“what the fuck kiyoomi! why are we here”

“where else would i take you?”

“oh i don't know, 7-11 maybe?!” you huffed as sakusa scrunched his face in disgust.

“that’s not going to help you get over him. this will.”

sakusa nodded towards the houses outside. more specifically, your ex's house.

“i can’t do this, i don’t need this.”

“you can and you want to don’t you?

you stared at him in disbelief as you shook your head.

“not like this, not now.”

“look at me.” sakusa demanded as his hand reached up to cup the side of your face, pulling your gaze directly onto his face.

“he’s a fucking loser. you’ve cried over him enough already and i just can’t sympathise with you anymore, show him that he fucked up.”

you opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. once again, shaking your head, you pulled away from sakusa’s grip as he stared at you confused.

“how? how can i just confront him in this state? you don't understand omi! it still hurts, and i can’t just-”

“-it hurt me too. this whole time it hurt.” sakusa cut in swiftly.

“ever since you said yes to him, i couldn’t understand why it hurt until recently. maybe i should’ve been happy for you. i just couldn’t though. i don’t like him, i never did and you know what? he didn’t deserve you, but i think i do.” he confessed, expression sincere and voice clear and sharp.

“kiyoomi i-”

“-don’t answer me now. it’s not fair of me to just throw something like that at you, i’m sorry but i’m also really not. i’ve been waiting to say this. just please, don’t let yourself fall off over someone like him okay?” he turned away, one hand still firmly gripping the wheel as his other hand reached to start the engine again to drive you both back. your hand intercepted though, stopping him from starting the ignition.  

“you’re right, i’m sorry. i promise i won’t so, let me prove it to you.” sakusa turned to face you and raised an eyebrow at your sudden change of attitude.

“i don’t want to cry anymore. not over him, not when i knew it was approaching sooner or later.” you admitted looking up at him. eyes glinting under the dim lights the streetlights provided through the tinted windows.

“then don’t let him make you cry anymore.” sakusa breathed out, voice taking on a soft tone.

“i’m relying on you to keep me in check then.” you whispered slowly leaning into him and letting him meet you halfway.

“well, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.” his final words muttered out as his slender fingers ran under your jawline as he tilted his head up to meet his own. eyes fluttering shut, sakusa mentally thanked whoever the fuck was looking out for him, because he’d been waiting for this moment for longer than he’d ever care to admit.

pressing his lips onto your own, sakusa’s heart ran laps as you gasped at the feeling his hands gripping your jaw tighter. humming in satisfaction, he deepened the quickly escalating kiss as he pulled you closer and closer to him. god, he just couldn't have you close enough to him.

sliding his hand down to your thighs, sakusa felt the way you had them tightly pressed together as the slow and languid kiss quickly heated with each whine he drew from your lips. growing greedy to hear more, sakusa dominated the kiss completely, teeth scraping along your bottom lip ever so gently, drawing a sharp gasp from your throat. with your lips slightly parted, sakusa slipped his tongue into your mouth groaning at your responsiveness to his actions.

pulling away, he left you gasping but gave you no time to catch your breath as his lips strayed from your own and you felt his hot breath teasing the warm skin of your neck. not wasting another moment, sakusa let his canines dance along your sensitive skin, teasing you and leaving you unaware of his every next move. finally, letting his teeth drag along your collarbone for so long, sakusa kissed, sucked and bit everywhere he had access too. he needed to mark you as his. it would give him enough mental confirmation that you were finally his and you seemed to have no obligation to this in the slightest.

“omi, i can’t-” you whined, frustration building up as the clothes you were wearing now became more and more of a bother.

“i got you princex.” sakusa grunted, shifting his body away ever so slightly.

“please!” you groaned, glaring at the now smirking man.

“whatever happened to ‘i can’t do this’?” he mocked relishing in the control he had over you.

“i didn’t think you meant this!” you whined as sakusa pulled himself off of you momentarily. looking down at your hot and bothered state he felt a wave of pride hit. he did that to you.

“backseat.” he demanded notioning behind him.

“what?” you breathed out.

“you heard. backseat.” you grumbled but obliged regardless, climbing into the backseats of the luxury car. sakusa followed suit and hovered over your aching body as you rested your head against the doors tinted window, waiting for sakusa to do something, anything.

“so obedient.” he sighed trailing his fingers along the waistband of the already loose sweats, hands slowly slipping under the material, tugging them off painfully slow, much to your impatience.

your breathing stuttered as the man pressed a soft trail of kisses along your now exposed thighs, the temperature of the car only increasing as the air got thicker and thicker.

“please.” you whispered as his kisses met the ache between your legs.

eyes lustfully looking up at you, sakusa smiled against the skin of your inner thigh, breath hitting dangerously close to where you needed his attention the most.

“since you asked so nicely.” he praised, fingers hooking under the thin waistband of your soaked through panties. pulling them down, his eyes flickered up to meet your own. a look of sincerity glinted in his eyes as you nodded at him, permitting him to grant what you both wanted, what you both needed. you wanted this as much as he did and he’d be a fool to pass up an opportunity like this. the opportunity to show you what you could’ve had from the start, none of that mattered now though. you could his now, he’d make up for all the time lost, starting with now.

gasping at the sudden feeling of his tongue dipping into your slit, sakusa’s confidence only built up knowing you were comfortable with this. the warmth of his tongue causing you squeeze your eyes shut as shivers ran up and down your spine. fully trusting himself now, sakusa worked his mouth on your clit, hungrily chasing the desperate pleads ands gasps he’d quickly grown attached to. he needed to draw more of these out of you and he’d do just that.

toying with your clit with his tongue, sakusa groaned at the feeling of your hands quickly grabbing the base of his hair, tugging him closer and closer in desperate attempts to get him to go deeper. he made it his aim to get you just as hooked onto the feeling of intimacy as he was and you seemed to be following suit perfectly.

“k-kiyoomi!” you gasped, tugging harder at the dark strands tightly gripped between your fingers. his eyes flashed up at you, an almost unreadable expression shown as he pulled away momentarily. “you’re so beautiful you know,” he sighed before moving his mouth back down to your twitching core “so fucking beautiful.” he praised as he glanced up to memorize each pleasured expression that twisted across your face. he felt so proud knowing he was the one doing this to you, only he could make your eyes roll back the way he did, only he could draw out those pretty sounds that escaped your lips. he knew he was the only one capable because he knew he was always the better choice for you, he was better than your ex in every single way and he was just relieved he was finally getting the chance to prove it to yourself.

completely encasing your core between his lips once more, he swallowed everything you gave him so selfishly, refusing to let anything go to waste and spill onto the seats, it’s not like he could let anything go to waste anyway, not when you tasted this fucking good and certainly not when you were in his clean car.

“o-omi, more!” you chanted as sakusa grunted as you felt the knot inside of you progressively tighten. firm fingers gripping your hips, sakusa curled his tongue inside of you making sure to lap up everything he got out of you. you whined and chanted sakusa’s name like a mantra as he continued to worship your body with his mouth.

“please, please, please!” you recited desperately over and over again as you felt yourself closer to the edge.

“so good for me.” sakusa praised pulling away and loosening his grip on you, your arousal coating his chin. keeping one hand firmly gripped onto your waist, he moved his other hand down for his fingers to pinch and toy with the bud as his tongue quickly dipped back into your tight pussy as you felt your high quickly chase up on you.

“f-fuck!” you cried out as you felt your back arch as the ecstasy crashed down on you. his actions didn’t stop though, as his thumb continued to circle your clit with slow but firm movements only further forcing your mind to go blank. mindless babbles dribbled out your mouth as you slowly came down from your peak, sakusa continued to let every drop of arousal spill into his mouth before he pulled away panting.

face flushed, but satisfied, he caught his own breath and waited for you to fully come back to your senses. your own breathing once again jagged, you looked up at him shyly as you leaned forward to rest your head against his.

“s-shit, i didn’t think it would go this far.” sakusa admitted, grabbing a tissue from the side compartment to wipe his face. a look of disgust flashed momentarily on his face when he saw the mess on the tissue, but silently praising himself for keeping his car free from any spills onto the plush leather seats.

you laughed breathily before fluttering your eyes shut.

“i knew coming to see you was a good idea.”

“you didn’t know this was going to happen, fuck, i didn’t even know this was going to happen. i only brought you here to confront him.” the dark haired male sighed before pulling away from you.

the two of you stayed like that for a few moments, a comfortable silence lingering in the compressed air of the car. you hadn’t verbally confirmed it yet, but sakusa knew from this moment onwards you were finally his. a blissful feeling bubbled up inside of him as he processed what had just happened.

suddenly, a loud tap on the window caused the two of you to jolt in shock as you instinctively gripped the hem of the disregarded sweats in attempts to cover your exposed body. leaning over to the front drivers seat, sakusa peered at the window and was met with the furious face of your ex. scoffing, he slid into the driver's seat and let the window roll down to come face to face with the man you called your boyfriend several hours prior to what had just happened.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you ex spat in anger as sakusa glared back equally as bitter.

“enjoying myself.” sakusa boredly stated as your ex’s face twisted into an expression of horror upon noticing you climbing back over to the front passenger seat with your clothes now back on, but appearance definitely disheveled.

“with that bitch?” the man outside of the car hissed as sakusa blocked his view.

“first of all, that so-called bitch? mine now, should’ve been from the start actually and secondly, get your disgusting presence away from my car, i’ve already had it deep cleaned this week and thanks to you, it’s gonna have to go back to be cleaned thoroughly again.”

your ex scoffed before backing up slightly.

“whatever, get the fuck out of my parking space though, and you,” he started past sakusa and directly into your eyes. “this makes you just as bad as me now so get off your high-horse.”

“actually,” you spoke up, hand resting on sakusa’s forearm to calm his peaking rage. “it doesn’t. kiyoomi was just a friend throughout the entirety of our relationship, he should’ve been the one to have been more than that though. it was never you.” you spoke briskly and cooly as sakusa smirked beside you.

before your ex could even open his mouth, sakusa let the windows slam but up before pressing the ignition.

“let’s just get out of here, you’re tired and it’s been a long day for you.” he offered a small smile as you nodded. outside, your ex was still yelling and begging for answers as the two of you took no notice. firing the engine back up, sakusa didn’t bother looking back before slamming onto the acceleration and speeding the two of you back through the streets and onto the main highway to take you back to his apartment where the two of you had things to talk about.

there was a lot lingering in the both of your minds, but you were certain the two of you were finally on the same page.

sakusa was upset you were hurt, but it didn’t matter now. you were his and over time, he’d help build you back up again, hand in hand, he wanted to put the time and effort into you that he had been wanting to do from the very start.

there weren’t a lot of people sakusa kiyoomi allowed close to him, would go out of his way for, would even care about for that matter, but as always, each and every time, you were exempt from that.

++ TAGLIST! @crescenttooru @miss-angel-ash @sarahvvictoria @babierin @omisluvr @s0utien @toobsessedsstuff @omibaby @kenkodzu @sugabeaniee @lovesunas @slutawara @bunny-on-crack @shouyouorange @memorableminds @whootwhoot @yikes-buddy @sweetsamus

[psychadelickate]

House MD - House: ... or Not

Title: ...or Not Word Count:  1 278 Fandom: House MD Pairing: House x Reader Rating: Teen Gif: Not Mine Requested: Anonymous Prompt: Reader telling House she can’t do this anymore A/N: this was written in a span of 45 minutes, so I apologise in advance if it’s not good. Hope you enjoy reading anyway

It’s almost midnight when you finally get home. You take off your boots and coat and hang it in the mudroom before entering your home. The plush carpet feels like heaven on your feet after a day in three-inched stiletto heeled boots. You frown slightly when you hear soft music playing through the speakers in your home. You don’t remember leaving them on when you left for work that morning. Walking deeper into your home, you’re surprised when you stumble upon one Dr Gregory House fast asleep on the couch in your living room. This gives you pause. There’s no reason this man should be in your home, and yet here he is. Cameron had texted you earlier that evening asking you if you knew where House was since he hadn’t joined the team for dinner, and you’d admitted you had no idea. You’d made previous plans and you couldn’t cancel last minute. Honestly, you could have, but you had no intention of leading Dennis on any further. You knew this wasn’t going to work and you had no desire to pursue it any further and so you’d gone to dinner with Dennis to let him know you wouldn’t be seeing him anymore. Turned out, Dennis had plans to break-up with you as well. His reasoning though, was that he thought you and House have some unresolved feelings for each other. He didn’t want to fight for your attention knowing he was going to lose…

You have half a mind to wake him up and tell him to go home, but you don’t. Instead, you decide to let him know your spare room is available, because sleeping on your couch is going to be murder on his leg.

 His eyes open before your hand makes contact with his shoulder and his gaze pins yours. It takes a little effort, but he pulls himself to a seated position before talking. “How was your date?” he asks. “House,” if he picks up on your exasperated tone, he doesn’t verbally acknowledge it. “Too clingy? Too boring? Not manly enough for you?” House asks and it only annoys your further, but you really don’t have the energy to get into it with this man right now. “It was fine,” you reply hoping that will appease him.

It doesn’t. “If it was fine, why did you come home alone? It’s way past the third date already. A little bird – named Cameron - said you’re seeing this guy for three months already and you still haven’t sealed the deal.” “Cameron needs to mind her own business,” you snap. “(Y/N),” he uses that tone and just like that, the conversation changes from joking and flirting to serious. You hate when he says your name like that, because there’s no way you’d deny him anything he’d ask of you. Needing a bit of physical distance from him, you start walking toward your bedroom. Sensing this, House is quicker on his feet than you’d expected him to be and he follows your footsteps. He, however, stops at your door, not entering your personal space, instead, just leaning against the doorframe. Your heart skips at beat at the sight before you and you hope he can’t see the blush creeping up your neck and cheeks. “You didn’t answer my question.” “I didn’t hear a question,” you reply. “When’s the next date?” House asks you, though you don’t answer this question either. Not because you don’t want to tell him, but because there’s not going to be another date. You’re done trying, sure the timing is right, but there’s just no chemistry with the two of you. You’d been more excited to watch paint dry than go another date with him. “House, it’s late and I’m tired. The guest room is made up if you want to use it, or you can leave. It’s up to you. But this conversation is over,” you inform him as you turn down the sheets on your bed. He doesn’t move from his leaning stance against the doorframe, examining you. A minute passes… Then two… And just when you think it’s over, he steps into your bedroom. Just one step, but it’s monumental for the both of you. Yes, House has been in your home before, but never as far as your bedroom. There’d been no reason for his presence in it. “There isn’t going to be another date, is there?” he asks you. Your gaze snaps up to meet his. He doesn’t need you to vocalise your answer, you’re pretty sure he can see it written on your expression. House takes another step closer to you. “What was his excuse? You’re too good for him? He insecure about your job? The fact that you earn more than him?” Does he really want to have this conversation right now? “House, let it go. It’s over. Doesn’t matter what the reasoning was,” you tell him, but the man is nothing if not persistent. “Of course, it matters! Why wouldn’t it?” he’s incredulous at your response. “Come on (Y/N).” “Fine if you really want to know, we ended it because he thought you and I have unresolved feelings for each other!” You wait for House to dismiss the statement or at least have a sarcastic reply to it, but he remains silent, gaze still pinned on yours. It only lasts a minute and then he gets his bearings back and you know he’s going to deflect. “I don’t know what gave him that idea. We work together and that’s it. It’s just dinner on a Friday night, with the rest of my team!” And that finally triggers your anger. “Yes, because having dinner out once a week is a standard between friends, even though we’re still there long after everyone else have gone home. You crashing my dates doesn’t mean anything to you, it’s just a thing you do to pass time and entertain yourself. Scaring away potential people who are interested in dating me is a service you provide – free of charge!” your voice is rising with every word as you step closer to him. “You don’t want me, House and yet you don’t want anyone else to have me,” you poke a finger into his chest as soon as he’s within touching distance. This is new for both of you. You’d never been tactile with him, not sure how he would react to your touch, but you can’t help yourself at this moment. “You need to decide House, because this,” you wave a finger in the air “needs to stop. Now, I think you should go home.” You turn to leave but House catches your wrist, his long fingers banding gently around it, and pulls you to him. It’s not the best of movements, but he stands steady as you bump into him, coming chest to chest with the man. “Yeah, because I really would’ve wasted my time going on dinner dates with you if I didn’t find you interesting or if I didn’t like you. And I wasn’t scaring away potential dates, I was checking if they were worthy enough. Though the one thing I will admit to is I did like crashing your dates, seeing their shock and dismay at the fact that you aren’t available…” he continues. “Just what do you mean by – ?” your sentence is cut short when you feel House’s mouth fuse to yours, his lips gliding over yours, kissing you with all he’s got, stealing your breath. “This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for not ‘officially’ asking me out,” you say but he could care less and pulls you in for another heated kiss.

if you’d like to be tagged, let me know tag list: @kyky9103​ @diaryofafan17​ @wefracturedmotivation​ @yeetmetohim @manicmarsupial​ @cameronmonaghantrashaf​ @kettnerjanea​ @graycrackle @andreasworlsboring101​ Masterlist here  Scroll down for House

[stressedoutcanary]

Family Matters - Batfamily x Reader

Summary: A surprise birthday party and Batfamily being chaotic.

“That's it Dick just a little to the right...No the other right...No! Not there you goofus! Just...Just get down from the chandelier before it comes crashing down on the rest of us and For God's Sake let Duke handle the ribbons before you somehow strangle yourself with them”

Warnings ⚠️: Fluff, lots of it, angst because I can’t help myself, Reader has got some parental issues. Hurt/Comfort.

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: I wanted some good dad Bruce content so I did it myself. Also I might have been influenced by a post I made a while back about Bruce and his children. I haven't used reader's pronouns anywhere so it's kinda gender neutral.

I don’t know where I was going with this, my imagines are often like a train derailed from its track but I think it’s fine. So Enjoy ;)  

•°•°•°•°

"Focus (Y/S/N), don't jump in in blind, assessing what action your opponent is about to undertake and countering it out before they can complete that action, this is the key lesson for you today", Batman's commanding voice echoed in the enclosed area of the batcave as he observed you attempting to roundhouse kick the boy in front of you. It was rather rashly executed with the hope of knocking him down which, for obvious reasons, only ended up with your leg connecting with nothing but thin air.

'Damn he is fast when he actually tries.'

"Easy for you to say Old Man! You aren't the one dancing with Mister Duckboy, the teen wonder over here!", you exclaimed, panting as your chest heaved from the exertion.

"Duckboy?!", Tim looked near scandalized as you grinned in return, stealing a glance towards the giggling crowd gathered near the stairs.

Everyone was already in the cave, it was a rare occurrence, it happened only when the issues of upmost importance were being discussed. Today was one of those days; The planning of Alfred Pennyworth's surprise birthday party.

However things usually went a lot less violent, this day every year. The sparring session this year was the result of you messing up, real bad while on patrol last night and since you were around the same age as Tim, he was found to be the most appropriate partner for it. The only drawback was that he had a staff in his hands while your weapons were confiscated, because in Bruce's words 'you rely on them too much'. You were already tired and Tim had a huge advantage over you, if you wanted to win this match you had to be quick and efficient at the same time.

Distracting Tim by your comment allowed you to have an opening, gathering all your strength you went in for a forward strike. Unfortunately he was more than ready to take you on, he crouched down, narrowly missing your punch then proceeded to swipe your legs off of the ground with his bo staff making you fall butt first on the floor.

"Congratulations you've managed to hurt both my ass and my ego, Timbers", You said laying back on the ground, hands and legs spread out and instead of helping you up, Tim joined you on the floor sitting next to you. You gave him a look that was equivalent to 'next time I get the chance, I am going to push you off a roof'.

"Your skills need improvement", Bruce said in his monotonous tone as you grunted knowing that a full ass lecture was gonna follow, but before he could get another word out, Jason chimed in with a statement no one ever expected to hear from him,"You know (Y/N), he's not wrong in fact I think the old man's actually got a point."

Jaws dropped to floor, Tim looked like he just saw a ghost, Dick who was standing near Barbara pinched himself to see whether he was dreaming or not, Damian snapped his neck up from where he was sharpening his katana, even Titus and Ace perked their heads up at the sudden silence that settled over the place. Barbara, Cass, Duke and Steph looked equally shocked.

"Before you all get any ideas, what I'm trying to say is you better pay attention because B over here won't be able to save your ass, 'cause if you slack off the next thing you know you would be in a warehouse with a maniac, getting blown to bits", Jason looked at Bruce with accusing eyes.

'And here I thought he was finally going to say something sensible', you thought to yourself as he continued,

"Take it from someone who has had that experience, you guys remember right? The fact that I--"

"Died, we know!!", everyone groaned at the same time and Bruce looked like he had to physically restrain himself from faceplaming.

"Okay! Guys how about we go ahead and do the thing we all actually came here to do instead of... whatever this conversation was", you suggested, getting up and patting the dust off your clothes.

"Well then someone has got to ask the important question here", Barbara looked around as she worded her sentence,"who is going to be the one to keep Alfred busy while we get everything ready?"

Once again the cave went silent. For a whole bunch of detectives, you all were very, very scared of Alfred, including Bruce even though he will never admit it, lying to The old-butler-cum-grandpa and making random excuses for the whole 3 hours was a thought dreadful enough to make all of you exchange petrified glances at each other hoping someone would step forward to do the job.

"I'll do it", dick raised his hand.

"NO!", everyone snapped and Dick's head tilted with a pout.

"You are good at doing a lot of stuff boy wonder, hiding things from Alfred isn't one of them", Barbara comforted Dick as Damian stepped up next.

"*tt* Since none of you imbeciles have the courage or the ability to do it. I shall be the one to handle Pennyworth. Gordon, Cain and Titus, I will require your assistance", Damian spoke or rather commanded as he went up the stairs, followed by the group he chose.

"Don't mess this up for us, you gremlin!"

"Tim!", you lightly jabbed him in the side with your elbow.

"Ow! What?"

"Be nice", you narrowed your eyes and he understood you were being serious.

"Fine I'll try, but don't blame me if he starts something", Tim shrugged carelessly. You shook your head and let out an audible sigh as you followed everyone else up towards the manor.

•°•°

"That's it Dick just a little to the right...No the other right...No! Not there you goofus! Just...Just get down from the chandelier before it comes crashing down on the rest of us and For God's Sake let Duke handle the ribbons before you somehow strangle yourself with them", you eyed him worriedly.

"Oh come (Y/N) it'll be fine!", the cheerfulness in his voice made you cock an eyebrow at him from below. Duke slid in beside you.

"10 bucks says he will somehow fall within the next hour"

"Oh Duke you should know better, 20 says he'll fall within 30 minutes", you turned towards him with an evil smile.

"What are you both talking about down there?"

"NOTHING!", you both said in unison on which Dick gave you a confused look.

"Oh Hey look Steph needs my help with the cake so, see ya!", you quickly moved to the other side of the room checking in with Stephanie and Tim. She gave you a thumbs up to signal that everything was going according to plan and the place was almost ready. Everyone was laughing, bickering, having fun, it was all very rare and seeing it, a warm feeling spread throughout you.

You smiled to yourself for a moment but it faltered and a frown pulled up at your lips, a sorrowful thought crossed your mind, something you always kept buried deep down. Looking around and seeing as nobody needed your help at the moment you decided to slip out of the chaos, taking slow steps towards the patio to clear your head.

•°•°

Leaning against the railing you thought back to how you left your house this morning telling your mother that you are going to stay at your friend's place for a while and how she just waved her hand at that, not even questioning you anymore. Your mind was completely elsewhere, despite the awe-inspiring dense forest right in front of you, your eyes were lost in space.

You registered, a bit too late, the presence of someone standing beside you.

"It is a nice view, but something tells me that's not what brought to out here, away from everyone else"

"Careful there Brucie or people might think that you are actually capable of some emotions which happen include caring for people", you retorted back at him. It was always a sort of defense mechanism for you, whenever you felt exposed you countered it with snarky remark.

You closed your eyes hoping that Bruce would just walk away. But he didn't. He stayed there.

Bruce leaned on the railing beside you and waited. You took a deep breath, contemplating you next move carefully.

"...Look It's really silly so can we drop it?", you whispered wondering why in the world would Bruce of all people, care about your feelings.

"Talk to me (Y/N). I can tell when something is bothering you, I may not be your father, but you are my family.", unlike usual, his voice was gentle and genuine when he spoke to you.

"I am really not a fan of surprise birthdays", you stated, starting off vaguely.

"And why is that?"

"Because I...It's silly but this one time I spent a whole week working on a birthday gift for my mom, it was like a craft pop up box which had multiple photos of us together, I made that from scratch! everything in it I made that, I worked hard for it, I did it out of love but when I gave her that surprise gift you know what she said Bruce! She said that I wasted my time that she would've been much happier if I had focused on my studies, she never even once said that she liked it and I--", you looked at him with tears brimming in your eyes, threatening to spill.

"I don't know Bruce, it-it just makes me feel sad you know? every little thing reminds me that my mother doesn’t seem to love me anymore. There is this constant thought in my mind that no one cares about me, about what I do for them and I don’t know what to do with a thought like that."

"That's not true, look around you kiddo, you are surrounded by people who would do anything for you, who love you from the bottom of their hearts", Bruce finally looked at you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"That's the thing! I am not an orphan!", you blurted out and Bruce looked more confused than ever.

"I'm aware"

"No! No you are not. I am not one of those kids you picked up from somewhere, I don't live here, Like I am sure you people aren't even sane, hell! you all make up the most dysfunctional family I have ever seen! I don’t belong here, you people have no reason to care about", Bruce gave you a sideways look, slightly chuckling at your sudden description of the people in the manor.

"But I still love everyone, my mom, you, every dumbass inside the manor right now, no matter much pain they cause me and I don't get why", this time when he looked at you, you didn't look like the vigilante who sucker punched The Riddler in the face last night, you looked like a scared little kid who is lost.

Bruce stood up straight and wrapped you in a hug. Something you never expected to happen in a million years. The shocked settled in after a bit and you wrapped your hands around him, burying your face in his chest.

"The people we love are still people at the end of the day. They act out, and sometimes they let us down, hurt us even, but that doesn't mean we stop loving them. For every bad memory, there will always be a good one that will get you through it. I promise you that (Y/N)", Bruce pulled away and gave you a warm smile. You couldn't help but smile back, your face matching his.

"Okay who are you and what have you done with Bruce Wayne? because I don't recognize this man who is full of emotions and on top of that, is giving free hugs right now", you broke into a grin, making Bruce's face go back to the stoic version.

"If you tell anyone, I will deny it"

"Sure you will"

Suddenly a clattering sound came from the hall, alerting you both. This, however, was followed by a 'I'm okay!' By the one Dick Grayson, which in turn was followed by Duke's 'Oh no!'

"Any idea what that was about?", Bruce inquired raising an eyebrow as you burst out laughing.

"That, you big softie, was the sound of me getting my 20 dollars, now let's get back before they destroy everything."

•°•°

You and Bruce entered back into the hall, everyone was gathered around waiting for Damian and his group to signal the beloved butler's arrival. You stood next to Tim as Jason moved towards the switches to turn off the lights.

"Okay I'll bite why are you covered in frosting before the party even started?"

"Steph", Tim replied, too tired to elaborate, leaving you giggling.

Barbara, Cass and Damian rushed through the door, looking close to terrified, with Titus tagging along.

"He is here, HIDE!", Damian said quickly closing the doors.

After a few moments, the door creaked open and Alfred's voice came through, "Master Damian, you and I will have words for what you did to-- Oh my", he was stuck to his position at the door, too shocked to say anything more after looking at the decorations and bunch gathered around an enormous cake.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALFRED!!", you all exclaimed with extreme excitement.

As the party went on you noticed that there was, in fact, a broken chandelier broomed to the side, later on there were a few not-at-all-safe stunts performed by the boys, some really bad puns made by Dick, all sorts of shenanigans by the others and cake, lots of cake. You looked around, everyone was busy doing something but now you knew Bruce was right:

You have one hell of a family, original, found or otherwise. And you love them all no matter what.

°•°•°•°•

Tags: @thesesickfics-justmakemesick

[sunlight-moonrise]

The Law of Attraction (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reader cannot understand how Spencer is in a relationship with someone who is his complete opposite. 

A/N: Hello Everyone!!! Here’s another story from the secret-fic-swap in the Discord server. I tried my hand at a new genre and I like how it came out. A big thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins​ for helping me make this real nice for y’all (this story was also written to her). Enjoy!

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Content Warnings: If you’re a fan of Max or Maxcer, this may not be the story for you. Sacrifices needed to be made for this story to be told. 

Word Count: 4.2K

Masterlist

The thought that the concept of ‘opposites attract’ was only true when it comes to physics. After all, the comparison of people to magnets doesn’t make any sense. If two people are together, there should be some similarities to build an established relationship, right? Without that foundation, the structure will surely crumble back into the fragmented pieces that created it, leaving them cracked and weaker for it.

Compatibility is necessary, yet there is none whenever I look at them. This is the fourth function that he has brought her to, and with each event, I find it harder to look their way. But when I do find them among the crowd, I can’t look away. Like a car crash or thunderstorm ripping tree roots from the ground.

It doesn’t make sense to me, why on earth would Spencer Reid be with a girl like her.

“If you keep staring at her, she might drop dead,” said a sarcastic voice, breaking me out of my reverie. I turned to see Tara with an amused smile occupying her face.

“I just don’t get it,” I mumbled, focusing my attention on the drink in my hand.

“What’s not to get?” she asked, glancing over at the couple in question. “They seem cute together.”

“They have nothing in common. He might as well be talking to some random person in this bar.”

I chugged the remainder of my beverage with desperate hope that the alcohol will somehow make things better in this situation. It didn’t.

“You sound bitter.”

“I am not bitter,” I bit back.

“I didn’t say you were, I said you sound.”

I didn’t respond to her because deep down I knew she was right. I just fiddled with the straw in my now empty glass as Tara continued, “Look, they both like coffee and going to the park, that’s something.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped my throat at the thought.

“So do half the people on the administration floor, he might as well have a harem if those are the main qualifications.”

“So what type of person should Spencer Reid have?” she asked, an eyebrow arching up as she focused her attention on me.

“I don’t know. Someone who is family-oriented and loves kids. Someone who doesn’t judge him for his idiosyncrasies. Someone who listens to his rambles and actually responds to them. Someone who he can escape to when things get too tough. Someone who understands when to give him space but will continue to support him unconditionally. Someone who can challenge him and make each day exciting and interesting. Someone who can ke—”

“Whoa there, I didn’t think you were going to give me a whole novel.” If she thought that was a novel, then the rest of what I wanted to say would be considered an encyclopedia. The only one that Spencer would never read.  

“I just want him to be happy,” I relented.

It was the simple truth. Everyone deserves some sort of contentment in their life, but with everything that Spencer has gone through in the past, his happiness should be at the forefront. He always put others before himself. It was time that someone prioritizes his wants and needs for a change.

“And she doesn’t make him happy?”

Not in the slightest. 

But I didn’t want to say that. I was sure half of the team already thought, or knew, that I was infatuated with him. But I didn’t need to give them the satisfaction of a confirmation by talking about this any further. The looks that Tara had been giving me the past few minutes validated my belief that I didn’t need to dig myself into a deeper hole.

“Maybe,” I said, hoping to put an end to the topic.

But just then, I heard a laugh despite how noisy the place was. I knew without a doubt that was Spencer’s laugh – it was the only sound that would demand my attention that quickly. It was the one he used when he felt uncomfortable.

“Excuse me, Tara.”

I didn’t give her a chance to reply before I hopped off the barstool and made my way to where Spencer and his girl were as casually as possible. Jennifer and Penelope were also with them, and it seems as if the three ladies were doing most of the talking.

“….like kids someday?” I heard Pen say. I didn’t need to hear the beginning of the sentence to know what it was about.

“Ehh, certainly not. My nephew is a handful as is, I don’t think I need any more than that one in my life,” she laughed. She, of course, being the ever loving, ever annoying, Max. A quick glance at Spencer's face confirmed that he was bothered by the subject being discussed. If the rest of the ladies were a bit more sober, they’d probably have seen it too.

“Hey guys,” I interrupted, taking my previous seat next to JJ, “I ordered some water for us and some appetizers. Tara is going to bring it over when it is ready.”

Cheers and thank you were shouted across the small table, but there was only one face I cared to pay attention to. Spencer’s mouth was quirked in a sad smile that was meant to hide the discomfort that had already taken root in his heart like an invasive vine.

“Did you place my fries order?” Max asked, garnering my attention. As much as I wanted to ignore her, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t openly be a bitch to her, no matter how much she irked me. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Other than stealing the affections of a man I’d never actually pursued, that is. But I couldn’t really blame her for that one, right? I should’ve jumped on the opportunity before. It was my fault.

“Yup,” I answered quickly with a small fake smile before focusing on the wooden décor of the bar.

“So any plans for Halloween? Assuming we don’t get called in for a case of course,” JJ asked the table.

“There is this pop-up haunted house coming that weekend.” Spencer said, his voice laced with that childlike excitement that made my heart race, “It is near the annual fair, so I’m going to try and do both.”

“Awww, that’s a cute date idea.”

The table was silent for a moment before Max announced, “I probably won’t go. I am not a big fan of anything spooky or… horror. I’ll leave all of that to this guy.”

The table shared an awkward laugh in a poor attempt to lighten the mood.

“Anyway,” I coughed out, attempting to save this poor conversation, “you guys need to hear this terrible joke the bartender told me. So basically, this screwdriver walks into a bar….” and just like that, the topic had been changed.

Tara joined us shortly after and the conversation remained lighthearted for the remainder of the evening. We later said our farewells and readied ourselves to go back home. While I should’ve been sad to leave him, I couldn’t help but feel a bitter joy from the fact that Spencer and Max didn’t talk directly to each other for the rest of the night.

●●●

It’s been a couple of weeks since the last team outing. Rossi must’ve missed us, because he decided to host a dinner at his place to celebrate the ending of a long and tough case. No one was going to pass up the opportunity of free food and wine, especially after dealing with a bunch of cops and detectives with entire tree trunks up their asses.

I was the last to arrive, which was not surprising since I live the furthest away from Rossi. Krystall welcomed and settled me in while informing me where everyone was. What I assumed was a team gathering turned out to be a whole party. There were definitely more than two dozen people occupying the space.

Good god. 

“What’s all this?” I asked as I greeted Rossi in the, thankfully, empty kitchen. Because, of course, Rossi wouldn’t be Rossi if he didn’t take care of all the hors d'oeuvres himself.

“Krystall wanted to celebrate our anniversary,” he sighed, as if this ordeal was somehow troublesome. I had to roll my eyes; he wasn’t fooling anyone. We all knew that Rossi would move mountains for his wife.

Their love was pure and genuine, a perfect example of two people meeting again at the right time and sharing something wonderful with one another. As I reminisced on their beautiful wedding day, a thought came to my head.

“Isn’t your first anniversary coming up in a few months?”

“That’s for our second marriage, this is for the first.” Rossi simply stated with a proud smirk, as if it was standard to celebrate any and all anniversaries in life. I supposed that for him, it was.

“Why do I get the feeling that this was more your idea than Krystall’s?”

“Guilty.”

Classic. Well, I wasn’t going to tell a man what he should celebrate nor how to do so. I wasn’t going to ruin any opportunities to eat some fresh crostini.

Once I made my way back out into the main room, I was able to find my team within seconds. My eyes instantly landed on Spencer’s tall and lanky form. And I would’ve been excited for that, if it weren’t for the familiar woman standing beside him.

Max was there. Hooray.

Usually, I was able to properly prepare myself for seeing her. It actually, unfortunately, took a lot of effort to not be openly hostile to someone I dislike. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but it was true. Typically in a situation like this, I’d avoid the person all night. However, I wasn’t going to allow her presence to influence the night, much less stop me from spending time with one of my closest friends.

“Hey guys.”

“Ahh, you’re finally here,” squealed Penelope, “I already grabbed your favorite drink!” She stepped aside to make room for me in the small gathered circle before handing me the glass.

“So what did I miss?”

They all caught me up on the harmless gossip circulating around the office and the new happenings emerging in everyone’s lives. Everything was going well until I heard the next words from Max, words that felt like a bucket of ice water and lead being poured over my head.

“Well, Spencer and I are moving in together.”

Time slowed down, I was sure it had. Because I was able to gauge everything in a matter of seconds. Tara’s concerning glance my way, her hand reaching out and retreating as if to hold me. Penelope’s joyful appearance over the news, her arms rising quickly causing her wine to slightly spill on Rossi’s floor. Matt expressing congratulations as he roughly patted Spencer on the back.

And Spencer….

Spencer looked like he rather be anywhere but here. His lips were drawn in a too tight smile that I knew was far from authentic. He was tapping his heel against the floor and wringing his hands together.

If this was merry news from the two of them, why did he look like he swallowed a spiked fruit?

The loud clanging of metal against glass brought everyone’s attention to the noisy source. Time returned back to its normal pace at Rossi’s call, thanking everyone for joining in on the celebration and announcing that the food was ready in the dining room.

While everyone cheered and made their way towards the ornate display, I headed to the balcony. It was too hot, too stuffy, too loud inside the house. There was one too many people there.

As soon as I passed through the double doors, I took a deep breath of cool, refreshing air. Everything around me felt muffled. Like I had stumbled into a small pocket universe that only differed from ours by a few notches on the volume knob.

I was thinking too many things, and none of them adding up or making sense in my head. How do you move in with someone you’ve only known for such a short amount of time? What was he going to do with his apartment? With his personal belongings that were scattered and settled on crowded shelves? Why did he look so uncomfortable when she announced it? Did he not want us to know? Did he want to say it himself?

“What are you doing out here?”

As if being brought back to reality by the very same hypnotist who enchanted me in the first place, I became aware that I was not the only one on the balcony. I turned to look at Spencer, taking in his disheveled and tired appearance.

“I just needed some space. I was feeling a bit crowded.” It wasn’t a lie, but my companion and I both knew there was a lot more than just that. Trying to keep the attention off me, I asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you. I saw you come out here dressed like that and wondered what would drag you out into the freezing cold.”

Now that he mentioned it, the breeze was hitting hard. I didn’t notice my body trembling until now. It is funny how you can’t feel much when lost in your own thoughts. The pain was a welcome distraction, I supposed.

Spencer stood next to me and shrugged off the suit jacket he was wearing. I opened my mouth to refuse, but he gave me a pointed look before I could. Instead, I accepted the warm jacket over my body. The scent of cinnamon and spice immediately enveloped my form and I tried to hide the way my inhales grew deeper. Trying to keep him as close as I could for however long he would allow. He kept his hands on my arms, rubbing them up and down the sleeves of the jacket to instill some heat in me.  

“So whatever happened to taking it slow?” I asked bluntly, keeping my eyes on the interesting speck of dirt that had ended up on my shoe. I didn’t feel bad about getting to the point -- There was no way I could subtly ask him what the deal was, and I’d rather not beat around the bush.

“Well, after the whole situation that happened, sh— we decided to pick up the pace of things,” he spoke lowly, as if he was unsure of the words coming out of his mouth.

“Has she even met Diana? Or know about her?” I instantly regretted asking, the angry look he shot my way had me feeling remorseful. But it also answered my question.

Max only knew the surface level of Spencer. She wasn’t aware of all the good, bad, beautiful, and ugly layers that comes with a man like him. She wasn’t the only one to blame, but I wondered how a profiler couldn’t tell that he was hiding those parts from her because he didn’t want to share them with her. He didn’t want her to know, because the knowing made it real.

“I just want the best for you.”

His irritated expression dissolved into a defeated one as he released the breath he was holding.

“I know, I know. It’s just…”

He stopped talking, appearing scared to share his opinions and feelings with me before he remembered that, unlike Max, he never had to hide things from me. He didn’t want to.

“It’s just…” I prodded, hoping he would continue with what he was going to say.

But he just stayed stuck there, opening and closing his mouth multiple times. I could practically see the cogs in his brain whirling as he properly tried to explain. “Well, the thing is that Ma—”

“Spencer?”

We sharply turned our heads to see Max and Tara staring at us. It wasn’t until that moment that I remembered our position. With Spencer’s hands rubbing tenderness heat onto my arms, his jacket over my shoulders and our bodies pressed together to keep warm.

It would be one thing if everything was settled, but this situation was anything but. Max had every reason to be angry. This wasn’t a new thing to her. So when she turned around, she stomped away fueled by the belief that she’d nearly caught her boyfriend committing adultery. Again.

“Fuck,” I heard the man in front of me whisper as he released me back into the cold night.

Still, as he left, he looked back at me. His eyes burned into mine up until he tore them away, making his final decision and hastily running from the balcony. Away from me. Towards her.

Tara and I shared the silence, but she looked at me with those inquisitive eyes, as if I was a client seeking out therapy from her.  

“What?” I hissed, “We were just talking.” I refused to feel guilty over something that I didn’t do. If anyone had done anything, it was Spencer. But at the same time, I didn’t think he was entirely wrong, either.  

“I didn’t say anything,” she muttered, holding her hands up high as a sign of surrender.

“You didn’t have to, I can feel the judgment from here.”

“Look, I’m not judging you. But I do want you to put yourself in Max’s shoes. You guys were gone for a while and she finds you two all over each other.”

“What are you talking about, Tara? Christ, it’s not like I was fucking him on the balcony!”

Although I didn’t intend for my words to be humorous, Tara laughed. I was conflicted on whether it was at me or with me, but it ended up amounting to nothing, anyway.

“Look, the night is young and you need to relax. Come back inside, enjoy the party, and don’t let them bring you down. At least for the next few hours.”

She was right, as she usually was. It was why I usually sought her out as the voice of reason; I knew that despite everything, she would always have my best interest at heart.

“Okay,” I agreed before following her back into the chaotic fray.

I heeded her advice and avoided the couple for the remainder of the night. Shockingly, it was pretty easy, but I was sure it was because they were avoiding me too. There were times, lots of times, where Spencer and I made eye contact, but we’d just as quickly look away, as if we were ashamed of what we have done.

All we did was talk. So why did it feel like something more?

There were also times when I made eye contact with Max, but instead of shame, there was anger and contempt. If looks could kill, like Tara had suggested, I was sure my heart would have given out.

It wasn’t until later in the evening that I saw Max take a cab home while Spencer was still inside the house. No one else but me noticed that they didn’t leave the party together.

●●●

I hadn’t seen Spencer since the incident at Rossi’s a few weeks ago. He had to take his mandatory sabbatical leave and I had to take an abrupt trip back home. What used to be almost daily texts between us became nonexistent in a matter of hours. It was a terrible predicament that I was hoping to fix soon.

As I arrived, I spotted him at his desk. For a long time, I stood there staring at him. If he wasn’t nose deep in a bunch of files, I was sure he would’ve seen me, too. I contemplated on how I should go up to him, but nothing I could think of was good enough to say. 

Hey, I have your jacket, I took it to the dry cleaner’s, so it is all clean. Rid of me like you wanted to be. 

Hi, how were the lectures this time around? Still have a bunch of teens crushing on you?

What’s up, it’s been a while, do you want to get lunch during the break?

I hated that things were awkward, even though I was pretty sure that I was the only one that was making it so. I should have just gone up to him, greeted him, and acted like everything was normal, because everything was normal. Right?

Just when I was about to do so, Emily called us in for a meeting. Impeccable timing.

We had a serial killer case in Louisville, Kentucky. My situation with Spencer was going to the backburner.

During our stay in Louisville, Spencer and I barely interacted. We exchanged notes and passed long messages, but that’s pretty much it. I wasn’t surprised. Our specialties don’t really correlate when we are working on a case. Anytime I did catch some free time, I’d look his way, longing for the opportunity to speak to him. He didn’t look back.

Then, just as the case ended, another chance presented itself. After five days of hardly any proper rest, we finally found the unsub. Everyone was in their respective room catching up on some much needed sleep. Except for Spencer, whose gangly body was tucked away at the bar by himself, a glass of what appeared to be soda in front of him.

Silently, I took the seat next to him, and for a few minutes, everything was quiet. But unlike the usual, comfortable quiet, it was torturous.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

I stared at him, letting the silent communication denote the fact that I knew he was lying to me. Spencer released a sigh and looked at me with eyes more intoxicating than any whiskey that shared their color.

“Actually, no, I’m not okay.”

I was going to ask him what was wrong or if there was anything I could do to help, but before I had the chance to do so, he hastily answered the question I hadn’t asked.

“Max and I broke up.”

I stared at him, my face and mind blank as I tried to comprehend what he’d said. That Max and Spencer broke up. They were no longer together. Spencer was single.

I thought that if this ever happened, I would be happy, elated, jumping at the chance to take her place by his side. But I felt none of those things.

“What happened?” I didn’t want to appear nosy or meddlesome, but I needed to know.

“We were fighting a lot, and I couldn’t take it.”

“Oh.”

“We were… actually fighting about you.”

I sharply turned my head at him, both intrigued and disturbed by the implication that I had anything to do with the failure of their relationship.

“What? What about me?”

“She thought I liked you,” he said while staring straight back at me, daring me to scan through each fleck of gold and green to ensure that he was telling the truth. But his hazel eyes expressed nothing but honesty as he continued, “and she was right. I do.”

“Y-you do?”

All he could do was nod his head, lifting his hand and catching a loose strand of hair before tucking it behind my ear.

“Can I try something?” Spencer shyly requested.

Once again, the universe felt different. I held my breath, trying to wake from the dream. Although he didn’t say it, I had an idea of what he wanted. If the hand on the side of my face and the staring at my lips were anything to go by, I knew what was going to happen next.

I nodded back and closed my eyes. A few seconds passed, the sweetest kind of anticipation. But then I felt the gentle pressure of his lips against my own, sweet and tender. He moved his head to get a better angle while I brought my hands up to cup his face. The roughness of his stubble against the tip of my fingers was a perfect contrast to the softness of him. I could taste the soda he was drinking on his tongue and breathed in the cinnamon scent that seemed sunken into his skin.

When we pulled away, it was full of hesitation. All it took was one look for us to know we couldn’t do this. Not now, not yet. He was still healing from the recent break up and I didn’t want to be a rebound. I didn’t want us to resent one another for jumping into a relationship so soon. We weren’t ready.

We sat there in relative silence, taking in everything that has happened.

“Maybe one day,” he paused “one day we can give it a chance.”

“Yes. I’d like that.” I beamed at him, “And I look forward to that day. Until then, we remain as friends.”

He returned my smile and I realized that it had been a while since I’ve seen his real smile. I missed it so much.

“Friends,” he confirmed.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt relief and comfort. Because I knew everything was going to be okay. I had hope that someday Spencer will get the happily ever after he deserves and he’ll get it with me by his side. One day.

[tomhiddelstonandzaynmalik]

Love at first sight?

Chapter 7

prologue chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 Chapter 6

Warren Worthington III x reader

Word count: 1259 words.

Warnings: language

"Once upon a time, there was a lonely creature

Mind always shrouded in darkness

Hopeless was he, without a prayer for salvation

Dwelling forever in the abyss [...]".

-The Demon Loved an Angel by Xan Abyss

"fuck,fuck,fuck,fuck,fuck!". "Had I been too forward?". "What if she thought I was a perv?". "You twat, you can't do anything right, can you?".

Warren's inner voice was screaming at him. The tender kiss and quick wink had seemed appropriate at the time for some unknown reason. You see, it wasn't Warren's style to show his affection to others, even more so with people he knew recently.

"Darling, how many times must I tell you: One shall never do any public display of affection, for it must be reserved only for those you are close to in the confinements of one's home." Warren's mom said, kneeling in front of him after his seven-year-old son had rushed to squeeze in a hug a kind waiter who'd managed to sneak one of the leftover chocolate treats before the little kid left the exclusive Gala he'd attended to with his parents. "Even when they give me chocolate truffles?" The little boy said. "Even when they give you chocolate truffles. It is not proper etiquette, Warren". The kid couldn't help the weepy look on his face. He was still too young to understand it. Why couldn't he show his love for the people he liked? Nor the silver lining from his mother's words. "People like us cannot mix with people like them". After all, the Worthingtons were one of the wealthiest families in Europe. They belonged to the elite. For them interacting with the working class was a capital sin.

Even when Warren had left his former life behind years ago, old habits die hard. Like it or not, his family's beliefs had been engraved into his mind, resulting in Warren rejecting any affection altogether that turned him into the most touch-starved man on earth. Whereas it was coming from an older man like Hank, caressing his shoulder in a comforting manner after one of his usual nightmares. Or from his only friend patting his back after he splurged out the sassiest come-back ever. Even when the physical contact had come from an almost stranger like Peter, they were quite an emotional shock, making Warren's mind rewind those interactions on an endless loop.

"[...] But then one glorious afternoon

An angel's light broke through the gloom

They were both far from home

In a land they didn't know

She held out her hand

And asked him to follow [...]".

Perhaps it was the fact you forgave him without a second thought for having almost killed you. It could have also been how you never seemed to disapprove of anything he let out about his past. Maybe it was how your beautiful Y/E/C eyes would sparkle slightly whenever your gazes crossed paths. Another possibility was how talking with you was comfortable it was light and free of judgement, allowing him to open up unconsciously. Or the way you would tilt your head to the side in curiosity when he told you about a particularly delicate subject.

"... And that's how I got stuck with this fucking monstruosities". "What the hell? They're fucking awesome, Angel!". You said, taken aback. "Well, if you say I'm an angel now, you would've lost your shit if you had seen me with my former ones". Yes, his Horseman wings were sleek and imposing but, they were nowhere near that majestic white-feathery pair of wings he used to have. "Angels were supposed to be God's soldiers, you know? I don't know about you, Angel, but these beauties do fit with the description!".

And for the first time, Warren hated them a little less. After all, you had seen beauty into the grimmest-looking part in his body.

Or most definitely, it was all of the above which had made Warren's instinct act on its own, allowing them to come out for you to see them.

"HURRY UP, YOUNG MAN!". Just like before, a shrilling sound followed by Charles's voice inside Warren's head made him twist in pain. He got so lost in himself he couldn't notice he'd been standing in the foyer all along.

It was 11:25 when he entered the professor's office, it hadn't been so late, but for someone like Charles, even 5 minutes past the agreed time was an atrocity. "Don't worry sitting down since you're this late, we only have five minutes before my next appointment". Charles wasn't pleased with Warren's tardiness but tried to remain with the same calmness so distinctive of him. "I'm sorry, I got-". "I know, I know, you got entertained with our new arrival". Charles had cut him off mid-sentence, and after mentioning you, he couldn't help the knowing smile to come up, causing Warren to feel embarrassed.

"I'll go straight to the point. Do you have any plans for yourself, warren?". the question had surprised him. Living on the streets makes you focus your energy on making it through the day. there is no time to think about the future when you don't even know if you'll make it to next week. "Not really". Warren let out. "What would you say about staying here?". "I would say, I was never a fan of homework".

The concept of living at Xavier's was weird. Wasn't it a school? The last time he set foot in a classroom, Warren had been 14. Yes, by then, he was fluent in 7 languages, played multiple instruments to perfection and could recite Shakespeare by memory. But that had been eight years ago. Who knows just how far behind the rest he would be if he started school again. "Don't worry about that, Warren. You do not necessarily need to be a student to live here. There are plenty of other options". He clarified after reading the young man's mind. "Oh yeah? like what?". He asked with an untrusting look. "You can teach music or any of the many languages you know, or train the older students... or perhaps you would like to join our "little club" ". The man was talking about the X-MEN which caused Warren's demons to show up once more. "You are not a hero you dumb bitch! You never were and you will never be".

Charles took notice of Warren's overwhelmed face and said something before it was too late. "Those were only the first things that came up to me. What I'm trying to say is, you have to start to think ahead. You survived the crash for a reason, Warren. Maybe this is life's way of telling you what happened in the past is now gone, that you need to start moving on. We all want you to stay, Warren. Not just to be a passer-by." The Professor was wheeling towards the door where Warren stood doubtful. "Just think about what I said, please." "Now, if you will excuse me. I'm about to ask a young lady the very same thing". With that, The Professor wheeled out headed to the infirmary room.

"That cleaver old man". Warren mutter to himself, amazed by Charles' intellect. He knew if he pulled the right strings, like implying the possibility of you staying at Xavier's, Charles would honestly make him consider the idea of settling down here too.

"[...] They knew they had to return home

But he could not say goodbye

The thought of losing her forever

Ripped through him inside[...]".

And maybe, he wasn't so wrong after all.

[sevlgi]

you were beautiful

requested: no

group: stray kids

pairing: lee know x fem!reader

genre: angst, questionable fluff

contents: amnesia!au, dancer!minho, receptionist!reader who can’t remember him

warnings: mentions of an accident

synopsis: There isn’t much you remember from your old life, but you know someone is missing. When he comes to find you, you have to decide how many memories of the past are worth bringing back.

a/n: lmao please give my fic a chance, i promise it’s worth a read

word count: 7.5k

Deja vu. 

For the longest time, Minho hadn’t understood what the word really meant despite all of Seungmin’s attempts to explain the concept to him. He just didn’t know how something could be so familiar and yet foreign at the same time, could feel like the past despite being the present, and he definitely didn’t believe that he’d ever be able to feel it for himself.

But on a sunny Monday afternoon, being dragged to the hospital by Felix, Minho understands. He feels, and he stumbles onto his friends in front of him.

“Minho hyung, are you okay?” Changbin asks, seeing the look on the dancer’s face. He absolutely would be pushing him back, if it wasn’t for the stricken expression that currently resides on Minho’s face “Hyung?”

“It’s her,” Minho breathes out, his eyes scanning the front of the hospital for the all-too-familiar smile that he’s sure he saw. Felix exchanges a glance with Chan behind his back as Minho bounds up the stairs, panting from the exertion it took to sprint across the courtyard. “It’s Y/N, I know it is--”

Felix frowns, “Y/N? Which one? I know there’s a receptionist working here who’s named Y/N, but...”

“No, you don’t understand,” Minho interrupts, whirling back to face the 3 others. If Jisung or Seungmin were there, Minho would’ve already been ripped to shreds, but Chan, Felix, and Changbin only stare at him worriedly. “My Y/N.”

It clicks in his friends’ minds, and Changbin surges forward to yank the hospital doors open. “It can’t be,” Chan insists, though he follows the other 3 inside. “Minho, Y/N broke up with you and said she was moving to England 2 years ago.”

Shaking his head, Felix sighs, “Okay, wait. Hyung, we have to go see Jisung, the others are waiting there for us. I promise we can go and look later, okay?”

Minho opens his mouth to protest, but his phone buzzes in his pocket. Hyunjin, probably, calling to make sure that they’re on their way to comfort Jisung about his broken leg. And Minho has never hated the squirrel-cheeked boy more as he sighs and nods, following the others to the reception desk that Felix claims is two halls down.

Of course, it isn’t. “I’m sorry,” the blonde boy sighs and takes his phone out. “I’ll call-- my friend. Hang on.”

He talks lowly over the phone, and Minho has to bite down, hard, on his own lip just to keep himself from running down the hall again. But soon enough, he hears Felix laughing, exchanging hello’s with someone, and he has to turn.

As soon as he does, the thing that he assumes to be deja vu hits him again, and Minho clutches his hand to his stomach. It’s you, in the flesh-- after all, no one would be able to replicate your smile so perfectly, and no one could possibly be able to mimic a face as perfect as yours. Your hair’s different than he remembers, but it’s been years, and--

“Hi. I’m Y/N,” you introduce yourself, shaking hands with Chan and Changbin before holding your hand out to him. “I’m Felix’s friend, the receptionist.”

“Uh,” Minho manages. Something about the look on his friends’ faces tells him no, that it isn’t the right time, but he can’t exactly stop himself. “Y/N, it’s me. Minho.”

Your smile is confused now, and your hand falters in the air. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow. Have we met?”

He frowns, stepping slightly forward, though not enough to alarm you. Felix looks panicked behind you, but he’s frozen in place as Minho says, “Don’t- don’t lie to me. Y/N--”

“I’m sorry,” Chan cuts in, stepping between you and Minho. “He... he had an ex, uh, with the same name. I guess you guys look alike too.”

You still look concerned, but you pass it off with a smile and a laugh. “Oh, that’s funny. Same name, same face? If she wasn’t your ex, I’d like to meet her.”

Changbin laughs for him, tugging Minho forward. “Yeah, it’s really funny. Uh, what room is Jisung in?”

With the prompt, you turn back to Felix and affectionately punch him in the arm before leading the way. Minho’s stomach twists with jealousy; after all, there’s no way two people who look and sound the exact same exist, especially with the same name, and he can’t shake the thought that you are the one he’s been trying to forget. But you make your way to Jisung’s room soon enough, and open the door for the 4 boys. “Here you are. Come get me if you need anything,” you smile, your eyes lingering on Minho for just a second before you leave. Maybe he imagines it.

“Yo, hyungs and Felix!”

Jisung shouts loud enough to distract Minho, and he turns to find the hospital room filled with his friends. Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jeongin are crowded onto one tiny sofa, while Changbin has started to annoy them. Felix and Chan crouch by Jisung’s side while he waves and grins at Minho. “You see what Hyunjin has done to me?”

“I did not,” the long-haired boy protests, a tangle of long limbs under Jeongin, who’s basically treating him as part of the couch. “You tried that stupid trick after Seungmin dared you, it’s not my fault.”

“Shut up, both of you, and hand me a pen,” Minho grumbles, sinking to a side beside Jisung’s elevated leg. To be honest, he wants some excuse to see you at the desk again, to listen to your voice and compare it to the one always echoing in his head, but he distracts himself. “I’m drawing a dick and you can’t stop me.”

“Chan hyung,” Jisung whines while he tries to kick Minho away with his good leg. The cast is bright pink, to Minho’s amusement, and it picks up the black of his marker well. “Minho hyung, I’ll never forgive you if you make me walk around with a dick on my leg.”

Minho snickers, “You can’t exactly walk.”

Chan sighs and shoves Minho, though it’s light. “Come on, stop bullying him.”

“I have to go to physical therapy, too,” Jisung pouts. “You’ll embarrass me.”

“Oh yeah?” Despite all his bravado, Minho just signs his name near Jisung’s ankle, as messy and large as he can make it. “For how long?”

“We don’t know yet,” Jeongin speaks up. “Y/N’s going to come in and tell us, but I really want to go out and ask her.”

Excitement courses through Minho, and he stands up, the pen clattering to the linoleum floor besides his feet. “I can do it. I remember where the reception desk is.”

Felix looks concerned and he asks, “Are you sure you can... handle it? Hyung, I’m friends with Y/N, maybe I should go.”

Minho waves their concerns off, Seungmin leaning in to ask Changbin what happened outside. “I won’t embarrass you, Lix, at least not terribly. I’ll get Hannie’s results, and then I’ll be right back.”

As soon as he’s out of room 914, the warmth and light inside escapes, and the smell of alcohol burns Minho’s nose. In all his excitement, he had forgotten how much he hates hospitals, hates the way everyone inside only looks one step closer to death. But he peeks around a corner to where he remembers your desk to be and arranges a polite smile on his face as he approaches you. “Y/N?”

“That’s me, how may I--” You pause when you swivel around to him, but the smile reappears soon enough. “Minho, right? You’re done visiting Jisung this quickly?”

“Not exactly,” he chuckles. “Uh, I just heard from the others that they’re still waiting for his results? About how long he has to do physical therapy and stay here?”

You nod at that and pull your keyboard towards you. Gods, you’re so familiar-- the way your tongue pokes into your cheek as you type, the way you narrow your eyes despite being able to see the screen. Minho hates how much he remembers about you. It has to be you, he convinces himself, whether you’re lying about knowing him or not. “Ah. Well, hang on, the system’s a bit slow,” you chuckle.

“That’s okay,” Minho shrugs. It’s actually exactly what he wants-- time, for him to ask a few simple, nonimposing questions. “So, uh, when did you start working here? I’ve been here a couple times, never saw you.”

“I actually only transferred here last month,” you answer with a smile. “I used to work at the hospital downtown, Lixie met me there.”

“Lixie, huh?” Minho attempts at a smile, but you don’t know him well enough to see that it’s fake. “That’s cute. You guys are close? Did you help him there or something?”

You shake your head, typing something into the computer despite the loading screen. “No, actually, I was a patient at the time. I had amnesia,” you sigh, tapping your fingers on your chin. 

Minho raises his eyebrows. His heartbeat is quickening-- depending on when you had amnesia, it’s a possible explanation for whatever’s happening. “Amnesia. That’s tough. Uh, how’d you get it? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind,” you smile, turning back to him. “It was about two years ago, I think. I got in a car crash, but I got lucky. My cousin was with me, so the doctors knew my name and all my essential information. It would’ve been a lot worse if I didn’t know who I was, you know?”

He opens his mouth to ask another question, but he feels an arm slide around his neck. It’s Hyunjin, apparently escaped from the confines of Jisung’s tiny room. “Hi, Y/N,” he greets. “Are we any closer to those results?”

“Just about,” you exhale, standing up. “They’re printing, I’ll go get those for you guys.”

As soon as you’re out of earshot, Hyunjin murmurs, “Chan hyung told me what’s up. So, you think it’s her?”

“I don’t think,” Minho hisses. “I know. She said she got in a car crash and had amnesia two years ago, and it matches up with why she doesn’t recognize me. She still knows her name because of her cousin, and- it’s her, Hyunjin. It has to be.”

Hyunjin hesitates, apparently not as convinced as the older boy. “But if she was with her cousin, wouldn’t she know about you? I mean, if it was me, I’d tell my cousin about the guy she just broke up with.”

Minho almost answers, but you’re back, sliding a file across the table. “Get that to Jisung, okay?” you grin, sitting back down. “And come find me if you need something else. Nice talking to you, Minho.”

Snatching the file away, the younger boy guides Minho back to the room. “Hey. If you really think it’s her,” Hyunjin says softly before opening the door again, “go for it. You still have the texts saved, don’t you? Show her. Even if you can’t help her remember, you’ll get your closure.”

Quietly, Minho shakes his head. “I- I can’t. Even if she never broke up with me-- which isn’t possible-- I can’t know that she’s still here, still alive, and that she’ll never remember me.”

Hyunjin reaches over to shake Minho and argues, “But she hasn’t changed. If she loved you once, she can love you again, okay? Just... just try. For yourself.”

Before he can debate Hyunjin again, Seungmin opens the door with a fake scowl. “Hey, what took you so long?”

“Asshole,” Minho frowns back, glad for something to argue about. Seungmin’s always the perfect one to bicker with, his eye rolls as he backs away to let the two boys in the perfect way to rile Minho up. “Hey, don’t you roll your eyes at me!”

For all of his friend’s glances at him, glances that he lets slip by as he ruffles Jisung’s hair rougher than necessary, Minho can admit to himself that he won’t approach you again, at least not for the purpose of finding out what truly happened. It’s difficult, but he can even admit to himself why he wont.

He’s scared. Terrified, even, that he’ll only find out what he knew all along.

You’re good with faces.

It’s kind of a requirement to be a receptionist; after all, nothing makes people happier than being remembered, even if it’s something as simple as being recognized without an introduction while arriving to physical therapy. Besides, after struggling to get back to your normal life for two years, your biggest fear is to lose your memories again.

So when Jisung gets driven to physical therapy a week after you meet his friends, you instantly recognize his driver.

“Minho,” you smile, waving at him. He flushes for some reason, and you stifle a chuckle at the tint of pink in his pale cheeks. He’s cute; your first meeting just put you off a bit. “How’re you doing?”

“Don’t I get a greeting?” Jisung pouts, pushing through with his crutches. He’s joking, of course, so you only laugh fondly. “Well, you know why I’m here.”

You check him in with a nod, and call out after Minho, “You don’t have to stay with him for PT, you know. It’s going to be boring, you can come back out after helping him inside.”

Minho laughs, “Thanks for the tip. I’m definitely not staying with him, I’ll be right out.” Jisung’s protests follow them down the hall, and you return to your keyboard with a soft chuckle.

It’s true that after your first encounter with Minho, you wondered whether there was something about your life before the accident that Dahyun didn’t tell you. But your phone broke in the car wreck, and there must’ve been things that you didn’t tell your cousin. 

However, in the back of your mind, you can still hear the way Minho said your name. ‘Y/N’, he had breathed, so desperately. You had to have been important to him, too important for you to have never told anyone about him, but when he comes out of Jisung’s room, you assume the role of the friendly receptionist once again.

“Hey,” you wave. “Just so you know, Jisung’s scheduled for a full hour. I’m clocking out for the day in a couple minutes, but you can have him text you when he’s done so you can pick him up. I have to get going, I need to eat before I get on the tram, and it’s a long walk from here.”

Minho raises his eyebrows, shuffling his feet. “You’re clocking out?” At your nod, he clears his throat and offers, “If you haven’t eaten yet, I can drive you to the tteokbokki place near the tram station? I can drop you off, I won’t stay with you if you aren’t comfortable.”

You laugh at his awkwardness, though he’s charismatic enough to make it simply cute. “That would be great, actually. Just give me a second.” While you’re gathering your things, Minho shuffles aside, staring outside to the parking lot as if it’s genuinely interesting, and you crack a smile when you approach him. “Hey. I’m good to go.”

“Let’s go, then,” he smiles, and opens the door for you. The more you see of him, the more familiar he feels-- it really is as if you’ve met him before. Even his car feels like you recognize it, the steady thrum of the engine and the feel of worn leather beneath your fingertips something that you can’t quite put your finger on. Minho doesn’t speak much, though he puts on some music that feels vaguely familiar to you, some boy rapping over a simple beat.

Before you know it, you’ve arrived at the station, and it barely takes a couple minutes to walk down to the tteokbokki place. For some reason, you feel comfortable around Minho, safe, like you’ve felt with Felix and all his friends that you’ve met so far. Maybe the Australian boy attracts all the good people, you smile to yourself, or maybe you do.

“I’ll pay, what do you want?” Minho offers and takes his wallet out. Though you move to protest, he smiles and holds up a hand, “I insist. You’ve had to deal with me this much already, it’s the least I can do. Besides, you’ll be seeing me a lot, with Jisung’s PT.”

You can only agree and watch him rattle off your order to the cashier. Minho’s smile is almost the same for everyone, his eyes curving and his teeth bright, but it’s the eyes that make the difference. It’s interesting. “Are you the only one of Jisung’s friends who can drive?”

“Ah, not really. The 00 liners and Jeongin don’t have their licenses, of course,” he hums and hands his credit card over. “But Channie is busy with work all the time, and Changbin feels like Jisung bullies him. So that leaves me.”

“I see,” you exhale, following him to an empty table. “You must make quite a bit to afford a car and a parking space. What do you do?”

“Me?” Minho clarifies, even though he’s the only one you could be talking to. “I’m a dancer. Mostly a backup dancer, but sometimes I teach classes or choreograph for idols. I don’t make that much, but I drive all over Seoul, so I thought a car would be a good investment.”

“Not a bad decision,” you smile. “Especially since you saved me the walk over here. You know that every time you drive Jisung over, I’ll be forcing you to give me a ride, right?”

You’re joking, of course; you barely know Minho. But something about your tone changes the glance in his eyes, and his grin fades the slightest bit. Suddenly, he moves towards his bag. “C- can I show you something?”

“Sure,” you shrug. “As long as it’s not... you know.”

“You’ve got jokes,” Minho mumbles, digging through the pockets for his phone. “I like that.”

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, slightly heightened by his frantic scrolling. You greet and thank the ahjussi who brings you your food, still waiting for him to show you. Before he does, though, Minho looks up with a hesitant expression. “Y/N. Whatever I say, you can’t be alarmed, okay?”

“I can’t make that promise,” you shake your head, “but I’ll do my best.”

He inhales-- then exhales. “Your name is Y/N Y/L/N. You were born on _ _/ _ _/ _ _ _ _, and you were born here. You attended college at Seoul University, though you’ve probably forgotten your major. Your parents’ names are __ Y/L/N and __ Y/L/N, and your cousin is Kim Dahyun.”

Instantly, you bolt out of your seat, ready to run. “H-how do you know that?” Your voice shakes, and your eyes dart from Minho to the booth. He doesn’t look like a threat-- in fact, he looks pained, biting down on his lip before sliding his phone across the table. “What is that?”

“Just take a look.”

When you gingerly slide your eyes to the screen, you gasp; it displays what you assume to be an old photo of you-- and Minho. You remember Dahyun showing you pictures of yourself with that hairstyle-- high school, she said-- but you definitely don’t remember seeing any pictures with Minho. He’s unmistakable even in the uniform, and you’re laughing at him in a way that suggests what you’ve suspected since meeting him-- you were close, to say the least. “We were... friends?” you whisper, barely daring to meet his eyes. When he shakes his head, you lower your fist, previously held up to punch, and say softly, “We loved each other. Like that.”

“Yeah,” Minho sighs, taking his phone back. “By the way, does the date 5/19 ring a bell to you?”

“It was the day I woke up,” you answer. Suddenly, your throat is too tight to swallow, and you take your place next to him cautiously. “They... they told me I’d never get my memories back that day. What does it mean to you?”

Minho bites his lip and hands you his phone again. “It was the day you broke up with me.”

"Lee Minho,” you read aloud, “we need to break up. Ouch, that does not sound like me.”

He winces but tries to play it off with a chuckle, “Yeah, I know. I had to read that.”

“We have dated for years, but we...”

You frown and shake your head, scrolling through the text again even though you’re sure that you didn’t miss anything. “The wording, the phrasing... it doesn’t sound like me.” But that’s you on the profile picture, the exact photo of you that Dahyun showed you to gain your trust that first day in the hospital. You raise your head to look at Minho, who’s still staring at you. “This is fucked up.”

“You’re telling me,” he sighs, plucking his phone away. “I tried to text you back after this, tried to call you, but you never picked up. I did all I could, but I watched you leave. So... I think you understand why I was so desperate when I saw you.”

“I think I do,” you say, with your voice soft. It makes sense, now, why Minho looked like he was seeing a ghost when he caught that first glimpse of your face. Because you were a ghost, at least to him, somehow back from the dead in the lobby of the tiny hospital you worked in. “They told me my phone was dead. That’s why I didn’t have any of my old contacts, or my information.”

Minho fills your silence. “And that’s why you never saw my texts, or heard my calls. I- I’m so sorry, that I blamed you at all.”

You catch his wrist and try to smile, “Hey, I don’t blame you for blaming me. It isn’t possible for me to have texted you this with a broken phone and no memories, so... whoever did text you was an asshole. You can blame them all you like.”

His eyes flick over your face, almost like he’s committing you to memory in case you become a ghost again. “Yeah.” But the alarm rings, ten minutes before the last tram home leaves, and Minho’s phone buzzes at the same time. “Um. Can... can we talk about this again? Next time I see you?”

“Of course,” you answer. Maybe you’ll regret that promise, but you know that you’ll regret it more if you never search for what actually happened. And the glow to Minho’s smile when you say ‘yes’ follows you all the way onto the tram, or more specifically, the look in his eyes.

You’d already noticed that Minho looked differently at different people. His gaze was fond at Jisung, sometimes annoyed, and his eyes crinkled in a polite smile in front of the booth workers or your fellow receptionists. You had just never been able to tell how he looked at you, because it was strange, an expression you didn’t recognize.

But staring at his newly-inputted contact on your phone, you realize what it is. Minho looks at you like he knows you inside out, like he loves you more than anything else in the world. 

And you aren’t sure which is worse.

Felix isn’t a good liar; from the first time you met, and he told you that you didn’t look horrible in that grimy hospital gown of yours, you knew that he’d never be able to keep a secret. So when you don’t know how to move forward from the whole other side of yourself that you just uncovered, he has to be the first one you talk to.

“Y/N!” He shouts your name with his hands cupped around his mouth despite only being a couple feet away from you, and he plops down onto the stool next to you. “What’s up?”

“Felix, what has Minho told you about me? Or, about Y/N?” He tenses up at the question, and you can’t blame him; you usually aren’t so direct, and it must be difficult to tell you about his friend’s secrets.

But Felix bites his lip and sighs, looks up at the ceiling as if it’ll tell him what to do. “Um, well... he said you guys were classmates. High school and college, but you only started dating when you were 17. He never showed me pictures of you, so I assumed that you hurt him really bad.” You wince at that, but motion for the Australian boy to continue. “Minho hyung... he never dated while I’ve been friends with him. We all thought it was because he was never over you, and I guess he still isn’t.”

“Well, shit,” you sigh, sinking into your hands. “I feel horrible now.”

“Why?” Felix places a gentle hand on your shoulder and shakes you lightly. “He said that you didn’t think it was you who sent the text, and Dahyun just didn’t tell you about him? It’s not your fault.”

You only shake your head hopelessly and attempt to explain, “I didn’t want to get back into this. I trusted Dahyun to tell me everything, and after 2 years, I find out that I had a boyfriend? Who I ‘broke up with’, and who I hurt really bad. I have to know now, for Minho’s sake if not for mine.”

Felix sighs, “Look, Y/N, I’m sure Minho hyung will understand if you don’t want to get into it all again. He- he loved you, but I think he knows you aren’t who used to be. I think.”

“No, Felix- he never told me that he wanted me to find the answer,” you say quietly. “I just... I can see that he’ll never be able to disassociate me with the Y/N he knew. My face, my mannerisms- Dahyun says I act the same as I used to, and that’s too painful for him if we’ll never know the truth.”

He pauses, then passes you the coffee that a barista slides across the counter. Maybe Felix doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to tell you. But he murmurs in his familiar deep voice, “You’re kind, Y/N, but you have to think about yourself, okay? It’ll hurt Minho to not know, but it’ll hurt you to find out. And I don’t want to see either of you with a broken heart.”

The next time you see Minho, you find yourself analyzing every one of his movements, as if the tiniest hint of familiarity will bring your memories of him back to you.

You’re only drinking coffee together and trying to act like nothing else is between you, but you’re staring at his hands when he cracks his knuckles every so often. You wish that the way his lips curl into a smile was familiar, and you wish you recognized the way his eyelashes frame the brown of his eyes. But as much as you think you’ve seen something before, the fact remains that you barely know a single thing about Minho, while there’s nothing about you that you can hide from him.

It’s been years since you hated how little you remembered. Back when you first learned that the first twenty years of your life had been wasted, you screamed out for whatever all-seeing being to restore your life, and you had no idea if you could go back to the life you had been living with absolutely no memory of it.

Dahyun said she showed you everything. She brought you back to your family home, told you what she could about your parents, who hugged you with tears in their eyes. You stayed there at first, but you couldn’t handle the glances that your family made at you, couldn’t handle the way they still mourned the loss of their daughter.

You didn’t know enough about what used to be to miss it. But when you speak to Minho, you realize that there is something you would miss, something that you would want to chase. And so, you can’t know what it is.

“Y/N, you okay?” He asks, the smile still on his face from telling you about the cats you helped him pick out when he got his own place.

Shaking your head, you nod. “Yeah, sorry for zoning out. I’m just... thinking.”

“About what to do, right?” Minho takes your silence for agreement, and he turns to the window with a sigh. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking too. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you, I was selfish not to think how it would make you curious about your old self.”

“No,” you sigh. “I get it. You had to tell me, I imagine it’s still painful to see my face.”

Minho shakes his head, tilting his head as if that’ll let him see more of you. “No, it isn’t painful at all. I see you analyzing me, though, trying to recognize me.”

Heat rises to your ears, and you try to hide it by flicking your eyes away from his face. “Was I that obvious? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Minho.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugs. He cracks his knuckles again; you imagine that you used to put your hands over his to get him to stop, but you brush the thought away as fast as you can. “What do you want to do, though? It’s too difficult to stay away from each other in a town like this, especially when we have a mutual friend. But I’ll try my best to do what you want me to.”

You bite your lip and tap your hands on your knee. To be truthful, you’ve known what you wanted to do for a long time; you know exactly what you want to say, and you know who you want to say it to. “I want us to talk to Dahyun,” you answer. “I think... I can’t ask her about it. But I want to see how she reacts to seeing you.”

When he doesn’t respond, you almost move to touch his arm. “Minho? You can tell me if you don’t walk to talk to her, I won’t force you to do it.”

But he turns, tries to disguise the rueful smile on his face. He fails, of course, and you draw your hand back. “No, I... I’m sorry, that just reminded me of something. I’ll come with you.”

“Okay. I’m going to lunch with her tomorrow,” you explain, scrolling through the calendar on your phone, “and I think that’s the time. I’ll just say you’re my friend or something, and we’ll see how she reacts.”

Minho frowns, “Is it suspicious to randomly bring a friend to lunch with your cousin? Or do you do that often?”

You sigh at that and pause your scrolling to think. “No, you’re right. I think I’ll have to say you’re my boyfriend or something, then she’ll be excited to expect you.”

“Boyfriend? How do you know I’m not dating someone already?” Minho jokes. You laugh lightly and push his arm without thinking, but his smile only grows as he protests, “I’m serious! Do you not think I’d be dating someone by this time?”

“I see the way you look at me,” you chuckle, “If you were dating someone, I’d feel bad for them.”

Silence settles again, and you wince, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have... shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, should be me that’s sorry,” he mumbles, ruffling his hair. “I shouldn’t be making you uncomfortable, I know that you’re a different person at this point. Uh, could you send me the location of the restaurant? And the time?”

You recognize his attempt to change the subject, and you accept it gratefully. “Yeah. It’s noon tomorrow, but I think we should arrive together.”

“I’ll pick you up from the hospital,” he smiles, moving to crack his knuckles yet again.

Maybe it’s out of nervousness, maybe it’s just a habit, but you move to stop it this time, your hand resting gently over his. “Stop that,” you mumble to hide the heat in your cheeks. “I read somewhere that it hurts your knuckles. You’ll get arthritis.”

“You work in a hospital, you should know that that isn’t how it works,” Minho snickers, but he doesn’t move your hands off him. Strangely, this feels familiar, like you’ve done it before, like it’s always been comfortable. So you don’t move, only sip your coffee with your spare hand and try not to think about what could’ve been.

Minho opens the door for you yet again, bowing slightly when you pass through the doorway. “She’s here already, yeah?” His voice is soft when he speaks to you, and his hands in his pockets when he catches up to you again in the restaurant. He’s the picture of calmness, except for the way his eyes flick around the restaurant like he can recognize your cousin before you do. “I haven’t seen her in years.”

“She went to the same school as us, didn’t she?” you mumble, looking through your texts again for the table number Dahyun texted you. “She’s a year younger, she told me.”

“Yeah, but Dahyun hung out with us a lot,” Minho explains, “she was pretty cool. Funny, too, I don’t know if she’s showed you her eagle dance yet?”

You laugh at that, turning onto the stairs. “She has, actually. Made me laugh instead of cry. I appreciate that about her.”

Dahyun’s easy enough to recognize; her hair’s bright blue among a sea of dark-haired people seated at the tables, and she’s a good head shorter than the people who sit around her. You rush up from behind her and wrap your arms around her neck, almost putting the girl in a headlock. “Y/N,” she complains, but there’s a smile on her face as she struggles against your grip. “Get off, I’m here to see your boy--”

Her smile instantly disappears when she sees Minho, but she rearranges it quick enough to bow to him. “Hi. I’m Kim Dahyun, Y/N’s cousin.”

So she wants to play like that. You give Dahyun another squeeze before sitting next to Minho on the other side of the table. “So, this is my boyfriend, Minho. What do you think?” you joke, keeping your tone as light as you can.

“He’s cute,” Dahyun answers. Usually, she’s good at keeping a hold of herself, but her voice sounds stifled this time, like she wants to lean over and punch him in the face or something. “I... Y/N, where’d you guys meet?”

Minho steps in to answer, “At where she works in the hospital. I keep dropping my friend off for PT, and I just keep seeing her.” That part’s true, at least, though you’re surprised at how charismatic and natural Minho seems while he lies. “She told me how she started working at the hospital downtown after being treated there, so I guess that’s how I never saw her before.”

Dahyun sighs, “Do you know what she was treated for?”

“Amnesia,” he frowns, “what else? Y/N told me that when we first met.”

A beat of silence passes, and you’re almost sure that Dahyun can see right through your lies, but your thoughts are cut off when she blurts out, “You’re lying, right? Minho, I don’t know if you’re lying to Y/N or if the both of you are lying to me, but you can’t be... you can’t be telling everything about this. She broke up with you years ago.”

“We all know that’s not true,” you say softly. Maybe there’s a hint of deadliness to your tone, though, because when you lean forward, Dahyun scoots back in her chair. “You told me my phone was dead on the day I woke up, the day that the texts were sent. How could I have sent those texts, from a shattered phone, without the contact that you wouldn’t tell me?”

The blue-haired girl presses her lips together, but she says, “Y/N, I don’t know what you’re accusing me of here.”

“No one’s accusing you of anything,” Minho shakes his head. “But we have to know. What happened here?”

Dahyun’s voice is almost too quiet to hear when she finally answers, “Minho, you would’ve been wrecked. And- letting her know that she would never be able to remember you... would’ve wrecked her more.”

You can’t keep your voice from getting louder when you ask, “So?” Minho squeezes your hand and you soften before saying again, “So? What did you do, Dahyun?”

“I texted him in place of you,” she blurts, clasping her hand over her mouth. Her eyes must reflect the hurt you feel, because you lash back when she reaches for you. “I... I never told you about Minho or any of your friends. I’m sorry, Y/N, I did what I thought was best, and all these years, I didn’t know... I didn’t know how I could fix that.”

Minho says nothing close to what you think he will, and he’s nowhere near as angry as you are. “I know why you did it, Dahyun,” he says. There are tears brimming in your cousin’s eyes, and you’re sure that Minho’s doing his best not to let them spill. “But- you knew me, knew Y/N. I don’t think you should’ve made that decision for us.”

“You definitely shouldn’t have,” you almost snap. You stand, tugging Minho up with you by his hand. “I... We have to go. I just need time to think, Dahyun.”

And if you were thinking rationally, you’d never leave like that. You’d never leave a conversation half-finished, with an angry end, but you can’t concentrate about anything other than the warmth of Minho’s hand in yours as you storm out of the restaurant.

Once you are hidden in an alleyway, he holds you by your elbows, as if he’s trying to stop you from running away. “Y/N,” he says softly, “look at me.”

When you do, you’re surprised at how blurry his face is, the shadows and highlights of his face swirled together in your tears. “We know now,” Minho continues. “I know you’re hurt right now, but I just want to say that you don’t have to know what to do now. You... we have time to think about what we can say about that information.”

“Stop,” you cry out, tearing your hands out of his grip to press them to your eyes. “Stop being so good to me. I know you only remember how much you loved the old me, and we have the same face, but we aren’t the same, Minho, you don’t love me. So- you don’t have to be so good to me just because you used to--”

He pulls you into a hug. It’s a bit aggressive, and you collide with him a little harder than you would in a normal hug, but against his chest, you can hear the sobs that he stifles in case anyone’s listening. “I’m not doing this because I used to love you, Y/N. I’m doing this because I think I can love you again.”

“That’s worse!” You push him away slightly, just enough to untangle yourself and your own heart. “Minho, that’s so much worse. You- you’ll never love me, you know. You’ll never stop seeing that Y/N in me. I just. I need to think.”

For the second time in that day, you end another conversation like you never would, but you keep your head down to hide the tear tracks on your face. There’s nothing you can say without hurting someone you seriously care about, no matter how much you wish you didn’t care about either of them.

You do. God, you do, and it hurts so much.

Jisung hobbles his own way into the lobby. He’s fast on his crutches, actually, and he almost doesn’t need you rushing to open the door for him. “Hey,” you smile, though you’re sure that your eyes are still puffy under your makeup. “Alone today?”

“Hyungs are all busy,” he pouts, though he obviously doesn’t really mind. “Y/N, have you checked your email recently?”

“Uh. No?” you answer, raising your eyebrows as you guide him down the hall. “Why? Did you send me something weird?”

He moves the crutch to smack the back of your leg, grinning even when you poke him as hard as you can without literally hurting him. “No. But there’s something in there I think you’ll want to see. I’ll see you in an hour, Y/N, hopefully.”

All of Jisung’s cryptic messages leave you scowling at the closed PT door, then frowning all the way back to your desk. You click fast through your inbox and ignore all the other messages for the one at the top, the one from j.one@naver.com, entitled ‘ywb’.

It’s a video message, and when you click on it, Jisung appears. “Hi, Y/N. I’ll keep this short,” he smiles through the screen. “But this message isn’t really from me. No matter what, I want you to watch the whole thing, can you promise me that?” You nod even though he’s in a whole different room, and he flashes a thumbs up like he can see it. “Cool. Enjoy, and try not to cry.”

The screen goes black, then flashes to a girl running through the snow. But she turns, and you gasp, because it’s you-- it’s a beanie and a scarf that you still own, sitting in your closet, but it’s a smile that you have only seen in pictures. And when you see the look in your eyes, you know who has to be behind the camera, and as much as you wish you wouldn’t, you’ve promised, and you keep watching.

Because every time that the outfit and the scene changes, your smile stays the same. You only see flashes of a hand, the peal of laughter under the soft music layered over, but you know. It has to be Minho, and you almost yearn to be the person in the videos again, grinning at him like there’s nothing else you can think of.

Slowly, he starts appearing in the video too, just flashes of the two of you singing at the top of your lungs in a karaoke booth, a short clip of you squirting him right in the face with a water gun. And the smile from the video makes its way onto your face, completely unconscious as you stare at the video.

Hours could’ve passed in minutes, and you wouldn’t have known, wouldn’t break from your trance until the screen goes dark again. But this time, Minho’s face appears, his features lit by a bright desk light in the darkness of his room. “Hi, Y/N,” he says softly, running his hands through his hair. “Thank you for watching this far. Uh... I just wanted to show you those videos. Because I just deleted them.”

He hums for a second before continuing, “I realized you were right. As long as I hold on to who you used to be, I’ll never be able to truly love you right now, even though I really want to. You aren’t the same person as you were, and even though you might not think so, I want to know you right now.”

Minho’s eyes curve sweetly when he reaches for the camera and fiddles with it. He smiles, “So if you can believe me, I want to take those videos again, with you this time. I’m more than willing-- no, I want nothing more than to get to know you again. So just... call me. Whenever you see this. I don’t really trust Jisung to get this to you in time.”

You manage to laugh through the blurriness in your eyes, but you’re already moving to pick up your phone when the video ends, Minho’s hand the last thing you see on the screen. “Hello?”

“Hey.” You can hear something in the background, probably the other people in his studio, but they get quieter as Minho talks. “I guess you watched it?”

“I watched it.” You save the video to the drive always plugged into the laptop, but there’s a small smile on your face as you imagine Minho staring into the mirror of the dance room as he talks to you. “How fast can you get here?”

“Uh. It takes 5 minutes to drive to you, so you can expect me in 10,” he answers. The smile on his face is audible, and your own grin grows when he covers the mic to shout at someone. “I won’t look gross, promise. But, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” 

He ends the call before you can say anything in return, but you smile at the phone screen all the way until you poke your head around the corner to shout at Seulgi. “Hey! I’m clocking out in 10!” Maybe the grin in the video is familiar after all as you reach for your bag.

While you’ll never get your past back, there’s always the future. You will never get the perfectly fresh start you want, but it’s a start nonetheless. It’s the step towards something new that you’ve been needing, and it’s with the person that you never thought you’d find again.

[undercoveravenger]

Under Your Skin

Creature Week 2020: Day Four

Pairing: Gil x Selkie!Male!Reader

Request: “Gil from Descendants with a selkie male reader who keeps visiting the Isle?”

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

The first time that Gil had seen the seal he had been pretty young, only eight or nine years old. He’d been hiding on the beach under the old docks, since he knew that his brothers and father would give him hell if they caught him crying again. His mother told him it was because he had a kind heart, but Harry had always just said it was because he was a crybaby. He’d tried to not let it ever get to him because even a grumpy friend was better than none at all in his childish mind, but some days the brunet’s words really weighed on him.

Which was why he was curled up under the docks on his own, wiping away tears with chubby hands and sniffling away sobs as he tried to figure out why he was just so different from his older brothers.

He was startled from his reverie by the sound of a splash and a quiet barking sound. His eyebrows furrowed and he scrubbed a hand across his face as he looked down at the small seal pup staring up at him. “What do you want?” he muttered petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Go away. I don’t have any fish for you.”

The seal had merely barked up at him, splashing its way out of the shallow waves and up the small stretch of rocky beach until it was sitting in front of him, placing one little flipper against his leg.

“What?” He had asked, feeling kind of dumb as he looked down into the seal’s wide (e/c) eyes. It was an animal; he knew it couldn’t understand him.

Nevertheless, the seal had let out a quiet groaning noise and shifted onto one side so it could put a flipper over its face. It only rested it there for a moment before straightening up again and staring pointedly up at Gil.

The blond had rolled his eyes, but swiped at his eyes anyway, surprised to find that he must have stopped crying without realizing it.

The seal let out a pleased bark, nudged its head against Gil’s leg and then turned and flopped its way back into the sea.

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

Gil could recall a few other times that he had encountered the strange seal through the years, but it mostly appeared when he was hiding out under the dock. Once it had appeared when he was on Uma’s ship after she won it from Harry’s father. Harry had given him a strange look when he had waved down at the small spotted creature, muttering under his breath about selkies invading their waters.

The blond had been understandably confused, tearing his gaze away from his little seal friend to look at the brunet. “What’s a selkie?”

Harry pulled a face, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared down at the seal playing in the waves. “There was a group of ‘em that lived near Neverland accordin’ to my dad. Beautiful ladies and gents tha’ could turn into seals when they wore their sealskins. My dad used to tell me about men he knew that’d take their skins and hide ‘em in order to keep the selkies as their wives. As soon as the creatures found their skins though, they’d be back at sea and the men who loved them would never see them again.”

“Why would they do that though? If the men loved them, why wouldn’t they let it be the selkie’s choice?” He found his gaze trailing back to the pinniped, watching in awe as it danced gracefully through the waves. 

Harry had shrugged, “They were still wild animals.” He placed a hand on Gil’s shoulder, “Look, mate, don’t go chasin’ after any selkies, yeah? I don’t want to see your heart get broken by some stupid seal.”

“Yeah,” Gil had mumbled quietly, knowing it was easier to agree with Harry than to disagree. “Stupid.”

He’d been haunted by the betrayed look in the seal’s eyes in the years following, in which the seal seemed to have chosen to remain unseen, even when he visited his old hiding spot under the pier.

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

Years passed and the seal had all but vanished from his thoughts; the strange encounters slipping away as he grew up, the crew and his classes at Dragon Hall taking up his spare time. He was working a spare shift at Ursula’s Fish and Chips as a favor to Uma when it all came crashing back.

The blond wandered over to a table with a stranger sitting at it, his legs kicked up on the chair across from him and an oddly patterned leather jacket slung over the back of the chair next to him. “What can I get started for you tonight?” Gil asked, grinning brightly as he got ready to write down the (h/c)’s order on the notepad he’d brought over.

The stranger looked up from his menu when he heard Gil speak, a faint grin causing the corners of his mouth to quirk upward. “The special, please.”

The blond didn’t even realize that he had spoken, too surprised by the familiarity of the stranger’s warm (e/c) eyes. Gil was certain that he had never seen the stranger before, but his eyes were practically identical to those of the baby seal from all those years ago.

“Hey, are you alright?” The stranger asked, standing and putting a steadying hand on Gil’s shoulder. “You seem a little out of it.”

He nodded slowly, shaking off his previous stupor. He was sure it was nothing more than a coincidence. “Yeah, um, the special, right? I’ll get right on that.” Without even waiting for him to confirm his order, Gil took off, weaving his way back toward the kitchen so at least he could get a brief respite.

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

“The hell’s wrong with you?” Harry snapped as he strode through the swinging door into the kitchen after his friend, “Table six has been waitin’ on their food for-” he cut himself off as he took in Gil’s frazzled state. “Gil, mate, are you okay?”

The blond looked startled at his friend’s sudden appearance, seeming to almost physically force himself out of his thoughts. “I- yeah, totally great.” He forced a smile but Harry didn’t seem convinced.

“What's got you even more out of it than normal?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gil shook his head, hurrying to load the food he’d been meant to take to a table onto a tray. “Nothing, just- I saw the guy at Table Ten and he looked really familiar, is all.”

Harry’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Table Ten?” He rolled his eyes as Gil nodded distractedly, turning to peer through the narrow window that looked out into the dining room. “There’s no one there, just some manky old jacket.”

“What?” Gil asked, visibly baffled as he moved to verify what his friend had told him, “But he was just-?”

The brunet rolled his eyes, snatching the tray from Gil, “Go.”

Gil looked up at him with wide eyes and Harry nodded toward the abandoned jacket, “You said you might know ‘im, right? Go take that jacket and use it as an excuse to find out. I can handle things here, just be careful, yeah?”

While he was stunned that Harry was so encouraging for him to go looking for someone he might not even know, Gil took advantage of it, throwing his apron on the back counter and hurrying out to grab the jacket that the (h/c) had left behind before running out of the restaurant.

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

Gil wasn’t sure how exactly he knew where to find you, but as he came to a stop under the old pier where he used to hide as a kid he wasn’t surprised to see you sitting at the water’s edge, staring out over the breaking waves.

“You, um, you left this at the restaurant,” he called, slowly picking his way across the rocky shore toward you.

You didn’t even startle at the sound of his voice, which made Gil wonder if you had left the jacket behind on purpose. There was an odd look in your eye as he sat down beside you. “You actually brought it back to me?”

“Yeah?” Gil asked, confused by the incredulous look in your eyes. He turned his gaze down to the coat in his lap. From far away, the jacket had seemed almost black in color, but from this close he could tell that it was actually a dark grey, dappled with even darker spots in a seemingly random pattern. It was incredibly soft and Gil almost didn’t want to let go of it. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You let out a disbelieving snort, turning back to look over the water. “A lot of people wouldn’t, if they knew what it was.”

“They wouldn’t give it back if they knew it was a jacket?” Gil was definitely confused.

The sound of your laughter made Gil grin, even if he wasn’t exactly sure what was so funny. “Something like that.” You chuckled, eyes twinkling mischievously. You bit your lip, turning to look at Gil suddenly, “Y’know, I used to come here a lot when I was younger.”

“Really?” The blond gasped, “Me too! This was where I’d come to be alone.” He grinned sheepishly, pushing his hair back out of his eyes.

“I know,” you said, smile fading a little at the obvious confusion on the blond’s face. “I was there.”

Gil shook his head, brows furrowing close over his azure eyes, “No, I was always alone. Except for when this little seal-” he cut himself off, voice trailing off as his gaze dropped to the jacket in his lap. Now that he looked closer, he could tell that the jacket wasn’t leather at all and the spots almost looked like the ones that had been on that little seal all those years ago. He shook his head, eyes finding yours quickly, “No, it’s not possible-”

“Isn’t it?” You cocked your head, nodding in the direction of the Chip Shop, “Your friend certainly seemed to believe in selkies. Or he used to, at least. I had hoped he’d convince you to believe the same before I came back.”

Gil’s eyes darted between you and what must’ve been your sealskin. “If you’re telling the truth, then why did you leave this behind? Anyone could’ve taken it and then you would’ve been trapped on land forever.”

You laughed, grinning fondly at the pirate, “I knew you wouldn’t let someone else take it. Not after the way you reacted to seeing me again, even if you didn’t know it was me yet.”

“Why did you…?” Gil started, though his voice failed him before he could ask what had been weighing on him.

“What, leave?” When Gil nodded, you sighed, but chose to answer him anyway. “I had to. I had just about gotten old enough to learn how to change forms, so my family and I had to go away until they were sure I could control it. And what you said on that ship had hurt. I had thought you’d realized that I wasn’t going to hurt you; that I wanted to be friends.” You shrugged, casting your gaze back out to the horizon, “I still do.”

Gil swallowed, trailing his fingers lightly over the dappled spots on your jacket as he thought about what you had told him. “I want that too.” He bit his lip nervously, “And I’m sorry about what I said back then; I didn’t know.”

You waved off his apologies, grinning wryly, “I couldn’t have expected you to. It’s not like I could tell you. But let’s start over, yeah?” You turned to face him, holding out your hand, “I’m (M/N), and I can turn into a seal.”

The blond laughed but shook your hand anyway, “I’m Gil.” He grinned nervously, “And I happen to really like a guy that can turn into a seal.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, twisting your hand in his so you could interlock your fingers. “Well, that’s sure convenient, isn’t it?”

Gil ducked his head to try and hide the blush dusting his cheeks but jolted a little when his gaze fell back to the jacket in his lap. He was quick to offer it to you, though he couldn’t bring himself to let go of it immediately, “How do I know you won’t leave again?”

You grinned at him, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips as you took your sealskin back, “Don’t worry, even if I do have to go, I’ll always come back for you.”

[maybankiara]

TELL ME, IS IT WORTH IT?

pairing: JJ Maybank x Pope Heyward

summary: Pope proposes, JJ panics, and now he’s trying to explain why he said no (and why he shouldn’t have done it.)

w/c: 3.7k

a/n: angst with a happy ending, ignore all the typos bc this is entirely unedited (i might edit in the future)

masterlist | tag list

read on archive of our own

It’s really unfair that when someone’s life falls apart, the world itself doesn’t. JJ thinks it should. It should be raining knives, hailing bullets, volcanoes should be exploding and the ground shaking shouldn’t be just his personal experience of reality. 

But it’s not even a moderately hot day. It’s breezy, it’s perfect, and it’s one of the nicest days of the fucking whole year. 

JJ hates it. 

The Chateau has only got John B and Kiara under its roof when he barges in, teeth gripping on the cap of a beer bottle. ‘Don’t ask,’ he states, then drops in the empty space between the two on the couch. His legs find their home on the coffee table and he nearly downs the bottle. Burps. Sighs, dramatically. 

He knows they’re exchanging glances, but he chooses to ignore it. 

Kie’s consoling hand lands on his shoulder. ‘What ha—’

‘Pope asked me to marry him,’ he says, ‘and I said no. And I also said I think it’s never going to happen.’

John B should’ve made a dumb comment. Kie should’ve made a sarcastic remark. But they didn’t, and they won’t, because JJ feels the gravity of the situation weighting down his lungs. (It feels like being torn up inside out, like his heart is chewing on itself out of anger, or sadness, or betrayal. It feels like the moment when your heart skips a beat and you think this is it, this is how I die, except you don’t; except you’re stuck in that moment forever.)

JJ burps. It chips at the silence, but it doesn’t break it. Kie’s hand on his shoulder is frozen and the distance between him and John B seems like an ocean. 

‘Yeah,’ says JJ. ‘I don’t think that was what he expected.’

A sigh comes from Kie, but he doesn’t look. ‘When was this?’

‘About twenty minutes ago. I drove straight here.’

‘Drunk?’ asks John B. 

‘Does it matter? I’m here now. Safe and sound.’ He lets out a dry chuckle before he can stop himself, and shakes his head. ‘Physically, anyway.’

‘You’re not drunk,’ says Kie. It sounds a little like a scoff, so JJ looks at her, but he can’t figure out what her face is saying. Tight lips scream anger, but her eyes are soft as ever, maybe a little concerned. She glances between him and John B with one of her eyebrows slightly raised. ‘He’s a heartbroken idiot, but not drunk.’

‘Ah. Understandable. Should I—’

‘You know what being a heartbroken idiot means.’ Kie pushes herself off the couch and when JJ glances at his other friend, John B’s just as confused as he is. ‘I know a thing or two about getting your heart broken for a dumb reason. You two sort that out, and I’ll make sure Pope’s okay. Let me know when you’ve knocked some sense into him.’

Before either of the boys manage to comprehend her words, she’s out the door. The Kie-shaped void on JJ’s left side feels a little odd, so he pushes himself into that side of the couch. The beer is bitter at the back of his throat; he wishes some music would be playing. 

John B calls his name, so JJ looks at him. He’s giving him the puppy eyes, trying to get him to talk, and it’s because neither of them really know how to start. (Their affection is physical, not verbal. Kie’s the one who’s good at that. Pope is—)

‘Did you panic?’ asks John B. 

JJ shakes his head. ‘Don’t think so. Not until after I’ve said it, anyway.’

‘So what happened?’

There’s a pause, JJ feels his brow furrow, and then: ‘I don’t know.’

‘…you don’t know?’

‘No.’

‘So you panicked.’

‘No, I didn’t, it’s—’ With a sigh, JJ accepts the momentary defeat. He glances over and sees John B’s signature stare full of indecipherable intent, but nothing less than pure kindness. They’ve had their bumps, but they always came out on top. It’s the pogue way. Even if John B wears that stupid bandanna around his neck well into his married life of his late twenties. ‘I knew the answer was no.’

It’s John B’s turn to frown. ‘You’ve thought about it?’

‘No, I just knew. Like you know the ocean is salty.’

‘You know that because you’ve tasted it before,’ counters John B. ‘I doubt you’ve been proposed to before.’

‘I could’ve been!’ 

All John B offers is a long stare yet that is enough. He’s older by only a few months, but he’s also married and didn’t say no to the proposal (granted, it was him proposing to Sarah, but still) and kind of has got his life together. He’s still JJ’s dumb older brother, but he knows something JJ doesn’t. 

‘How did you know you wanted to marry Sarah?’ 

‘Are you reconsidering your answer?’

‘No, I just—’ JJ sighs again and tries to wish another bottle into appearing in his hand. Doesn’t work. Probably for the better. He just leans his head back on the couch and stares at the ceiling, connecting the dots in his mind. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing. I just want you to tell me how you knew.’

He hears shuffling, and then feels John B’s feet in his lap. (He’s not going to comment on the boat shoes. There’s been enough deflecting. He’s got to listen, because Pope is threatening to burst into the forefront of his mind any second now.)

John B gives out the deep, heavy sigh that only comes with a slight aah whenever he’s about to tell a story. ‘When we were young, she made everything come alive. Everything looked brighter and clearer, and it was like I could finally breathe with the entirety of my lungs.’

JJ closes his eyes, trying not to gag. ‘Bro. I’m not listening to that.’

‘But that’s how I knew!’ He could just hear the grouch in his friend’s voice and now he’s threading the fine line between laughing and gagging. ‘Seriously, JJ, you asked. I don’t— I don’t know what to say. I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough.’

‘I am.’

‘No, you’re not. You’re deflecting.’

‘Big word.’

‘See?’ John B scrunches his nose, shaking his head. His thumb and index finger grip the bridge of his nose. ‘I know you’re confused. And scared. I know you panicked when Pope asked, but I don’t think you understand how horrible is the thing you’ve done.’

‘It’s not like I broke his heart,’ scoffs JJ, but the words are flat and his heart skips another beat. He doesn’t need to look at John B to knows he’s got his head in his hands. ‘C’mon, it’s Pope. He’s tougher than he looks.’

‘Yes, but he proposed, JJ. He asked to spend the rest of his life with you and you said no!’

‘I didn’t say no to that!’ JJ flings himself off the couch and now he’s pacing around the living room of the Chateau, marching circles around the coffee table. His forehead is pulsating; he’s probably having a heart attack. That’d explain a lot. ‘I said no to getting married.’

‘That’s the same thing.’

‘It isn’t.’

‘It is.’

‘It really isn’t, John B,’ he spits out. Christ, he’s getting hot. Is that his blood boiling? ‘Marriage is… It’s taxes. It’s prenups. It’s joint bank accounts, it’s added tension, it’s fucked up. Half of the marriages don’t even last.’

(Pope’s always talked about getting married. When gay marriage was legalised, before they were together, before they were out of the closet, even then he was openly delighted about it. He’s been talking about the two of them getting married for a while now, or at least hinting at it. 

He should’ve expected it. It didn’t come out of the blue. He saw the signs, just ignored them, because… because…)

‘If you’re scared marriage is going to ruin your relationship, JJ, I’ll have you know you’ve already done that yourself.’ 

This is about the point where everything just… It comes crashing down. The world does end the way JJ wanted it to. 

He feels himself growing very, very still, like when he was younger and his father raised a hand. He feels his breath halting in his throat and ears tuning out all sound, repeating John B’s words over and over until the echo became the echo of itself. He could feel the ground opening beneath him despite not moving an inch. 

When gravity drags you down to earth, your rose-tinted glasses shatter like porcelain. 

He sees Pope’s face of shock, then laughter, then embarrassment and betrayal at once, once he’s realised JJ isn’t joking. He sees him get up from his knees, hands shaking as JJ fumbles over his words, unable to find an explanation or an excuse. He feels cold sweat breaking out on his forehead, blood turning to ice in his hands. He sees his mum leaving, his dad’s hand raised; he sees people arguing and JJ wants to cover his ears. He sees himself, alone, alone, alone. 

And he sees Pope turning his back to him. Quietly. He doesn’t even argue back. Just takes the no and i’m sorry, i can’t do this, it’s never going to happen, not like this and doesn’t say a word. Just walks away. 

It’d be easier if he screamed at JJ. At least he’d know how to deal with that. 

Pope’s heartbreak is the quiet kind, the one that doesn’t ask for attention, just the opposite. Usually JJ’s there to hold his hand, to sit by his side until Pope’s ready to talk about it, or be somewhere around, far enough so that Pope deals with things himself, but close enough so that he’s there if he’s needed. He’s never been the reason for the quiet. 

Fire replaces the ice. JJ feels like the sun itself is tearing him open. 

‘Shit,’ he says. ‘Fuck.’ Then raises his eyes until he meets John B’s, blurry and barely visible. ‘I fucked up.’

He doesn’t realise he’s shaking until his knees buckle under his weight and he stumbles to find his footing. John B shoots from the couch and pulls him into a hug, wrapping his arms around him so tight JJ couldn’t have escaped if he wanted to. He didn’t. He wanted to be held, even if by a friend. 

He doesn’t sob because the sob gets caught in his throat, too, but he lets out a cough that says all the same. ‘It would’ve been easier if you yelled at me.’

‘I know.’ John B pats his back, letting JJ rest his weight unto him. ‘Pope will understand. That’s why Kie went to talk to him. As long as you realise you’re hurting everyone by being an idiot, you can make it better.’

‘I thought—’ He stops, because his words get fumbled again, and now he’s pressing his eyes into his friend’s shoulder like he’s all he’s got. ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone again.’

‘You’re not going to, okay? Just… Marriage is not all taxes, and you gotta understand that. It’s about knowing that if they get hurt, you’ll be allowed to see them. That you can get a house together, that you can look after each other if something goes wrong. That what you have is there to stay. Think of it as a promise.’

JJ snorts, but he doesn’t let go. ‘I don’t do well with people promising things to me.’

‘Then promise it to yourself,’ counters John B. The way he puts it makes it sound it’s as easy as breathing – JJ wishes he could feel the same. ‘Promise to stay with him. Promise to be around if something bad happens, but if something good happens, too. That’s what marriage is.’

‘I already promised that,’ he says. ‘His future and mine are the same.’

‘Then what’s the problem? Marriage is just making it legal. Making it formal. When what you have is honest and true, it doesn’t change anything. It just makes things better.’

JJ pulls out, feeling confident he can stand on his own two feet. He still feels a little lightheaded, but the thought of Pope possibly thinking that spending the rest of their lives together is the last thing JJ would want… That is the last thing JJ would want. Pope hurting because of him. 

JJ can’t afford to be scared anymore; living a life half-way ready to run is not living. 

He checks his phone; it must’ve chimed at some point because there’s texts from Kie, telling him where she is with Pope. His heart skips another beat, and at this point he thinks he could have enough heartbeats for a whole new person just from the ones he missed. 

He’s not dying today. He’s not dying before he gets to live the future he’s almost ripped out of his own hands. 

When he looks up at John B, he feels the hint of a weary smile on his lips. ‘I think I’ve got a promise to make.’

—

It shouldn’t be a surprise JJ finds them at the Boneyard, yet it’s still quite odd to see the scenario he’s seen a million times – Kie sitting next to the sea with her feet dipped into water as her fingers splash at the waves just about reaching her, and Pope… Pope sitting on the half-dunked log that’s been here forever, with his feet bare but not quite touching the water. His head is hung low and JJ can see the strain in his shoulders even from halfway across the beach; the cap is sitting on his lap, unused, despite the sun high above their heads. 

The sight tugs at his heart and he falters in his step, but John B’s firm hand on his back encourages him forward. JJ gives a slight nod; he’s not giving up on the courage. 

It’s Pope who notices them first and he stiffens even more; JJ sees Kie pat his knee before turning around and waving at them, then saying something to Pope. JJ wishes the wind would carry her words to him – is it encouragement or telling Pope he’s better off without someone who panics and refuses the one thing they’ve always longed for?

‘Don’t.’ John B pats him on the back. ‘I see you doing your dumb thought thing.’

JJ opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it was that he meant to say, it’s gone forever. All he can do is try and keep his shoulders from slumping and hands from forming fists; he can’t allow himself to be angry at the world, or himself. 

The sand creaks underneath his feet. He hates it in this moment, because it makes him aware of every step he’s got to take to get to Pope, and the steps drag into eternity. 

Pope locks their eyes. JJ tries figuring him out, but he’s too far, and Pope’s too guarded. 

(Not against me, Pope. Please. Not against me.)

When they get there, JJ feels like fainting, but he sets his foot firmly on the ground. He’s not escaping. 

‘Hey,’ greets Kie, and John B returns the greeting. The feuded lovers stay silent, just taking each other in. 

(JJ always wished he could paint. The lines of Pope’s face are shaped as if they were meant to withstand centuries instead of being washed away with age. He wishes he could offer to Pope more than just… himself.

He’s talked about this with Pope before, though. Feeling inferior to his boyfriend was always going to be JJ’s Achilles’ heel, yet he didn’t think it would come to this. He made another promise, ages ago – to try to see himself the way Pope sees him. The way other people see him. 

To believe in himself the way he believes in other people, for once.)

The silence is heavy, but JJ forces himself to not see it that way. Instead, he looks over to Kie, to John B, and says: ‘Can you guys give us a second?’

There’s nods and then they’re off, with nothing between the couple aside from waves crashing into the shore. Pope’s head is hung and shoulders slumped, and he’s sitting on this log with one foot pulled up and resting on it, the other hanging in the water now. JJ’s fingers ache to reach across for his, but he tells himself it’s not the time. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘Marriage scares me. I don’t know one that worked out, aside from John B and Sarah. I was raised to be on my own. Marriage means not being alone and that scared me, until I realised that… I haven’t been alone for a while now. The pogues, you… Nobody’s going anywhere. And if marriage is just a way to promise to you that I’m not going anywhere, either, and if it means so much to you, then I say let’s do it. I got scared, but never for a second did a life without you cross my mind. It’s — That’s my nightmare, Pope. Your future and mine are the same. Where you go, I follow. That’s the way things are.’

For a long time, it was JJ trying to come to terms with loving Pope – then it was Pope coming to terms with loving JJ. They’ve always loved each other, in a way, without quite saying it. It has never been the kind of love that is shouted from the rooftops – it’s the helping hand, the whispers of i got this, or you’re not alone in this, or i wish you could see yourself the way i see you. It’s the kind of love that’s etched into the air around them, existing as a part of themselves rather than something external. They’ve grown into it, shaped their lives around it.

It’s always been the beach for them. Their first kiss when they were seventeen, their first fight, their first promise to stick together through thick and thin. Every time something happened, something that mattered, etched itself into the back of JJ’s mind like the sound of his mother’s voice, it was always accompanied by the sound of waves on the shore; by the wind howling over the bay. It was always people chatting in the distance, or some music playing from a half-working speaker. It was always them, in the midst of other people’s lives. 

Pope proposed in their flat. 

When JJ drops to his knees, he doesn’t do his dumb thought thing. He doesn’t even think about it – for once, his gut isn’t telling him to run, but stay. ‘Pope Heyward.’

‘JJ—’

‘Can you let me do this?’ asks JJ. He laughs a little, shakes his head, and tries not to think about how ridiculous this looks. ‘I know I already had a monologue, but I don’t think I got my point across.’

Pope shakes his head, too; he isn’t smiling, but his eyes aren’t as strained anymore. ‘It’s okay, you don’t have to—’

‘I want to. I want this, okay? I want you to hear it.’

He can see Pope’s Adam’s apple bob, and he can see his shoulders slump in a relaxed way. The lines around his eyes soften and his lips nearly turn upwards, just a little bit. A little twitch is enough to shoot electricity to JJ’s heart. 

‘Pope, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life saying it to you. You’re my best friend, my boyfriend, and my fiancee, if you’ll have me after the shit I pulled today. Husband, then. Father of your children, because I know it’s what you’ve always wanted, and I want it, too. Whatever you’ll be, I’ll be by your side. It’s all I want. No matter what our status is, we’re always Pope and JJ. We’re always just us. And I really haven’t thought out what I’d say next because—’

Pope’s lips crash into JJ’s, his hands grasping at JJ’s face, and world pulls itself together again. When they part their foreheads lean against one another, and he can feel Pope’s breath on his lips, and he feels his hands burning on the small of Pope’s back, and he can breathe and breathe and breathe like his lungs have never worked properly before. 

(He understands John B now. Not like he’d ever admit it to him.)

He lets out a chuckle, and then he’s kissing Pope again – a small, chaste kiss, just to feel the softness of the touch. His fingers grip the back of Pope’s flannel and he’s laughing into the kiss. 

‘You’re an idiot,’ says Pope. ‘I should break up with you.’

‘Can’t. I’m too irresistible.’

‘Shut up. You’re cheesy. That entire speech would put John B to shame.’ 

JJ shakes his head again and then his thumb is tracing the line of Pope’s jaw, eyes transfixed by his lips. He almost lost this. He almost gave up everything out of fear after promising to never doing it again. (He’s making a vow, this time. It holds more weight.) ‘You loved that speech.’

Pope rolls his eyes, in the way that tells JJ he’s right. ‘Kie told me you were freaking out at the Chateau.’

‘I was,’ admits JJ. What’s the point of holding back the truth? ‘I was freaked out of my mind. I thought I’d ruined everything.’

‘You forget how well I know you, JJ. I was hurt, but I knew you would come back. Old you would run, but Kie came and said you’re at the Chateau, and you wouldn’t have gone there if you meant to run.’

‘I couldn’t ever run from you.’

‘You better.’

JJ rolls his eyes at the teasing tone in Pope’s voice, then pulls him in for a hug. It’s not long until Pope buries his face in JJ’s shoulder, and JJ kisses the side of his head. ‘I do want to marry you, if you’ll have me.’

There’s a pause and JJ feels Pope chuckle against his neck, shivering a little. ‘What is it that you said? My future and yours are the same? That better be in your vows, John B.’

‘Shut up.’ JJ feels himself burning, neck up this time, and tries to laugh it off. ‘I get to be cheesy once.’

‘Just save it for the wedding. I’d like to hear it again.’

JJ angles his body so there’s some space between them; he doesn’t hesitate before planting another kiss on Pope’s lips, reveling in the ease of movement. This is what coming home feels like, and if this is what future has in store for him, who is he to complain?