#and I used to blindly believe everything I heard on tv too especially back in 2014 when it also escalated violently
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ok im boutta rant so hard. so honestly the reaction of people (or sometimes lack thereof) to the recent events between palestine and israel is so telling⌠so many people even in my own surroundings are so ignorant and stupid and one-sided. being in support of a free independent palestine and still acknowledging the ongoing nearly daily mistreatments of Palestinian people by the IDF in the gaza strip west bank etc. even now after those recent horrible attacks on israel (which are not condonable or justifiable ever to me) does not make you a âterror sympathizerâ or even âanti-semiticâ like be so for real. this is exactly what the western media has been trying to make people believe for all those past years and theyâre doing it again now and using it for propaganda- which is why itâs so important to ALSO get updates from Palestinian sources (I use eye.on.palestine and theimeu and byplestia on insta since getting back from the trip and actually learning about the situation in 2020 and they are doing educational work on top of news too but beware it also contains uncensored extremely disturbing footage that a lot of western media just casually completely refuses to report about). Itâs this complete disregard and erasure of Palestinian struggles for the past nearly eight decades and history under israeli occupation. The complete justification of the counterattack and pledges of unwavering solidarity in the big western newspapers without telling the whole story NEUTRALLY. Like what Iâve read in newspaper articles in the past days is actually SCARY bc it sounds like absolute brainwashing and is not neutral truthful reporting at all. I will say it as it is I donât give a flying fuck about any of those violent colonialist settlers losing their lives. I also dont give a shit about any violent hamas member who killed an israeli civilian involved bc they are just as racist and evil. Scum like that needs to be wiped off the earth so that maybe one day this place really can find a solution in peace. And I really do wish that for Palestinian AND Israeli people, for Jewish AND Muslim people. Iâm so sorry for all the innocent lives lost who get caught in the crossfire but you also canât tell me, and Iâve literally read this today in a big newspaper that I quote âisraeli forces will do anything to protect Palestinian civilian livesâ bc it doesnât line up at all with the footage shared from targeted regions in Gaza and that âPalestinian terrorists will use their children as shields and then cry into cameras and we cannot show sympathy for themâ when all Iâve seen are traumatized mothers or fathers who couldnât even walk or stand up straight bc they were crying so hard. Itâs inhuman to not show empathy like hello? I canât believe this is actually what theyâre printing and people are buying into it bc they think this is the right and political correct thing to do.
Also donât forget about the fact Israel has one of the top high tech modern military forces in the world. Israel has iron dome and davidâs sling (and thank god they do bc it does prevent more senseless deaths) which are highly advanced air defense systems which are said to have a catch rate of 90%. they are not catching and preventing ALL missiles from hitting sadly but A LOT of them. however when israeli military fires missiles on gaza, they KNOW for sure they WILL hit. Even if they apparently give âwarningsâ to the population before starting an attack. In Gaza at least 900 civilians have already died in in the last 3 days, reportedly half of whom are women and children. Please think about them too when you mourn the victims, even if their pictures are not shown in the newspapers.
#Roger Waters is also always dubbed anti semitic for speaking out#and I used to blindly believe everything I heard on tv too especially back in 2014 when it also escalated violently#it literally took me winning an educational trip there on a fucking TOMBOLA and seeing stuff first hand to also see the other side#i also Read today shani louk is apparently in critical condition but ALIVE in a Gaza hospital#and Iâm so damn glad but if they keep bombing it the way they do she still wont come home#free palestine#palestine
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Jean heard cloth rustle as Nathaniel stood, but as soon as Nathaniel stepped away Jean blindly reached out for him. He barely recognized his own voice when he said, âNeil,â but it was enough the other man stopped. Jeanâs fingertips finally found denim, but he didnât try to get a good grip on the other man. âIt was a good game.â âYes,â Neil Josten said, with a smile in his voice. âIt was, wasnât it?â
The door creaked faintly as it opened and clicked even quieter when it closed again. Jean focused on the feel of Reneeâs heartbeat and counted his breaths until it didnât hurt so much to be alive.
They looked ridiculous and mismatched. They looked bright and alive and carefree, like theyâd somehow forgotten everything that made them qualify for the Fox line-up.
âIt is refreshing only to you. I have had to put up with it for as long as I have known him. He is a fool. âExy as it is meant to be playedâ,â he said, sharp with mockery. âHe would wither away if he was on their lineup; he is too ill-tempered to survive a day on their court.â
âSmall talk is a pointless indulgence.â âI like to indulge,â Jeremy said with a dimpled smile. Kevinâs words mocked him in the back of his thoughts: âSome of them you like.â Jean cut off that line of thinking so fast he felt dizzy. It didnât matter that Jeremy Knox was annoyingly easy to look at; Jean knew better than to look at another man too long. Heâd learned that lesson the hard way and would not survive a revisit.
Ravens werenât meant to be alone, and with Nathaniel here now he could feel just how worn away he was despite the Foxesâ attempt to always keep another body in the house with him. Nathaniel was different; he always would be. He wasnât a Raven, but he was, same as Jean. He was Jeanâs misplaced forever partner, an unfulfilled promise Jean had stopped believing in years ago.
âNo, Iâm angry,â Kevin said. Jean searched for the lie in his careless dismissal, but Kevin was too good an actor to give away the game. âI am tired of being called second when I am better than he will ever be. Tonight theyâll see how wrong they were about us.â
âHe hasnât played a clean game in years,â Kevin admitted, âbut he knows how to follow orders. If you tell him to submit, he will.â âLiterally the most awkward way you couldâve worded it,â Jeremy said. He meant to lighten the mood, but Kevin only shrugged and said, âYouâll understand when you meet him.â
if Jean signed something that said he had to behave to be allowed to stay on the lineup, he could bite his tongue and stay his fists. Itâd piss him off beyond the telling, but he could follow orders if it meant surviving another day. Without that black-and-white command his nature would get the better of him sooner or later, and then thereâd be no saving him. Theyâd yank him from the lineup to save themselves and heâd be as good as dead.
but joining the Raven lineup at sixteen had been a living nightmare. Theyâd all been so much bigger and stronger than he was; heâd had to rely on simply being better. Getting shown up by a child had not endeared them at all to him, especially when heâd spent a week climbing into bed with them. If not for Zane, Jeanâs freshman year would have been significantly uglier, he was sure.
âIâm sorry,â Kevin said quietly. He held out his hand. Jean glowered at him for a moment, but Kevin was willing to outwait him. Finally Jean relaxed his grip and set his hand in Kevinâs, palm-up. Kevin curled his fingers gently around it so he could turn Jeanâs arm this way and that. Jean didnât want to face those bruises and scabs again, so he pointed his stare past Kevin at the dark TV. Kevin tapped Jeanâs fingers in a silent command, and Jean made a fist in response. It hurt like hell, but he could do it. Kevin sighed, exhaustion or relief.
âYou did this to us,â Jean accused him as Kevin finally pried his hands away from his face. âYou should have beat this wildness out of him once you learned his name.â âI couldnât,â was the weary response. âEveryone who has tried to tame him has failed.
Kevin caught hold of his face with both hands, forcing Jean to look at him when Jean tried to turn away. âBreathe,â Kevin said, from a thousand miles away.
âYou have a choice,â Jean insisted. âKill me and let me be done with this.â Kevinâs expression was forbidding. âYou made me a promise.â âFuck you. You have no right to hold me to it.â âBut I will.â Kevin stared him down, and Jean hated, hated that he was the first to look away.
âHe wanted to know why Kevin ran and I didnât,â Jean said, swallowing his pills with some water. He should have left it there, but Jean turned his glass over and over between his fingers. âRikoâs father gave him up as soon as he was born, uninterested in a second-born son. Mine didnât hesitate to sell me off if it meant his debts were squared away. Despite that, Kevin never once doubted youâd take him in. He wasnât foolish enough to say as much where Riko could hear him, but he said it to me. I laughed at him. Iâd never taken him for a dreamer.â
âYou have twenty-one good ribs,â Thea said. âFor now.â There was a fifty-percent chance she was bluffing, but Jean tilted toward her anyway and said, âDo it, then. It wouldnât take much; we all know I have brittle bones.â
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Fries Meet Guys: ALEX HĂGH ANDERSEN - I DIDN'T THINK I WAS A PERSON WHO SHOULD TALK ABOUT ANXIETY - Part One: Childhood, Parenting, Socializing
Just a couple words about this work of labor, thank you to everyone who encouraged me, helped me and believed in this translation project. Some parts were more hard than others to make sense of, I appreciate some input if you feel so inclined. It will be posted in five parts, weekly. I really did my very best. Enjoy!
Taglist: @ivarsrideordie
We invited you to the studio today, because we would like to be a little wiser about what it means to be a man and what it means to be a man to you. But for a start, we just have some classic questions. What's your name? How old are you?
Hi, my name is Alex. I'll be 25 this summer, I was born in '94. I come from a small town called SkÌlskør in West Jutland.
What is your profession?
I am an autodidact actor.
And what is your favorite song?
All the songs by Frank Ocean.
What's your favorite movie?
I simply can't answer that. But I talked to a friend today, we watched In Bruges, a movie with Colin Farrell and it was fucking fun.
What's your favorite dish?
It was chicken thighs for a long time, when I was a kid I liked them cooked in the oven for 25/30 minutes at 200 Celsius degrees. You put a little bit of salt on, and then they are ready, mouthwatering and delicious. But not my favorite anymore, today I'd probably say sushi.
We have given homework to Alex, we asked him to think about the word man and now we are very curious to hear what his thoughts are and what he came up with.
I was thinking of a hell of a lot of things, and at the same time, I was thinking zero things. I think it's so hard to talk about this and to feel that you are somehow obligated to talk about it, but I manged to write something down. So I should be able to talk about this. But it is so hard to feel that one has to generalize in any way. But you shouldn't, really. You can only answer for yourself.
When I come to think of a meaning of the word man, I come to think that I couldn't help but imagine some American culture that we all seem to follow blindly that's based on having the coolest clothes and going to clubs to hook up. Or you just see them wanting to be basketball players and driving sports cars. It's either rappers, basketball players or actors. I wasn't a great guy at all and I was heavily influenced by it, but then I came to realize it's not for me. It's not supposed to be like that at all.
So what's the kind of man that gives priority to those things?
The very first thing that comes to my mind is that they are drawn to that lifestyle cause it means having a lot of money, high status and living without a care in the world. You're a breadwinner. Instead I often worry in terms of where I am here in Copenhagen in 2019 and the group of friends I have here and with whom I spend my time with.
So there have been some people in your life, who have been carefree motherfuckers.
Both things. But I like to go to my dad right away and he is not a carefree person at all. But he is also not a man who has struggled with some of the things that I struggled with. Fighting with anxiety for example. And as I know many of my friends struggle with men but as women. And that's it. My dad says he doesn't know about it because he's from a different generation or maybe I've just been unlucky. He never experienced any of that. Before he could worry, he was a grown man who had to support his family. He has had the same job for 25 years now and then goes home, works in the garden, cuddles with my mother and travels around the world and then comes back home. But I would also say that he has not been very manly, he is actually quite soft many times. I can remember my little sister's confirmation where he was supposed to give a speech but didn't get through it, he was feeling emotional. Mom always keeps a watchful eye on him, especially when he talks about breast cancer and what she has been through.
You described your father as the example of a man you saw growing up, but that was your experience as a boy. What did it mean to you growing up? How did that shape the man you are today?
I think my dad has given me a lot of really cool stuff. His presence in my life gave me a lot. His sense of humor first of all, because he's one of the funniest people I know, and he can definitely be funny on a bad day, too. I love him. I hope my sense of humor is as funny as his. Also he has always been really good at taking things easy. So even when it gets tough, he helps heal all the wounds. He was a very important presence in my life, he has being a really good father and I always think of my dad as the primary example of a man. Even the soft side of my dad. When I talked to him and had heart to heart conversations, he showed me his vulnerable side. And I learned that being vulnerable is ok. That's a really good thing, I think. There has always been room for me, to express myself. He hasn't been one of those patriarchal fathers in a carnally old society, so out of touch and never talking to the children.
But what has it meant to you to have such a father? Where was there room for you or your feelings?
It meant everything in the whole world. He has always been an example. He was supportive of my dreams and  has always been there for me. When I started to do theater, he drove me from SkÌlskør to Copenhagen from the age of 11 to 17. So six years, where my dad comes and picks me up after work, he picks me up in the afternoon after I finish school or high school. And then he drives me to Copenhagen so that I can do theater, sits and waits for three hours while I do theater, and then he drives me home again. And when he's home, he goes straight to bed because he's going to work the day after. He did it for 6 years in a row, it is very touching and beautiful. He has been a great father, so I also hope that I can become an equally good father at some point, because I have had an absolutely wonderful role model. Him.
This is what you remember and treasure from your childhood. Is there a community at the time that you've been a part of?
Well, the schoolyard. It was football with the boys and I've always played both football and basketball. Football was big for us boys, it was everything. We were always thinking: âwho is the best and who is the worst?â. We played all the time and that challenged the competition âgeneâ I have in me, which is pretty extreme, it was all about me trying to do better than the two or three other guys in my class who were about as good. We were all at the same level. We have always been competitive since primary school.
Probably was a way of socializing.
Yes, I think so. We were such innocent boys and then we became a team. But it's that sense of being wild and free and learning how to win and lose. And then tomorrow is a brand new day to play a new game. Carelessness is such a big thing when you're little. Something you could well miss when you're in your mid-twenties having a lot of problems.
When you say that you mean today you're a completely different man or better, a wiser but soft man with challenges and worries?
I think where I came from was from a really, really nice family. There was room for everything.
That feels like winning.
Yes, that's how you win. We didn't understand many feelings being boys that young. But I remember this talent show I was a part of, when I was 11 years old, it was a tv program where I sang and danced. It was different from what country kids experience, you have just sports there. My classmates came to see me and they were extremely supportive, I was so happy, it was fantastic. There was the whole class in there with banners and everything and the amazing experience so wonderful. But strange. Then a couple months later I had an argument with one of my teammates on the football field, he told me that just because I was on a tv show didn't mean I was better than him. I still remember those words, I was shocked, I remember those words like I heard them a week ago.
Kids, it was just kids, but I felt such a sense of shame, did I really act like I thought I was better than him? No matter who the hell you talk to, people who did something that made them a little different from the others, feel this way. People who might be famous or what the hell. They probably always feel completely calm, especially if I imagine me at 11, I just wanted to go back to school to play football. I did not attach any further value to it. I did not feel that me being on a tv show could have caused problems. But apparently it did. I spent the next six years of my life after that âincidentâ in Copenhagen, at the Eventyrteatret, feeling more at home than ever.
Why did you feel more at home?
Because they were just like me, crazy just like me, energetic just like me and loved dancing and singing just like me.
END PART ONE
Ask me in messages if you wanna be tagged // Feel free to like, comment and share, thank you!
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3AM
hereâs a cute connverse fic I wrote (also up on AO3 and FF.net which are linked in my description)
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Connie finally convinced her parents to let Steven sleep over at their house
~~~~
Connie had finally convinced her parents to let Steven stay the night, without there being some kind of horrible weather to back it up. She'd said it took hours to convince them, with a myriad of excuses and a heck of a lot of bargaining. But, she did it, and now Steven was with Connie in her room.
He was only allowed in there with her if they kept the door open. He was also allowed to sleep in her room, but he had to sleep on the floor--which he was going to do anyway? But Connie's parents still felt the need to state that as a rule. They were allowed to close the door when they went to sleep, though, so there was that, but only when they went to sleep.
"I still can't believe your parents are actually letting me stay here tonight," Steven mused as he wandered around Connie's room. This was actually the first time he'd ever been in her room, and Connie found his curiosity quite amusing.
"Yeah, I know. Don't expect it to happen again anytime soon, though," she said from her bed. With how much effort she had to put in just to get this, she honestly didn't even want to do this again. Not for a while. It was exhausting.
"So, anyway, what do you wanna do? I don't usually stay up past ten or ten thirty, so we don't really have that long to do anything. But I'd still like to pass the time with something," she said, kicking her legs.
Steven paused in his exploring and thought for a minute. What even was there to do? She didn't have a TV in her room, and she didn't really have much in terms of games--other than board and card games, which wouldn't be too bad. But they'd already played a bunch of those since he'd gotten here. It had been fun, and her parents had actually joined them for a few games, but he wasn't really sure if he wanted to play more of that right now.
He finally thought of something and took out his phone before going over to Connie. He got on the bed beside her and she watched him pull something up on the screen.
"So, I have this game that I play with the Gems sometimes. It's one of those trivia games, but it's like...it's not really the kind of stuff you'd expect? It's got a lot of random and super obscure and funny stuff, and you have to pick the correct option from a few different ones. We're not very good at it, it's just funny to see how right or wrong we are," Steven explained as he navigated the app.
"Huh. That does sound fun," Connie said with a quiet laugh. "I know a lot of random trivia, comes with all the books I've read. I'm not sure if it's to the level of what you've implied here, though."
"Well, I guess we'll have to find out," Steven said as he hit the "play" button.
They played this game for a while, laughing almost hysterically at some of the trivia questions. Connie actually ended up knowing the answers to a decent amount of them, too, which shocked them both. When they finally remembered to check the time it was ten minutes after eleven.
"Oh! Gosh, we need to get to sleep," Connie gasped, hopping off the bed. "Why didn't my parents say anything? They never let me stay up this late."
"Maybe they didn't want to interrupt us having fun?" Steven suggested. It was a possibility. They definitely couldn't have just forgotten with how loud the two had been.
âHmmâŚI guess so? Itâs not like they havenât loosened up over the last few years, so itâs not out of the question. Let's still get to sleep before it gets much later, though."
Steven nodded and they both went and cleaned up for the night.
Once everything was taken care of, Connie closed her door and climbed into bed, while Steven shuffled into his sleeping bag. Connie switched her lights off once Steven was situated and he heard her lie down.
A few minutes went by and he heard Connie start to move again. She was scooting closer and when he opened his eyes he saw her face peeking out over the edge of the bed. He gave her a confused look, then her arm slid over the edge and she made a grabbing motion with her hand.Â
Steven let out an amused snort and lifted his arm. Given their positions, holding Connie's hand was a little awkward, but they managed. She scooted a little more so that her arm could hang a bit lower, which made holding onto her somewhat easier at least. She squeezed his hand before adjusting her pillow so that she could comfortably lay her head down.
She closed her eyes to sleep and Steven just gazed up at her for a few minutes, a soft expression on his face. Soon after he started to doze off and then they were both fast asleep.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sometime after, Steven was woken up by a gentle tugging on his sleeve. His eyes blinked open and he squinted up at Connie, who seemed almost wide awake. He rubbed his eyes and turned to look out the window. It was still pitch black outside.
"What time is it?" Steven asked as his head lazily rolled back over to face the girl above him.
"It's like...three in the morning."
He stared at her with half closed eyes.
"âŚWhy did you wake me up at three in the morning?"
"Um..."
Steven could just barely see her face darken with a blush.
"I'm, um...I'm cold and don't have another blanket," she murmured into her pillow. "So, I was wondering if you'd maybe, come up here?"
They looked at each other for a few seconds before Steven slowly sat up with a half-asleep, grumbling moan. He gave a big stretch and scratched the back of his head before unzipping the sleeping bag.
"Hurry uuup," Connie said and he mumbled a "yeah, yeah," before grabbing onto the bed and pulling himself to his feet. He waited for Connie to move over and got under the blankets, then let himself fall onto his side, causing the mattress to squeak, and Connie huffed.
"You're so dramatic."
"Nah, just tired."
She chuckled and came closer, and Steven put his arms around her and pulled her in against his chest.
"You know your parents are going to kill us if they see this," Steven murmured into her hair. She snuggled against him and hummed softly.
"It'll be okay. My parents don't just barge into my room, especially if my door is closed. Don't worry."
She felt his chest rumble in acknowledgement and he kissed the top of her head. She giggled and curled her fingers into his shirt as Steven rubbed her back with his thumb.
A few quiet minutes went by like this before Connie moved again, getting an annoyed groan from Steven. "Connie, go to sleep," he grumbled, gently shoving her face closer against his chest. She held back a laugh and pushed against him to free herself from the fabric of his shirt.
"Can I ask for something first?"
"No."
"Please?"
"Nooo. Go to sleep."
Connie snickered at Steven's whining and nudged herself away from him so that she could move upwards on the bed. She laid her head in front of his and he made a noise, but didn't open his eyes.
His eyebrows knit together a moment later and he scrunched up his nose when she poked it. He still didn't open his eyes, though. Instead, he brought his hand up and blindly put it over Connie's face, then gave a push. She grunted when he did this, but had an amused face when Steven took his hand away.
He had his face hidden in the pillow now and Connie huffed again, turning on to her back and crossing her arms. "Come on, don't make me beg."
Steven mumbled something into the pillow.
"...Huh?"
He turned his head just enough for Connie to see one of his eyes. "I said it's cute when you beg."
Connie gave him a mock offended gasp and she saw him smile.
"Okay, give me a good reason for why I should kiss you."
"Uhh, because you love me?"
"Eeehhh."
She turned and shoved him with her foot, to which he responded with a breathy chuckle.
"You're the worst."
He just shrugged.
"You're really gunna make me beg for this, aren't you?"
"You woke me up at three AM."
She pouted but it was a fair point.
After a moment she crawled over to Steven, got on top of him, and flopped down onto his back. He groaned again as she messed with his hair.
"Come on, please? Just one."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Tired."
"That hasn't stopped you before."
"Mm."
Connie yelped a second later as Steven lifted himself up and flipped over. She squirmed underneath him and managed to move him just enough to get her head out.
"Hey!"
"Shhhh."
She puffed her cheeks and started squirming again.
"You're heavy."
"Yep."
"I hate you."
"Uh-huh."
Connie sighed and gave up on trying to get him off. She kind of deserved this anyway.
Quite some time went by and Connie thought that Steven had actually fallen back to sleep. She pushed against him again but this time tried pushing with her legs as well, and managed to slide him off a few inches more.
"Mmmmnnn."
"Oh, so you are still awake."
"Unfortunately."
He rolled himself off the rest of the way before rearranging himself back under the blanket.
Connie did the same, then sat up and frowned at the boy next to her. "You know, the sooner you give me a kiss, the sooner you can go back to sleep."
He seemed to consider that for a while. Then, with yet another groan, he got up. Connie giggled as he stretched his back like a cat before sitting up.
"You make a good argument."
"So...can I have that kiss then?"
"I guess."
She grinned and crawled over to his waiting arms.
"You're such a nuisance," Steven told her before finally giving her what she wanted.
She smiled into the kiss, which was soft and tired, as she wrapped her arms around Steven's shoulders. She felt him slide an arm down and he started to move, so she broke the kiss to watch him.
Steven carefully lowered himself down onto the bed, guiding Connie along with him. She hovered over him now, gazing down into his sleepy, loving eyes.
He reached up and brushed his fingers along her cheek, then gently pulled her closer. He brought her in for another kiss, and she let herself sink into him as his arms wrapped around her back.
It was well past 3AM now, but Steven didn't seem to care about that anymore. Right now he just cared about the kisses, the feeling of Connieâs skin against his finger tips, and the tickle of her breath on his face whenever they came apart.
Connie had her fingers tangled in his curly hair as they kissed and cooed and made gentle movements against each other for neither knows how long. She reveled Steven's touch, his closeness, and she wasn't about to stop it by looking at the clock.
Steven's hands had started to travel lower and lower now, sliding down her back, until Connie had to cut him off with a quick, "Hey!" which he quietly laughed at.
"I'm just teasing, you know I wouldn't do that."
She rolled her eyes and smiled at him. "I know."
They kissed again, and Steven put a firm hand on her back. He turned, ending the kiss for just a few seconds to carefully place Connie down beneath him.
"I thought you were tired?" Connie said with a smug look on her face. Steven didn't answer, just went in for another kiss. And another, and another.
Connie was full of giggles by the end of all this as Steven pressed little kisses along her neck and jaw line and all over her smiling face. He'd become so much more affectionate toward her over the last several months, which she definitely wasn't going to complain about, because it meant more of this.
Connie felt him trailing kisses back down her neck, along her collarbone, and over to the exposed skin above her chest. She tried to quiet her giggling by covering her mouth when Steven made a shushing sound but that didn't last long because he went back to kissing her face.
She gave him a soft shove and said, "You're going to get us in trouble!"
"You're the one making all the noise," he teased before leaning in to start kissing her again.
Connie, still giggling, held his face back as he tried to get closer, causing him to start laughing as well.
"Shhhh, Steven!"
They both had a hand over the other's mouth, trying to stop themselves from laughing, which was working, but barely. The hands were removed once they'd both finally calmed downâwhich took about five minutesâand Steven abandoned his position above Connie to lie down beside her.
"Okay, what time is it?" he asked and she sat up a little so that she could see the clock.
"Oh, gosh, it's almost four thirty."
"Ah."
Connie settled back down and turned her head to look at Steven, who was looking right back. For a while this was how they stayed, then Steven lifted himself up again.
"Okay, one more and then we go to sleep," he said and Connie started giggling again.
"Sure. But make it a good one."
"Can do."
Steven bent down and gave her one last kiss. It was long and deep as he weaved his fingers into Connieâs messy hair and she gently pushed herself up against him.
The final separation was slow as Steven picked himself up, left a kiss on Connie's forehead, and returned to her side.
"Was that good enough?" he asked. She snickered and nodded.
"Okay, good, because I'm starting to feel tired again."
Connie smiled and stretched her arms above her head, then held them out for Steven. He smiled and moved closer, nuzzling into her small chest as she put her arms around him. He reached down and grabbed the blanket, pulled it up, then slipped his hand under Connie's shirt to rest his hand on her back, which she stifled a laugh over.
"Good night, Steven. I love you."
"I love you too, Connie. Now donât wake me up again."
She chuckled and hugged him a little closer. "I wonât."
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I need another blanket for Christmas/winter prompts? Thank you!
Thanks so much for the ask, @commanderraydorsass!
December 19, 2019
Sharon jerked awake when she heard Andy's alarm go off. LA was experiencing a bit of a cold snap, and she was more than happy to be able to stay under the covers. Andy grumbled about it being cold and gave her a suffering look as he climbed out of bed and started for the shower. With him up, Sharon immediately rolled over to his side of the bed, relishing his familiar scent and the warm spot he'd left. She dozed off until she heard him come back in, dressed for work. "Okay, now you're just rubbing it in. This isn't fair."
Sharon sleepily opened an eye in his direction. "It's warmer over here and smells like you...You're only working a half-day, anyway, and then you can come back and keep me warm."
"Ha, ha." Andy leaned down to kiss her. "I love you."
"Love you...hold on." She blindly reached up for his face until he was leaning beside her again, wanting another whiff of his new cologne. "'Kay. Bye."
Sharon got up a little while later and slipped into her warmest robe. The kitchen still smelled faintly of coffee, but she knew Rusty had probably studied for most of the night and left for his last exam of the semester before 6:30 to get more last-minute studying done at school. Still, she confirmed that his car was gone to make sure he hadn't crawled back in bed and overslept before putting a coffee pod in the Keurig. She wasn't going to make another pot just for herself, and the coffee that was left wasn't exactly fresh.
It was too cold to take her coffee out to the porch like she usually did, so Sharon settled in a bar stool and looked out at the gray, misty morning. She was startled by a knock at the garage door, but she looked over and waved in her neighbor, who was dressed for the hike they had planned. She looked at the clock on the microwave. "Oh, my, did we say 8:00? I thought we said 8:30."
Debra shook her head. "No, we said 8:30, we're just out of creamer, and I wanted some coffee first."
Sharon finished her granola bar and got out a coffee mug and the creamer. "You know where the pods are, help yourself to whatever you want. I'll get dressed while you're doing that."
Coffee in hand, she went to her bedroom and changed into her workout gear. It was chilly outside, so she looked through her drawers for her warmest sweatshirt. Once her mug was empty, she tied up her hair and brushed her teeth. Debra was finishing her coffee by the time she got back to the kitchen. "Ready to go?"
The hiking trail was a couple of blocks from their neighborhood, so it wasn't long before they were back home. It was after 10:00, and Sharon's granola bar was long gone. "I know this defeats the purpose, but I wouldn't mind cooking breakfast if you want to come back over. I'm getting hungry again."
Debra shrugged. "Sounds good to me. I have stuff for mimosas, I'll run home and get it. Need anything else?"
"I think we have everything. See you in a minute." Sharon stopped at the end of the driveway to get the mail. The Christmas cards had stopped in the last couple of days, but there seemed to be a couple of stragglers in today's mail. She opened the cards first and added them to the bulletin board beside the refrigerator that was now covered with Marie, Nicole's and Dean's children, Mark, her siblings' and friends' grandchildren, and the children of some of Emily's and Ricky's high school friends. The last one she opened was from Patrice, and she laughed at the image of Provenza's face photoshopped into The Grinch and Patrice's into Cindy Lou Who.
She got her Christmas playlist started on Google Home and was pulling things out of the refrigerator when the alarm system beeped. Debra came in with another neighbor. "I found a wanderer on the way back," she explained.
"Hi, Caroline," Sharon greeted as she started a pot of coffee.
"Hi, Sharon. I can't believe you guys went hiking this morning. I took one look outside and rolled right back over in bed."
"It was tempting," Sharon agreed, "but I feel better now that we've done it. I've been eating like crap this week, and next week will just be worse. I've at least exercised every day, but I probably won't next week...Is it cold in here? I can turn the heat on if I need to."
Caroline shook her head. "God, no. Mike's been bitching about turning on the heat since it got colder this week, but I'm finally not hot all the time, for once. My doctor took me off of hormone replacement, and Mike might miss it more than I do. I wasn't freezing him to death while I was on it, and I would've humped the sink if I could. That stuff had me wanting it all the time."
Sharon laughed. "I remember my sister saying the same thing several years ago. And I'm surprised Andy hasn't whined about wanting to turn on the heat, but I'm sure he will soon."
"On that note, I think it's time for mimosas." Debra opened the champagne and started filling glasses. "I brought my homemade strawberry jelly, too."
"Do you know the way to my heart, or what?" Sharon buttered some bread and slipped the slices into the toaster. "I'm going to need a detox after New Years."
Once the kitchen was clean and her friends were gone, Sharon started a large pot of vegetable soup. Andy came in a little after 1:00 and wrapped his arms around her waist as she was stirring it at the stove. "Mmm, smells good."
"What? Me, or the soup?" Sharon turned to kiss him. "I'm kidding, I know I don't smell great. Debra and I went hiking this morning."
"I'm not complaining." Sharon's playlist was still going, and the next song had Andy twirling her around the kitchen. They're singing deck the halls, but it's not like Christmas at all, 'cause I remember when you were here, and all the fun we had last year...
She kissed Andy again before pulling away from him. "I need to take a shower, you mind watching the soup?"
"Sure."
Sharon pulled her top over her head on the way to their bathroom and turned the shower on before discarding her clothes in the hamper. It wasn't five minutes before she felt a slight chill as the shower door was opened. "Andy!"
"I'm going to be watching chick flicks all afternoon, so you can let me have a little fun first."
"But my soup..." Sharon protested with mock concern.
"It's on low. It'll be fine." Andy took the loofah from her hand and took over for her. She relaxed in his arms and let him run it over her. When they got out, Sharon dried off and pulled on her favorite sweatpants and a UCLA sweatshirt. Andy was getting a bowl of soup, but she wasn't hungry yet. After plugging in the Christmas tree lights and adding a cranberry-scented bar to her scent warmer, she settled in the recliner with a couple of blankets and flipped through the streaming options on the TV for Love Actually.
"You're not hungry?" Andy asked, situating himself beside her with his soup.
Sharon shook her head. "Debra, Caroline, and I cooked breakfast just a couple of hours ago. I'll get some in a little bit."
Andy sighed dramatically. "Must be nice."
"Oh, it is...But I can't wait for you to join me. You don't have too much longer...Andy, seriously, your soup's going to get cold!" Sharon said when he kissed her for what seemed like the hundredth time since he got home.
"We're under the mistletoe. That's Christmas's rule, not mine."
Sharon rolled her eyes. Andy had strategically placed mistletoe in several places in the house where they often ended up side by side. "This place is crawling with mistletoe, it's damn near impossible to not be under it."
Andy grinned. "Yeah, that was the point. It's not often that your love for rules works in my favor."
"I do like the rules," Sharon murmured, returning the kiss. "Especially this one."
Andy finished his soup and curled up beside Sharon, trying to get warm. "Sha-aron, it's freezing in here!" The gas logs were on, but they hadn't done much good yet. "Just because you're cold-blooded doesn't mean the rest of us are!"
"It's not freezing, Andy."
"It's close enough. I need another blanket." Andy got a soft brown throw from the chest against the wall and got comfortable again in the chair. He was always a fan of Sharon's appearance, no matter what, but he liked her the best this way. With no makeup, comfortable clothes, and the scent of her soap instead of perfume, he always had a hard time keeping his hands off of her. Love Actually had only been on for a half hour, but he was already lost. "I can never keep up with this movie."
Sharon nudged him as his hand wandered under her blanket. "If you'd pay attention to the movie, for once, then you could follow it."
"Yeah, because that's what my mind is on right now. The movie."
Emily called a few minutes later, asking if she could drop off Marie to take a nap while she finished up her shopping. Sharon met her in the driveway and unbuckled the fifteen-month-old from her car seat. "Hey, precious! Are you going to stay with Gammy for a little bit?" Marie could barely hold her eyes open, but she smiled and reached for Sharon.
"Thanks, Mom," Emily said. "I didn't think it would take me this long, but I want to finish today, and she wasn't having it."
Sharon lifted Marie into her arms and rubbed her back. "It's okay. You know I'll keep her any time. Be careful, honey."
"I will. I should be back in a couple of hours."
Sharon checked Marie's diaper as they walked inside, pausing by the thermostat to switch on the heat. "Let's get you changed, and then I believe it's naptime."
Marie didn't protest at either suggestion like she normally would have and lay still as Sharon got her changed. Andy gave her a knowing look, having heard the heat kick on, as she sat in the recliner beside him with Marie lying on her shoulder. "Oh, so that's what it took to get some warmth in here." His expression softened when Marie gave him a sleepy smile. "Hey, wild girl. We'll play when you wake up, okay?"
Sharon shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I won't need you to keep me warm later."
"Never mind," Andy quickly amended.
Sharon draped her blanket over Marie, rubbing her back and rocking as her eyes began to close. Obviously a little cold, the baby curled into her as she fell asleep. With a contented sigh, Sharon lay against Andy. "I'm so happy," she couldn't help but comment.
"Retirement agrees with you, no question," Andy agreed. She'd had more time for her family and friends than ever before, and she was always glowing when she came home from, or even talked about, the charities she volunteered for downtown a few days a week. "I love seeing you so happy."
"Hmm." Marie's warm weight and heavy breathing were starting to put Sharon to sleep, too. It was warmer by the time the movie was over, so she decided to put her down. "Will you please set up the pack'n play in our room?"
"Sure." Andy carefully edged himself away from them and walked toward their bedroom.
Sharon waited a couple of minutes before following him with the sleeping toddler in her arms. Andy had just finished, so she laid Marie down and lightly patted her stomach before grabbing the monitor and leaving the room. Emily and Emmett had gotten more than one monitor set as gifts, so one of them stayed at Sharon's and Andy's.
Next on the movie list was White Christmas, and Rusty came in from his exam and collapsed on the couch as it was starting. Sharon pried her head away from Andy's shoulder and looked over at him. "Hi, honey, how was your exam? Did you get any sleep last night?"
"Mmph. Remind me to check the exam schedule before I register for classes," Rusty whined. "Even 1Ls didn't have any this late. I should've just gone to Bainbridge's office and bent over. It would've been faster and less painful."
Sharon's eyes widened. "Rusty!"
"Oh. Sorry. Forgot you were Mom," he mumbled against the back of the couch.
He'd started studying for finals around Halloween and was in the top fifteen percent of his class, so Sharon doubted it was all that bad. "I'm sure you did fine, honey."
For the next couple of hours, Sharon and Andy dozed off and on until they heard Marie babbling through the monitor. "I'll get her," Andy volunteered.
Sharon sat up and rubbed her eyes, surprised to see that White Christmas was almost over. Its familiar score and dialogue had lulled her to sleep more than once since it started. She was starting to get hungry, so she got a bowl of vegetable soup and came back to the living room. One of many good things about living in a neighborhood again was having neighbors who liked to garden and share their excess vegetables and fresh tomato juice. She usually preferred not to eat on the furniture, but the dreary day called for it, and Rusty was unconscious and unable to call her out.
She had just gotten The Holiday started when Andy came back in with a drowsy Marie in his arms. She was obsessed with Andy, but she always wanted Sharon when she was sleepy. "Ga," she whimpered, holding her arms out for Sharon.
"Come here, baby." Sharon took her from Andy and patted her back as she nuzzled into her shoulder. Marie lay on Sharon's shoulder for a few minutes, but it didn't take long for her to perk up and look around for Andy.
"It's about time you come see Papa!" Andy picked her up and pulled some of her toys out before getting on the floor with her. He gave the TV a pained look and turned to Sharon. "When's it time for Die Hard?"
Sharon rolled her eyes. "You and Rusty can watch it while I'm at dinner tonight." She and her closest friends had been doing an earring exchange every Christmas for over thirty years now, and they were going out for dinner for that tonight.
Rusty woke up a little while later and joined Andy and Marie on the floor, and Andy took the opportunity to get back in the recliner with Sharon. The blankets were no longer necessary, but they still curled up together. Rusty hadn't noticed the change in temperature when he got home, but he did now that he was more alert. "I just noticed that it's not ten below in here. Andy, you finally got Mom to cave?"
Andy shook his head. "That would take a power greater than me." He nodded at Marie. "It took the rugrat coming over to save us from freezing to death."
Rusty nodded. "I should've known."
Later that evening, Sharon got ready and slipped into her favorite casual red dress. Or maybe it was her favorite because she liked to tease Andy in it, she couldn't remember. Andy gave her a suffering look as she walked into the kitchen with her clutch. "Putting that dress on and then leaving me isn't good for my blood pressure."
Sharon kissed his cheek. "We'll have to do something about that when I get home," she murmured, wiping off traces of lipstick she left on his cheek.
"Oh, god," Rusty moaned from the bar. "I think I'd rather take another exam than listen to to you guys be disgusting."
Sharon got home a couple of hours later and changed into her pajamas before getting a glass of wine and joining Andy in the living room. He moved over in the recliner so she could sit with him.
"You guys do know that there's other furniture in here," Rusty pointed out, looking disturbed.
Sharon shrugged. "Who needs it?"
"Oh, gross." Rusty scrolled through the guide on the TV. "Ugh, Badge of Justice, no thank you. I'm still not over it."
Andy ran his hand over his face. "Oh, god, here we go."
Sharon sipped her wine. "I'm not, either. Sherry dying would've been tolerable if it made sense and wasn't done as a result of an adult using human life as a bargaining chip and then throwing a fit when he didn't get his way--I know it's fictional," she said, anticipating Andy's thoughts, "but he acted like a child about it."
"Yeah, look at Madam Secretary," Rusty added. "It was canceled, but Mom said that the last season was her favorite. The writers managed to write a great season that the fans would love even though they knew it was canceled. Huff knew he was going to piss everyone off, but he went on and on about how it was the 'season loyal fans deserved and they were going to be happy with it,' and then blamed them for reacting the way they did."
Sharon shrugged. "Well, not every show can have a woman creator, but even the ones that don't should at least be honest and stand by their decisions instead of blaming the network and fans when people rightfully get upset. He flat-out said that no major characters would die after Baylor, so a lot of fans had a false sense of security about Sherry and thought that the dropped hints were just Huff being dramatic."
"I can't believe it's been two years..." Rusty looked at the date on his phone. "Today. I remember because it was my other mom's birthday--damn it, I haven't called her yet."
Once he was out of the room, Sharon wrapped her arms around Andy's neck and lay on his shoulder. "How are you? Still cold?" She asked meaningfully.
Andy nodded. "Frigid."
Sharon got up and offered her hand. "Let's go see what we can do about that."
"Right behind you, commander."
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Used to Be Overlooked. Chapter 27.
Series Summary: Steve Rogers was walking down the streets of Brooklyn after finishing a mission. The goal was just to take some time to clear his mind along the city streets, but when he runs into a gorgeous young lady that looks extremely familiar⌠How can he go about moving on? Who is she? What does he know her from? Was that memory even from this decade?
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (Rosalyn Ember/ Y/N ?)
A/N: Ok everyone! I think Iâll only have about 1-2 more chapters of this series! Iâm not sure how long they will be, but one may be the epilogue. Please let me know what you think of this chapter!!! I kinda got carried away...
Word Count: 4100+
Series Masterlist
Chapter 27:
The car ride back to the house was quiet, tense, and uncomfortable. Instead of your mind racing at a hundred miles an hour to figure things out, it went practically brain dead. You were too exhausted to process everything that went down, and just wanted to curl up in bed and not come out for hours.Â
Steve and Tony shared a look after seeing you blindly stare out the window. It was almost like your soul had left your body and left a shell of a person behind.Â
Steve wanted to pull you in and hold you to give you the energy you needed. He wanted to switch places with you so you never had to feel the pain that you were feeling right this instant. He hated seeing the bright and happy person you usually were, completely gone.Â
You finally arrived at the compound and as soon as the car was in park, you didnât wait for someone to open the door. You got out, and headed straight for your room. You didnât want to talk. You didnât want to pretend that what just happened, didnât happened. You just wanted to sleep and hopefully forget about it for a few hours. Hell, a few minutes if you could manage.Â
You walked by a worried Steve who tried coming to your aid, but remembered how he shouldnât suffocate you. Especially at a time like this. Wanda and Tony also were going to step in and say something, but you walked past them too fast before they could. Lastly, Bucky kept his distance. He knew exactly where you were mentally. He wasnât going to stop you on your mission to your bedroom.Â
Luckily, you made it to your room without any one stopping you. Immediately changing into a sweatshirt and shorts, you climbed into your bed, and cocooned yourself into the giant comforter. You sat there for about 10 minutes with your mind blank. Then almost like a slap to the face, the thoughts that you had kept at bay hit you hard. You found yourself crying and not stopping yourself from doing so. You wanted to let it out. It felt good to let it out.Â
About 30 minutes of coming home and crying, you heard the slightest sound of someone knocking on the door.
You sniffled away some tears to and quieted yourself to make sure you werenât just hearing anything.Â
There was a pause before another rap on the door, and the low voice of someone came through.
âY/N?âÂ
It was Steve. You were too tired to try and push him away, and something in you told you to not fight him.Â
âY/N, can I come in? Itâs just me,â he asked.
You nodded before realizing he couldnât see you. You sniffled a few more tears, and with a hoarse voice, spoke up.
âY-Yeah, come in.â
The door opened a crack before slowly opening all the way and showing Steve in sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He had a tray of things in his hands, but you didnât pay much attention to what was on it.Â
âHey sweetheart. I, uh, I brought you some things. You need to take your pain meds, and-â he stopped when he saw you crumpled in a ball at the head of the bed. He heard you crying and he was just going to drop things off and then let you be, but seeing you broken like this wasnât what he thought he would see. âY/N,â he said in an endearing way before he placed the tray on the dresser and made his way to you.
You sniffled the few tears you werenât able to push back, and brought your sweatshirt to your face to wipe away any evidence of sadness.Â
âI, uh, Iâm not doing too hot right now,â you forced a fake laugh. âI c-canât really⌠Comprehend everything and-â you stopped as your voice began to waver. You werenât going to make it through the rest of the sentence without crying.Â
So you didnât push it down and instead let Steve see the vulnerable side of you. You broke down crying and in an instant Steve had you engulfed in his arms again. He moved to the empty side of the bed and pulled you into his side. He threw your feet over his lap and let you form into a ball on him.Â
You didnât fight him or the rush of tears marking your face. You let it all out. He sat there brushing your hair with one hand and moving the other up and down your legs that were thrown over him. He hushed you when your sobs became too much for you to breath and helped you to get your breath back.Â
30 more minutes went by of this. It finally got to the point to where you exhausted yourself and every other minute or so, you would sniffle as you laid in his arms. He gave you a second. He was going to let you be the first to talk. For all he knew, you would break down again. He was going to stay right there until you were ready. He would wait for an eternity if he needed to.Â
âI donât know what to do,â you said quietly into his shirt as you looked off into the corner of the room.
âWhy do you have to do anything?â Steve asked.Â
âI-I donât know. I feel like I should do something though. For thoseâŚâ you paused and took a deep breath to stop yourself from crying again. âThose families that got hurt because of me. They deserve something better.âÂ
âHey now.â Steve pulled back and moved you to where he could see your face better. âDonât blame yourself for what Bates did.â
âIf it wasnât because of me-â
âWant to hear something really crazy?â You looked up at him confused. âThis really amazing, beautiful, and wise women shared this really nice thought with me when I was in a spot like you are now.â
You knew where he was going with this, and you rolled your eyes with a small smile before burrowing back into his chest.Â
âDonât say it.âÂ
âWere you the one who told those people to sign up for the experiment?â
You paused thinking about it. He was about to pull a you on you.Â
âNo,â you mumbled.Â
âSorry, canât hear you,â he said leaning down in a teasing manner.Â
âNooooo,â you drug out a little louder.
âIs your name Garrison Bates, and do you have an evil agenda that hurt others for the purpose of your own self?â Steve summed up.
âNo,â you said hesitantly.
âYou donât sound like you believe in yourself.â
âBecause,â you pulled back looking at him. Now he could really see the red in your eyes and around your cheeks from crying. His heart broke a little and he brought his hand to wipe the wetness off of your face as you continued to talk. âIf it wasnât for my love-struck, teenage self, I wouldnât be in this position. If I would have listened to Peggy and kept my mouth shut about my problem, then none of this would have happened.â
âPlease donât look at it like that Y/N. You arenât at fault for this,â he reassured you as you cried more into his hands and leaned into his touch closing your eyes for a second. âYou trusted him, and he took advantage of it. Thatâs all on him. None of it is on you.â
âItâs hard to see it that way.â
âI know, I know, but you have to try. Because if you donât, youâll continued to crumble and end up falling into a pit of self hate. All that does is swallow you whole.â
You sniffle a few times to catch your breath.
âYouâre right. I canât look at it this way,â you nodded your head that was still in his hands.
âNo, you canât. It wonât end well,â he said moving his hands to your shoulders and pulling you back into his chest. âYouâre stronger than this Y/N. Everyone knows it. You letting him get in your head is what he wants. Itâs how he wins, and he doesnât deserve any of that.â
âNo, he doesnât.â
A few more minutes passed of just calming energy flowing between you two. He was becoming your new shelter for refuge and you were perfectly fine with it. So was he.Â
âHow are you feeling physically?â he said into your hair from resting his chin on your head.Â
âUh...â You had to take a second to think about it. You havenât really been listening to your body. Youâve been in another world. âHonestly, not too great,â you answered pulling back and resting a hand on your ribs. âI think I pulled something jumping over that table.â
âYeah, I wouldnât be surprised. You flew at him pretty fast. Impressive by the way. None of us were expecting that,â Steve chuckled getting up to get your medicine. âI figured you may have overextended yourself, so I brought those pain meds. You can take them and take a nap. Rest sounds like something you need right now.â He handed you the pills with a glass of water which you took and swallowed.Â
âThank you,â you smiled at him wiping your face with your sleeves.Â
âOf course. Iâll always help you where I can sweetheart,â he smiled. âOk, Iâm going to let you get some sleep. Donât think too much, ok?â He leaned down giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek before turning. âGet some rest-â You grabbed his hand before he could get too far which made him look down at the movement.
âStay. Please,â you said quietly.Â
âWhat?â
âI canât be alone with my thoughts right now. I canât stop them from coming, and I-I just-â
âItâs ok. Iâll stay,â he said seeing you start getting anxious at being alone. âDo you want me to grab a chair, or-â You set him a bitch face at the dumb question. He just looked back and nodded. âYeah, stupid question,â he chuckled nervously.Â
You moved over creating more space for him and went under the covers. He moved around you until you were comfortable, and next thing you knew, you were curled into his side once again, and he had his arm thrown over your shoulder to keep you close.
âCan you put Friends on?â you asked like a child wanting to watch TV before bed.Â
âFriends?â he asked.Â
âYou donât know friends?â
âI mean Sam watches it, but Iâve never sat down and tried it for myself.â
âThen you have a lot to learn. Put on Netflix,â you nodded to the TV snuggling into him more.
âYes maâam,â he chuckled at your command.Â
Not even 10 minutes into the episode, you were knocked out on him. He looked down when he heard your breathing steady. He leaned over and brushed some hair out of you face and studied your features as you slept.Â
âI wonât ever let anyone hurt you again, Y/N. Never again,â he whispered.
____ 7 days had gone by since you had talked with Garrison.Â
He confessed to never having any blackmail against you. You were safe from that at least. He also went radio silent and refused to talk to anyone. Even you. You werenât complaining though. He could rot in hell for the things he did. You werenât even bothered about the things that he did to you. It was what he did to everyone else. They deserve justice, and after going to court and having the judge sentencing him to jail for the rest of his life, that would be the justice they got. Of course, it would be under Shield jurisdiction, and he would also be held in Shieldâs prison.Â
You were fully healed now, but were taking it easy. Everyone gave you your space when you asked for it unlike last time. Steve and you grew close and every night consisted of him cuddling you to sleep. He was your life vest at the end of this, and you never wanted to drown again.Â
You had about 4 more days of vacation left before you had to return to work, and as much as you wanted to go back early, Steve and the rest of the crew convinced you to take advantage of the time off.Â
The last two days have been more relaxed and less focused on thinking about everything that had happened recently. As much as you wanted to, going to the court and hearing what Garrison was going to be doing for the rest of his life, it lifted a giant weight off your shoulders and you felt you could somewhat rest now.Â
Last night while you and Steve were going to bed, he asked you on a date. A real one. Since you haven't really had an official one other than the ball, but that wasnât as intimate.
He said it was a surprise, and to dress casual. So after getting a few more details from Nat, who was helping him set it up, she said a nice sundress would do.Â
He was going to be picking you up from your room at the compound in about 10 minutes and Wanda, Nat, and you were going back and forth on two dresses.Â
âSo the red one then? Weâve decided on the red one?â you asked going back to the closet.
âYeah! I like red better anyway!â Wanda shouted.Â
âI think itâll fit the theme better too.â Nat muttered, but you could still hear her.
âTheme?â you asked changing in the bathroom with it cracked open.Â
âDonât worry about it! Itâll be fun,â Nat said.
âNow Iâm worrying because youâre making this sound a lot more important than I thought to begin with,â you said zipping it and coming back out.Â
âYou look great Y/N. Absolutely stunning.â Nat said changing the subject. You shot her a bitch face. âSeriously, donât think too much of it. Itâs just a date.â
âItâs a date with Captain America,â you mumbled grabbing your necklace and putting it on as you spoke.Â
âYeah, but he has to worry about going on a date with Y/N Erskine. I think if anyone needs to be worried, itâs him,â Wanda teased winking at you.
âSureeeee...â you dragged out. Before you could worry more to them, you heard the knocking on your door.
âY/N? Itâs Steve.âÂ
âWow, what a gentleman,â Nat rolled her eyes.Â
You threw a pillow at her from the chair you were by. She laughed and dodged it like the pro she was.Â
âYeah, Iâm-â you started to respond, but remembered a last detail. âOh, shoot. I forgot lipstick. Can you guys let him in while I put it on?â you asked running to the bathroomÂ
âI guess we donât have a choice,â Nat huffed.
She walked over to the door and opened it to Steve with a bouquet of flowers in his hand and slight nervous blush on his cheeks.
âHey Y/N-,â he paused looking at the red head in front of him. âYouâre not Y/N.â
âNo, but are those for me? How sweet!â Nat said grabbing them and walking back in the room as she sniffed them. âYou shouldnât have Steven,â she mocked.Â
âThose are for Y/N, Nat. Where is she?â he said looking around for you.
âSheâs doing the last bit of her make up. Sheâll be done in a second,â Wanda smiled. âYou nervous Cap?â
âNo,â Steve answered a little too quickly to sound convincing.Â
âSureeeâŚâ Nat mumbled as she sniffed the flowers and sat on the bed.
âHey,â Steve was about to say something sassy back, but then the bathroom door opened.
âHey Steven. You ready?â you asked coming out and smiling at him as you went for your purse in the corner of the room.Â
âI-uh-â he stuttered as he studied how you looked.Â
You had your hair in loose but bold waves, a subtle red lipstick on, make up simple but enough to enhance all you features. Then the dress? Oh the dress. It was something that was definitely vintage and couldâve been worn back in the 40âs or 50âs, but somehow you were making it work for this decade too.Â
âIs that a yes?â you giggled coming up to him and holding your purse in your hand as you swung it over your shoulder.
âOh! Yeah! Yes. Iâm ready if you are,â he smiled finally looking you in the eyes. âI, uh, I brought flowers,â he stumbled still looking at you but not moving.
âYou did?â you asked not seeing them in his hands.Â
âYeah,â he answered still not moving. Then he snapped out of it as you raised an eyebrow with concern. âNat!â he shouted, turning to your friend who was sitting on the wall of your bed.
âRight,â she laughed getting up and walking over to you with bouquet. âHere you are my lady,â she teased.
âThanks Nat,â you laughed taking the sunflowers mixed with other smaller flowers. âThese are beautiful Steve. How did you know these were my favorites?â you sniffed them.Â
âResearch,â he answered proudly. âShall we?â he asked, extending his arm ever so the gentleman.
âWe shall.â you laughed playing along. âNat? Wanda? Can one of you put these in a vase for me?â You passed on the bundle of flowers to Wanda who was closest and she took them with a smile.
âSure thing. Weâll see you guys later. Have a good time,â she smiled.
âYeah. A good time,â Nat winked effectively getting a shove from the other red head which only made her laugh.
Steve and You both sent her a glare. Yours more playful than his, but a glare nonetheless.Â
Once you were out of the compound, you finally asked the question youâve been wanting answered for a while.
âSo, whatâs the plan Cap?â you asked bumping hips with him as you two walked arm and arm.Â
âItâs supposed to be a surprise, but I guess I can give you a clue,â he said bumping you gently back. You giggled and his stomach fluttered at the sound. âIf youâre not careful, Iâll give it all away if you keep giggling like that.â
âI donât giggle,â you said, unsuccessfully laughing again.
âSure you donâtâŚâ he teased. âJust tell me!â you chuckled. âWhatâs on the agenda?â
âOk, ok!â he laughed with you as he looked down at you before looking ahead again. âThereâs a nice little hiding spot on in the back of the compound. Not many people know about it, and itâs one of my favorite places to hideout. I have something set up for us over there.â
âI love it already,â you hummed resting your head on his shoulder as you walked.Â
He looked down and he could feel his heart physically melt with how you just being there made him feel. He was a lucky guy to have someone like you on his arm.Â
Some small talk later and a few blocks of walking, you finally made it to your destination. You turned into a hidden wooden area, and about 20 yards in, it opened into this wide field that was spread out with wild flowers, and trees every other spot for shade.Â
It was one of the most unreal things you could imagine, and you understood now why Steve would want to use this as his safe haven. It had a calming effect as soon as you stepped in and just gave you this overwhelming feeling of joy looking at it.Â
âThis is- itâs-â you couldnât find the words. âThis is absolutely-â
âPerfect?â he asked making you turn to him. You realized that he wasnât looking at the view, but was instead looking at you the whole time. âYeah. Yeah it is,â he grinned.Â
You blushed at his meaning and turned sheepishly around to where you could take your surroundings all in.
âI would have never guessed Shield had something like this. I thought this site was all buildings and technology,â you said taking more steps in.Â
You felt Steve come up behind you and move to interlace his fingers with yours.Â
âSo does everyone else. Which meansâŚâ he walked over to a small little area the grass was cut down more for a sitting area under a tree. Laid out was a blanket and pillows with more flowers and what looked like a picnic basket in the corner. âNo one ever comes out here to interrupt my peace and quiet. Which also hopefully means no one will disrupt us either,â he said motioning to the blanket.
âThis is too sweet Steve. Truly, this is beautiful,â you smiled walking up to him and throwing your arms around his neck.
Caught by surprise, he took a second to respond, but eventually squeezed you back molding you into his figure.Â
As you pulled back you noticed you were only inches from each other's faces. You both looked back and forth between each other's eyes, and before you knew it you were both leaning in and igniting a sparky kiss.
Magic. Thatâs what it felt like. Straight magic. Something that shouldnât be possible, but somehow it was. You both fell into the others hold and never wanted to separate. That is until you both needed a breath.
âIâve been wanting to do that again since the of the charity ball,â Steve breathed out, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead on yours.
âNever had a good time toâŚâ you chuckled.
âIâm glad we do now,â he smiled at you as he pulled back keeping a hand on your cheek.Â
Again, you caught yourselves staring at one another and standing in comfortable silence.
âWe should probably eat the food before it goes bad right?â you asked with a smirk.
âI mean, I had other things in mind, but yeah. I think youâre right. We can come back to this,â he laughed pulling you back to picnic he had sat up.
You two talked and laughed for the next couple of hours. Taking this time to really get to know each other. He told you childhood stories of him and Bucky back in your time. How he met your father and Peggy. Then war stories about him and Bucky. Then how after Buckyâs supposed death, grieving he went through, and how he grew closer with Peggy. You both reminisced about your old friend, and shed a few tears at how she had aged and eventually passed away. She was a mentor, sister, and friend to you where she was a first love and friend to Steve.Â
It was nice thinking back to those days and pulling the good memories out too. You two hadnât really had anyone to do that with, other than Bucky for Steve of course, but thinking back to the 40âs-50âs was kinda nice.Â
Then you got on the topic of how you both had grown over the decades. You adapting to each era change, and him basically skipping them all and having to adjust to a whole new world. In the end you both came out stronger, wiser, and more understanding of a lot of things.Â
Steve was in the middle of telling yet another embarrassing story of Bucky doing something stupid when his phone rang.
âWhoâs calling?â you asked taking another sip of wine.Â
âI donât know. I told them not to call or bother us until we came back,â he huffed checking the caller ID. âTony,â he groaned. He paused debating picking it up, but decided against it. âHe can wait a couple of hours,â he said putting the phone away and leaning back to you. âWhere was I-?â The phone started buzzing again. âIâll kill him.â Steve gritted grabbing the phone.
He was about to decline him again, but you had a gut feeling something was up.
âI would answer it. If Tony is one thing, itâs persistent. Heâs not going to give up until you answer,â you laughed.Â
âYouâre not wrong,â he said taking a deep breath. Clicking the green button he brought the phone to his ear. âTony,â he stated.
You just heard muffling on the other end as you grabbed the wine bottle and went to top off your drink.Â
âWait, slow down- What-?â Steve said confused causing you to get suspicious. âOk, ok, what exactly did he find?â
You watched intently to see if you could pick up on the context of the conversation.Â
âHe what?!â Steve shouted with his eyes getting bigger. He turned to you almost as if the conversation was about you. âOk, yeah. Weâll head that way right now⌠Yeah, yeah be there in 15 minutes.â
He let out a long breath as he hung up the phone and put it in his pocket.Â
âWhereâre we going?â you smiled taking another sip of wine looking into the field on last time.Â
âThe lab,â Steve answered. You could hear the tension in his voice. Something big was happening.Â
âSteve-?â you turned to him, concern on your face.Â
âBanner thinks he found a cure.â
Chapter 28
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dead and (almost) gone
Request:Â Anonymous said:Â Hi lovely!! I was wondering if we could get something really angsts with Nikki? Maybe a fight that gets out of hand but he realizes he loves you and doesnât want to ruin things with you? Or something really sweet with Mick? Or both as separate requests if youâre up for it haha
Fandom: the dirt
Words: 2.6k
Pairing: nikki sixx x reader
Warnings: drugs, needles, overdose, a n g s t
âItâs a sad night for rockânâroll. We just received unconfirmed reports that MĂśtley CrĂźe bassist Nikki Sixx has died in Hollywood this evening of an apparent drug overdose.â
The reporter said more, but you didnât manage to absorb any of the words the TV was pushing at you. Instead, your heart was hammering in your chest so heavily that your heartbeat seemed to be the only thing that you were capable of hearing.
You had talked to Nikki yesterday on the phone, and he had seemed so excited to see you in a couple of days. You had jokingly told him to take it easy until you got there â jokingly, because he had been so good lately â and now you had to hear on the news that he was dead. It didnât quite seem to sink in.
Nikki was dead.
He was dead.
He was dead.
A sob escaped your lips before you managed to put a hand in front of your mouth, and before you knew it you were sinking to the floor, arms wrapped around your knees.
You allowed yourself to stay like that for ten minutes before the logical side of your brain took over, and without trying to think too much, you grabbed your bag and your coat and called a cab for the airport.
You had met Nikki a couple of years ago when they were playing a concert in New York, and you had been immediately smitten with the raven-haired bassist. It had taken almost another year until you two finally managed to find your way together, between his touring and uninterrupted stream of groupies, and your unwillingness to follow him around the world and objection to turning a blind eye to all the girls he was sleeping with.
But then something had changed, and all of a sudden you had found him in front of your door even though they had been in the middle of their tour, and somehow you had managed to find your way together. And since then, as far as you could tell and with a few exceptions, he had been good.
Of course he was still taking drugs and drinking, but never to the extent that he used to when you first met. At least, not that you knew of. And now you were on the way to the airport to fly to LA because apparently, he had died of an overdose.
You were on autopilot as you went to the desk to convince the clerk to exchange your ticket for a flight that was leaving as soon as possible, and after an hour, you were finally able to go through security check.
The next few hours passed in a blur. You boarded your flight, you didnât remember what you did for six hours while on the flight apart from staring blindly out the window, landed in Los Angeles just in time for the sunrise, and somehow managed to find your way to Mickâs house, because for whatever reason he was the first person that came to your mind.
You had a speech planned. Well, not so much a speech as just something to say, but when Mick opened the door, all words left you, and everything you managed to do was look at him with a clenched jaw.
âDead?â you managed to say eventually, and all you could do was cover your mouth with your hand and press your eyes shut, willing yourself not to fall apart.
âHey, no, no,â Mick started, putting both his hands on your shoulders and trying to get you to look at him. âYou didnât hear?â
You looked up at him in confusion but didnât manage to answer in a proper sentence.
âHeâs not dead,â Mick told you vehemently, and it took a moment for the words to register with you.
âW-what do you mean?â
âThey managed to get him back,â Mick emphasized. âHeâs not dead.â
âWhat?â
âHeâs not dead,â Mick repeated, his eyes trained on you intently, trying to get you to understand. âI saw him last night. Heâs very much alive.â
Hope was unrelenting as it worked itself up through your body, and you couldnât help but reach out, grabbing Mick by the arm, desperate for him to be right. âWhat?â
âHe died, but the paramedics were able to resuscitate him.â
You didnât know what to say. Much like last night, you were feeling so overwhelmed that your body was going numb and you started feeling nauseous. All of this was too much, and you werenât sure how much more you were able to handle.
âHey, come on,â Mick started while he reached behind him to grab his keys from the side table, and then closed the door behind him. âIâll drive you to him.â
You nodded and followed him to his car, and you spent the whole way to Nikki in silence. You hadnât been able to believe that Nikki was dead, and yet at the same time you werenât allowing yourself to believe he was still alive either.
By the time you reached Nikkiâs place, you werenât able to stop your hands from shaking.
âYou want me to wait?â Mick asked.
âNo, Iâm fine,â you told him, but you knew that he would wait anyway even before you heard him turn off the motor as you were making your way toward the front door.
You knocked loudly and tried to suppress the increasingly unbearable knot in your throat, and it didnât help that even after the third knock, no one was answering. âNikki,â you shouted as you eventually grabbed the door handle, intending to rattle the door, but you were surprised to find the door unlocked.
âNikki?â you repeated as you slowly walked in and closed the door behind you. The usual loud house was eerily quiet, and you found the hairs in the back of your neck stand up as you walked through the house, trying to locate Nikki but terrified of what you might find.
The living room was empty except for thrown over whisky bottles and full ashtrays, and so was the kitchen and the bathroom. The closer you came to the bedroom, the more everything in you seemed to writhe against going any further. And the longer you didnât get an answer, the more you believed that Mick might have been wrong after all.
When you eventually did cross the threshold of the bedroom door, you let out a breath as you found that this room, too, was empty, but it only lasted for about two seconds, when you spotted a pair of feet in the mirror of the open closet door.
Nikki had a huge walk in closet, and this is where you found him, sitting on the ground, back propped up against the closet, eyes closed, a needle still sticking to his vein and blood running down his arm.
It took your body a couple of seconds until it seemed to catch up with what you were seeing, and when it did, another sob escaped your lips as you rushed over to him.
âNikki!â you exclaimed as you started shaking his shoulders, overcome by panic and unable to think clearly. âJesus Christ, Nikki!â
To your surprise, he opened his eyes not long after you started shaking him. The look in his eyes was vacant, and it took a few seconds until he was able to focus his gaze on you and recognition dawned in his expression.
âWhat the fuck?â you asked him when he remained silent.
âHey,â he groaned, and you could tell that he was still not quite there.
âYou died!â you grimaced, your worry quickly replaced by white hot anger. âI flew here thinking you were still dead and then Mick told me you werenât, and now I have to find you like this!â
You gestured toward the needle in his arm, and it seemed to be the first time he became aware of it himself. He looked down and pulled it out, slowly and carefully, like he was still in a daze.
âIs this what itâs going to be like now?â you asked incredulously. âMe waiting by the TV every day to find out whether you died or not?â
âI justâŚI donâtââ
âBecause that is whatâs going to happen! Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, but if you keep going like this, you will die.â
You got up again and took a step back. It took Nikki a while before he managed to follow you with his gaze, and there was still a glassy kind of quality in his eyes. âI got it underââ
âDo not say you have it under control,â you interrupted him. âBecause you clearly donât!â You had to pause another moment before going on, and this time, you anger was replaced by exhaustion. You were so tired. âIâm not doing this anymore. I canât do this anymore. If this is going to be your lifestyle, then Iâm not going to be a part of it.â You paused and gave him a moment to react, but all he could do was look at you, trying to say something but not quite finding the words.
You took another deep breath, knowing what you needed to do but finding it hard to actually do it, especially seeing him like this. âWeâve talked about this. Iâm not going to just stand by while you self-destruct. I canât,â you paused. âIâm sorry.â
You gave him another chance to say something â anything â but when he didnât, you turned around and walked away before he could see you cry.
âJust drive,â you told Mick as you got back into the car, and you were grateful that he didnât ask any questions before putting the car in gear and pulling away from Nikkiâs house.
You didnât allow yourself to look back in the mirror when you left, and it was the last time you saw him in almost four months.
You went back to New York and tried to get on with your life as best as possible. You didnât hear from Nikki, and you didnât reach out, but you regularly checked the news to make sure he was okay, and judging by his lack of appearance in any of the outlets, he seemed to be.
You focused your energy on your job and invested more time in your friends, and by the time you found him sitting on your doorstop more than three months after his overdose, you had done such a good job distracting yourself from him that you were genuinely surprised.
You were coming home from work, and when you headed up the stairs to your apartment and saw him, you had to stop in your tracks. Nikki lookedâŚdifferent.
His skin looked less dead, his eyes were wide and aware, and there were no bags under his eyes. He also seemed to have gained some weight, which he desperately needed.
âHi,â he said eventually, almost defensively.
You could only stare at him. âWhat are you doing here?â you managed to break out of your initial shock eventually.
âWhat I shouldâve done months ago.â
You swallowed. âWeâre not doing this out here.â
Nikki nodded and took a step to the side, and you avoided eye contact as you climbed the rest of the stairs and pulled out your keys. You tried to suppress the shaking in your hands as you unlocked your door, and when you went inside you were tempted to walk straight to your alcohol cabinet and pour yourself a drink, but you stopped yourself.
âSo?â you asked after an awkward silence.
âI went to rehab,â Nikki started. He was standing at one side of your living room and didnât come closer, respecting the distance you had put in between the two of you. âIâm 90 days clean.â
âGood for you.â
âWe talked a lot about acknowledging our mistakes and asking for forgivenessââ
âNikki, donât,â you interrupted him, but he didnât accept it.
âNo, please. I know you might not want to hear it, but I need to say it. Okay?â
You stared at him for a moment, clenching your jaw, before you eventually nodded.
âHow I treated you?â Nikki continued. âIt wasnât fair, and it wasnât right, and it wasnât a reflection of how I felt about you. Feel about you,â he corrected himself, and you had to narrow your eyes. This didnât sound at all like the Nikki you knew.
âI know I donât deserve a second chance, or a third chance for that matter, but I need you to know that I am genuinely sorry.â
You needed a moment before finding the right words. âHow do I know that it wonât happen again?â
Nikki shrugged unhappily. âYou canât.â
âNikki,â you started, but he interrupted you again.
âI donât need an answer right now,â he said, and then started shaking his head, breaking eye contact for the first time. âI didnât used to be able to feel anything. I was just craving the next fix or the next high. But now,â he continued and looked at you again. âNow, I feel everything. And it feels like shit looking at you and knowing what I did to you. And if you let me, I will make it up. I will try to make it up every day.â
You had to chew on your lip to keep your emotions in check, but when you spoke, it still came out hoarsely. âDo you know what it felt like hearing you were dead from the news?â
âIâm sorry.â
âDo you know what it felt like to come to your house and finding you with that needle in your arm?â you asked, even more agitated than before.
âIâm sorry,â Nikki repeated.
âStop saying youâre sorry!â you exclaimed and suddenly took a couple of steps to close the distance between the two of you, and before you could stop yourself, you were punching his arm, and then his chest, and then all of a sudden you were on the ground, sobbing, while Nikki had his arms wrapped around you and held you close.
âIâm so sorry,â he kept repeating as you tried to get your emotions under control.
You had known that it would be difficult to date him, but you never had expected it to be as difficult as it had actually turned out to be. And when you were finally starting to get over him, he had to show up at your door and tell you all the things that you had needed to hear months ago.
You didnât know what to do, and you knew that you wouldnât be able to forgive him right away, but as you were sobbing into his chest, you realized you also knew you couldnât picture your life without him. As messed up as it was, Nikki was a part of you, and after everything youâve been through together, you knew your relationship deserved a second chance, no matter how long it would take for you to get over almost losing him.
And if he was true to his word, he would be patient. You took that as consolidation as you held on tighter to him, grasping his shirt with your hand, not intending to let go anytime soon.
âIâm sorry. I love you,â he whispered as you cried. âI love you so fucking much.â
It wouldnât be today, and it wouldnât be tomorrow, but you figured eventually, you two would be okay.
tags: @supernaturalvikingwhore  @miserablecunt  @sighsophiia  @fandomshit6000  @flizaa @hi-my-name-is-riley  @electradestiny  @starlalove  @kingbouji3  @sweetshutter  @baiabouk @swoopygorlÂ
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Stay (Tom Holland x reader)
summary: four times tom proves to you heâs not going anywhere, and one time you prove it to him
warnings: none
words: 2,000
pairings: tom holland x reader
a/n: iâm a slut for fluffy 4 and 1 fics and i also havenât written anything for tom in a while, enjoy :-)
1.
You woke up in the middle of the night to the bed moving. It was still too dark to see anything, so you blindly reached a hand out, expecting a body but only feeling empty sheets. As your eyes adjusted, you could see Tom getting up and creeping towards the door, quietly opening it and slipping out of the room.
You could feel the disappointment in your throat, stuck there like a large pill. You chided yourself for being foolish enough to think heâd stay. Two dates, no matter how nice theyâd been, certainly didnât mean anything, especially in this day and age.
But heâd been so nice, was the thing. Heâd opened every door for you, held your hand, listened to your stories with interest, and when he kissed you, he kissed like you had all the time in the world, slow and leisurely like there was nothing heâd rather be doing.
And now he was gone.
Tom hadnât seemed to you like the type of guy who would leave a hookup in the middle of the night, but people were surprising sometimes.
Sighing, you closed your eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but the sound of a toilet flushing made you open them again. Wait a second. Your heartbeat quickened as you listened.
There were footsteps, and then the door was opening again and Tom was coming back in, trying to make as little noise as possible. He saw you and smiled.
âOh, hey,â he said, his voice scratchy with sleep. âDid I wake you up? Iâm sorry.â
âItâs okay,â you said, returning the smile. You wondered how you could possibly put into words how happy you were to be woken up just then.
He climbed back into bed and flung an arm around your waist, snuggling up behind you and resting his head in the crook of your neck. âIâm not going anywhere. Just had tâpee,â he mumbled.
âIâm glad it was successful.â
He chuckled. âI forgot to ask if you like pancakes.â
âI do like pancakes.â
âMâkay. Iâll make you some in the morning if you want.â He yawned and pressed a small kiss underneath your ear. âGood night.â
âGood night,â you said softly, and when you woke up the next morning it was to the smell of coffee and the sight of a boy standing at your stove, moving around your kitchen so effortlessly it was like he belonged there.
2.
A soft tap on your front door woke you from your already fitful nap. âCome in,â you croaked, your voice hoarse. You were curled up on your couch, too exhausted and achy to get up and make the short walk to your bed.
Youâd come down with a cold a little over a week ago. While it wasnât anything major, it still left you with a stuffy nose, sore throat, and a bad cough. In short, you were miserable.
You expected the visitor to be your mom, just checking in for the millionth time, but it was Tom.
âHey,â you said, surprised. âWhat are you doing here?â
âChecking on you, of course,â he said like it was obvious. âHow are you feeling?â
âLike shit,â you admitted.
âYeah, you look it,â Tom said with a grin. You rolled your eyes as he walked past you, planting a kiss on top of your head. âJust kidding, of course.â
âWhatâs in the box?â you asked, referring to the big cardboard box heâd brought with him. You turned around to watch him go into your kitchen, putting the box on the counter.
âHomemade soup,â he said, pulling the items out as he listed them, âtea, cough drops, tissues, crossword puzzles, and movies.â He grinned proudly. âItâs like a care package, get it?â
You blinked at him. âYou did all of that for me?â Â
âYeah, of course,â Tom said, giving you a funny look. âI also brought some socks, âcause I know you donât have any on right now.â
You scowled, mostly because he was right. You allowed him to lift your feet up and put the socks on you. âSo Iâll just heat this stuff up and then weâll be good to go,â he said, turning back to go into the kitchen.
âWhat? What do you mean?â you said, sitting up.
âWhat do you mean, what do I mean?â Tom asked.
âYou canât stay.â
âAnd why not?â
âBecause Iâm all gross,â you said. âAnd youâll get sick too.â
Tom rolled his eyes at you, apparently not even wanting to dignify those reasons with an answer. You sighed, figuring there was no use arguing with him. You lay back down, listening to the sounds of him moving around in your kitchen.
A few minutes later, he climbed over the back of the couch, fitting himself in so he was lying behind you and handing you a hot mug of tea. âCan we watch Love Actually?â you asked hopefully as he turned on the TV.
âUh, duh.â
Tom put on the movie and you watched it in amicable silence. Between his body heat and the blanket you were both snuggled under, you were feeling nice and warm again, and the hot tea was doing wonders for your throat.
You tilted your head back to look at him, almost in wonder. Sometimes you just couldnât believe that he was real, that he cared about you enough to bring you tea and movies and cuddle with you when you were sick.
He noticed you staring and raised his eyebrows. âWhat?â
âNothing,â you said. âJust . . . thank you for being here.â
Tom smiled, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your shoulder. ââCourse. Iâm not going anywhere.â
3.
A loud crack of thunder startled you awake, followed by the bright flash of lightning that lit up the entire room.
Quite frankly, you couldnât see the appeal in thunderstorms. They were too loud and unsettling for you. How anyone could possibly find them soothing was a mystery to you.
Tom had fallen asleep fast, claiming the storms didnât bother him. He was snoring a little, which would annoy you if it was anyone else, but because it was him you liked it. For some reason, the sound of his breathing was the greatest thing in the world.
It didnât do you much good now, though. Not when the thunder was shaking the house and the knot in your stomach was growing tighter by the second.
Youâre safe, idiot, you chided yourself. It canât hurt you. Youâd been telling yourself this for years, though, and it never worked. You knew Tom wouldnât care if you woke him up, but he was so tired lately. You wanted to let him sleep.
It didnât matter anyway, though, because a few minutes later he rolled over, groaning a little. âBabe?â he asked, still half-asleep. âYou okay?â
âYeah,â you said, but your shaky voice betrayed you.
âHmm.â Tom didnât say anything else, but he moved closer to you. You were both lying on your stomachs facing each other, so he draped his arm across your back, slipping his hand under your shirt to trace gentle patterns onto your skin. âIâll protect you.â
You smiled a little. âIâm sorry if I woke you up.â
âSâokay,â he said. âI had a feeling anyway.â He kissed your shoulder, resting his face there. âDonât worry. Iâm not going anywhere.â
âI love you,â you said, already relaxing at the feeling of his fingers drawing shapes on your back.
âLove you more,â he answered easily. Thunder still crackled on throughout the night, but you fell asleep with Tom wrapped around you, protecting you until you woke up.
4.
The air was so thick with tension it was almost like the house itself was holding its breath.
This was the first fight you and Tom had ever had that didnât end within the hour. This wasnât just a difference of opinions or blowing off steam. This was explosive.
To say you felt guilty was an understatement. Youâd been having a shitty day, the type where everything anybody did, no matter how innocent, set you off.
Tom had been patient at first, ignoring your snotty remarks. But eventually, heâd gotten pissed too, and soon it escalated to the two of you shouting at each other from opposite sides of the room until you couldnât take it anymore, going into your bedroom and slamming the door so hard the walls shook.
That had been a few hours ago. The house was quiet. You didnât know if Tom was still here or not, but you assumed he wasnât. Why would he stay? Youâd been a total brat.
Despite your best efforts, you could feel tears slipping past your closed eyes and sliding down your cheeks. You desperately wanted to call or text him and say you were sorry, but resisted. He probably didnât want to hear from you right now, maybe even ever. It was best to just give him space.
You werenât sure how long you lay there before you heard your bedroom door slowly open. You opened your eyes and rolled over as Tom slid into bed next to you.
âHey,â he said simply.
âHey,â you said, confused. âWhat are you doing here?â
He furrowed his eyebrows. âWhat do you mean? I never left.â
âYou didnât?â
âNo. Of course not. Why would I leave?â
âBecause I was a brat,â you said, feeling your throat get tight with shame as you spoke. âAnd I yelled at you and I took my anger out on you when you did nothing wrong. Iâm really sorry.â
To your surprise, he merely shrugged. âItâs okay. Everybody has bad days. And I yelled at you too, so Iâm sorry too.â
âI shouldnât have acted like that, though. Iâm sorry.â
Tom smiled a little. âYou said that already.â
And just like that it was over and he was pulling you close, kissing you gently and lacing his hand through yours, playing with your fingers. âTold you Iâm not going anywhere,â he said quietly.
You didnât know what it was about this time. Maybe it was just that all of the other times heâd said it were finally starting to add up. Maybe it was because youâd been waking up next to him for the past 365 days, or because you knew that inside his wallet was a picture of you, and he knew what shows you liked to watch when you were sick and the kind of shampoo you used and your most-played songs on Spotify.
But this time, you believed him. Tom really wasnât leaving.
+1.
You came home one summer evening to Tom sitting on your front steps. The setting sun cast a beautiful light on him, making his entire body glow.
âHey,â you said, happy to see him. âWhat are you doing?â
âWaiting for you,â he answered.
âHere I am,â you said, holding your arms out. âHowâs it going?â
He shrugged, and you noticed he looked exhausted. âYou okay?â you asked, sitting down next to him and stretching your legs out.
Slowly, he shook his head. âOkay,â you said, nodding. âYou wanna talk about it?â
âNot right now,â he said quietly. In the fading light, you could see streaks on his face where tears had dried. You reached out and touched one gently, and he closed his eyes.
âOkay,â you said again. âThatâs okay.â You slid your hand into his, squeezing once and feeling him squeeze back. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling how warm he was from sitting in the sun.
Tom rarely got like this, withdrawn and melancholy, but when he did it hurt you like you were the one going through it. You were so used to him being the strong one that when the time came for the roles to switch, you were always afraid that you werenât as good at it.Â
âIs there anything I can do?â you asked. âDo you want something to eat? Or do you wanna take a bath?â
âNo,â was all Tom said, but his voice was so heavy.
The two of you sat there silently. You tried to think of something to say or do that could possibly make this better.Â
âIâm sorry,â you said finally.Â
âFor what?â
âI donât know. I just wish there was something I could do to help you.â
Tom didnât answer for a second. Then, he said, âJust stay. Thatâs all I need.â
Despite everything, you smiled a little. You turned your head, kissing the base of his throat. âDonât worry,â you said. âIâm not going anywhere.â
#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#tom holland imagine#tom holland oneshot#tom holland fanfic#writing
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Phoenix Wright was used to operating on the fly when it came to his relationship with Miles Edgeworth. Â Sometimes it was smooth sailing, sometimes it was harsh words that needed to be said, and sometimes it was just harsh words. Sometimes it was making up, sometimes it was two angry men trying to navigate a small room without acknowledging the otherâs presence, and sometimes it was amazing sex. Often it was a mixture of those things. Phoenix was getting used to falling asleep with just a few inches of their backs touching, mirroring each other like a large antisocial butterfly spread out over the sheets. Â Heâd learned from experience that they normally woke up in each otherâs arms. Â If being in crisis was normal, then at least pulling off miraculous turnabouts at the last second were nearly as easy to count on.
Todayâs crisis began with a panicked call from a detective whoâs main skills were misinterpreting facts and jumping to conclusions. Â He had built an entire career on people not going through with their threats to fire him. Â âListen, pall, no oneâs supposed to know about this, not even me-â he began.
â-especially you, letâs be honest.â Â Phoenix interrupted sardonically. Heâd lost count of the number of times Gumshoeâs well-meant tips had made things worse for himself or the prosecutor heâd been paired with. Â He always told himself that next time he wouldnât act until heâd heard the truth straight from the source, and yet, he didnât hang up the phone.
âWell, youâre a close second, pal, and at least I donât have to sleep on the couch every time heâs angry at me! Â Anyway, itâs about Mr Edgeworth, of course.â Â As if the two had anything in common besides their dangerously low incomes and their mutual obsession over a certain brooding prosecutor. Â âHeâs been making calls all over Europe the last few days, and heâs just about to leave for the airport! Â He even had fake appointments for the rest of the day!â Â
Phoenix felt his stomach drop.  âBut, still,â he started, trying to force normal words out of his suddenly dry mouth.  âThat doesnât mean anything.  He could be picking someone up, orâŚâ  His mind was suddenly hyper-fixated on the conversation last night where Miles had declined to meet for dinner.  He simply wasnât available.  He didnât offer a reason, and Phoenix knew better than to ask.  There was always tomorrow.
Until one day there wasnât.
And Gumshoe didnât need to know it, but itâs been weeks since heâd seen the inside of Milesâ bedroom.  Itâs not that theyâre fighting, not technicallyâŚ
âŚFighting would probably be better.  They were hardly talking.  It wasnât the silence of two angry men who needed time to let their egos calm down before they could make up, either.  It was two men who wanted to talk to each other desperately, that had more to say than they knew how to express, two men who were (hopefully) still very much in love but overwhelmed by the circumstances of life.  Troubles beyond even what they could have expected, even after everything theyâd already been through.  An elephant in the room that he wasnât sure they could surmount.
A tiny elephant with brown hair and a contagious laugh and a penchant for magic tricks.
Phoenix himself had been the one to introduce a stranger into the relationship, without the consent and certainly without the approval of the other party. Â That would have been enough to throw the status of their relationship into question even without the far-reaching scandal that had destroyed his career and was currently drawing his partnerâs ethics into question. Â He had been trying to remain optimistic, for his new daughterâs sake even when he couldnât bring himself to believe he deserved for things to go well, but hearing the words out loud made him painfully aware of how unrealistic it would be to just assume things could be smoothed out. A large part of him had expected this weeks ago. Â âListen, Gumshoe,â he finally continued, trying to keep his voice calm, Â âthereâs a lot going on right now. Â Thank you for the heads up, but if heâs made up his mind-â
âBut I donât think he has! Â Youâve had him moping for weeks, but heâs been different the last few days. Â Yâknow, quiet, nervous, jumping at stuff, like he does when heâs really lost in his thinking! Â I think heâs about to make a really big decision. Â And, yâknow, pal,â here his voice got a little lower. Â âYou ainât been that good for him recently, but still I think you should be there. Â Ya gotta try, anyway.â
âIâŚâ  Hope wasnât what he needed right now.  Hope had gotten him everywhere in life: his profession, his public standing, his relationship, but it had let him down.  Right now what he needed to do was work on managing expectations, and that included accepting that Miles Edgeworth wasnât actually obligated to take on the role of father to go with his newly acquired reputation as a prosecutor dating a disbarred attorney.  Hope was selfish.  âHe should do whatâs best for him.â
There was a very long pause, during which he swore he could hear the detectiveâs mood switch at least three times. Â âLook, pal, if I can be frank,â he finally started, an uncharacteristic edge to his voice, âIf youâre done with Mr Edgeworth, you should just tell him. Â This ainât fair.â
âDone with him? Me?! Listen, Detective,â
âNo, you listen! I ainât seen you come to his office in two weeks-â
â-You think Iâm welcome there?!â Â Phoenix snapped.
Gumshoe didnât even pause,  âYou think heâs welcome here?!  You think nobody mentions you just because you ainât been visiting lately?!  Mr. Edgeworth has put his life into this job for years, he canât just drop everything and run because you made a mistake, and,â Phoenix was cut off before he could protest, âI donât even care whether you did it or not, you made a mistake and you gotta own up to that!  Mr Edgeworth defends you a dozen times a day, why canât you speak for yourself once in a while?!â  There was a disturbingly wet sniffle.  âIf I could do anything to help him through this, I wouldnât even question it!  I⌠Iâd even call the chief stupid!â
It took a second for Phoenix to finish cycling through the emotions the sudden rant had caused. Â He found his pride was most hurt by the fact that he had no comeback to Gumshoeâs logic. Â He must have gotten better at lying to himself if he could get himself to believe things even Gumshoe wouldnât buy. Â âListen, Detective,â he began warily, âif Iâm the reason heâs suffering, why on earth do you think seeing me would help anything?â
There was another long pause, and then Gumshoe replied in an extremely disappointed voice, âI dunno, Pal. Â I guess I just assumed you two were in love.â Â A beep ended the conversation.
It was difficult to process what had just happened. Â He had just been told off by Gumshoe about his love life. Â Detective Gumshoe, whoâd pined after Maggey for years without ever making a single move that didnât make things drastically worse. Â Gumshoe, who only followed after Miles and did what he was told, who wouldnât stand up for himself if his paycheck or job or even his life was on the line.
Gumshoe, who was always willing to risk everything for his boss, regardless of whether or not he was benefiting from it. Â Who trusted his boss to make the right decision every time. Â Who, in his own way, had loved Miles for almost a decade, probably more than the poor detective even loved himself.
Love. Â He and Miles respected each other when it came down to the line, trusted each other implicitly, and definitely had an almost physical attraction. Â If you had asked him a month ago if they were in love, he probably would have just responded with a self-depreciating smile, âHereâs hopping.â Â Now, the question made his stomach turn sour with anxiety. Â Love? Â Not blindly like Dollie or fatherly like with Trucy. Â What he had with Miles was something strong enough that he would walk through fire without even questioning whether it was necessary. It was something like a sharp cliff, the base was sturdy and would probably survive after everything else had crumbled away, but the edge was constantly breaking down, subject to landslides, eternally changing. Â It wasnât something you could define one day and then come back expecting it to have stayed the same.
Miles was so much to him.
But what was he to Miles?
Almost distractedly, he picked up his phone off the desk. Â He would probably never understand the inner workings of Miles Edgeworth, and he was even less likely to interpret how it applied to their complicated bond, but he knew someone who deserved to be part of the dialogue. Â
Maya picked up on the third ring. Â âWhatâs up, Nick? Â Adopted another kid you need to have looked after?â Â She snickered. Â âI donât do bulk discounts, yâknow.â
âHey, Maya? Â This is weird, but can I talk to Trucy?â
âYeah, whatever. Need some advice?â she laughed, handing the phone over. Â âAt least you know who to call!â
The phone thumped a little as small hands wrestled the phone into place. Â âHi, Daddy!â
âHey, Trucy, how are you doing?â
âGreat!â Â Trucy giggled. Â âAunt Mayaâs trying to figure out how I keep making all the cookies disappear!â Â Her voice became louder and more distorted, presumably because she was cupping her hand against the phone to be secretive. Â âI ate them.â
âDonât give Aunt Maya too much trouble, okay? Â I need her to still like you enough to babysit you,â Â he joked.
âEverybody likes me!â Â she proclaimed loudly, the scuffling of a chair implying that she thought this statement was worthy of standing up. Â âIâm the amazing Trucy Wright!â
Phoenix laughed again. Â âWell, youâre Daddyâs favorite, thatâs for sure.â He paused for a second, taking a deep breath. Â âYou know Mr. Edgeworth, right?â
âYeah!â She responded enthusiastically. Â âHeâs really pretty. Â He needs a better agent. Â When we saw him on TV yesterday they didnât even center the camera on him! Â Heâs the best talent they have, they should treat him like it!â
Phoenix gave a sad half-smile to the receiver. Â âWell, Iâve heard heâs going to England.â
He heard her shift the phone excitedly. Â âDoes he have a new gig?â
âYeah, I guess. Something like that.â Â Phoenix replied.
She picked up the sadness in his voice. Â âBut youâre gonna miss him, huh?â
âYeah, Honey,â he admitted quietly, Â âa whole bunch.â
âSo, go kiss him goodbye! Donât you watch movies?!â Â She sounded as angry as a little girl could muster. Â âHeâll miss you too, you know!â
âYou really think so?â
He could hear her eyes roll.  âDaddyâŚâ she explained with exaggerated patience. âWhen you donât fit his image, he changes his image to fit you. In the business, we call that a terrible career idea, but we also call it love.â
How did she know him so well after so short a time? Â âYou know what, Honey? Â Iâll do that. Â Thanks.â
âKiss him for me too,â Â she laughed, Â âYou can kiss him on the mouth if you want, as long as you tell him that part was your idea. Â Oh, and tell him I know a guy that can help him with his sound checks! Â Heâs got a nice voice, they just need to wire him better.â
Kiss him goodbye. That wasnât too much to ask, was it?  If he managed to even find Miles, and didnât get chased off, he could kiss his boyfriend goodbye and tell him there would always a place for him here if he got lonely.  And if he didnât, well⌠Phoenix Wright had plenty of practice pining after Miles Edgeworth.  Heâd survive.
âThank you, Truce.â
âGo get him, Daddy!â
âIâll try, Sweetheart. Be nice to Aunt Maya, okay?â
âYep!â Â The call ended.
Phoenix grabbed his wallet and headed for the door, intentionally avoiding the mirror. Â He already knew Miles wasnât dating him for his looks or fashion sense or career, or anything else that came to mind. Getting his suit would only waste time and make him more recognizable to gawkers. Â If he had any chance of pulling off a miracle, his pride wasnât going to enter into things. Â In fact, the less he thought about it logically, the better. Â This was one for the heart.
â
Fortunately, it was easy to catch a shuttle to the airport from the Gatewater, and if Gumshoe had been right and Miles wasnât leaving just yet, he might even have gotten there first. Â Besides, he knew the prosecutor well enough to be confident enough that Miles would never resort to a taxi. Â He had to be storing his car, which meant more delays. Â And on an international flight, it could still be hours before he actually left.
If only his dumb ass hadnât gotten him stuck in arrivals.  It never ceased to confound him how such a huge airport could constantly manage to have the same population and hostile, zombie-eyed energy of an overcrowded high school.  He was scanning the area with growing apprehension, wondering what to do.  He could try to find departures, although the time and energy it would take to force is way against the current of humanity would mean heâd show up at the right area missing his sunglasses, most of his sanity, and possibly a few fingers, just in time to catch a glimpse of one of the nicest asses in Los Angeles passing through a metal detector behind four security fences.  Heâd look great on the news being arrested as a terrorist who jumped a counter in the name of love.  At least he knew a good defense attorneyâŚ
...Oh wait, not anymore.
He was surprised how much the realization still managed to hurt.
He could page Miles and see just how mad that made him. Â Did they even page people at airports any more? Â It would be easy enough to convince someone his piece of crap phone, but Miles would know exactly what was happening even if they didnât give his name. Â He should probably just hang his head in shame and crawl back to his office and be glad he hadnât had a chance to make things even worse. Â If this was a movie, heâd be sitting here on the brink of despair when all of a sudden a flash of magenta would catch him off guard.
A little girl in a dark pink dress happened to be taking off her coat in the corner of his vision at that exact moment and nearly gave him a heart attack. Â No, of course it wasnât Miles, because this wasnât a stupid movie and he had a feeling he wasnât anywhere near the nadir of his fall from grace anyway. Â He apologized profusely to the family he had frightened and pretended he had mistaken her mother for someone he knew because it seemed slightly less creepy than saying he thought her young daughter was his boyfriend, and made his way to the bathroom to get a hold of himself.
And there was Miles Edgeworth in the flesh. Â Tall and harried and unfairly beautiful, leaning against a suitcase that was far too large to be meant for a weekend trip. Â He was sipping tea from a national chain Phoenix knew he could hardly stand and trying badly to pretend he didnât hate everyone within a hundred yards of him. Â Phoenix slowly edged around the masses of people, trying to get closer without looking suspicious.
God, he looked tired. Â He always tended to look overworked, but this was beyond a Miles who had suffered through a hard day at work and needed a glass of wine before he was willing to talk about it. Â This was Miles on day two of a three day trial, considering a nicotine patch just to keep him awake and applying concealer in the bathroom because he was raised to be perfect and perfection didnât show up to court looking like a drug addict in a nice suit. Â This was Miles holding together because failure wasnât an option even when nothing else was a possibility anymore, and he was the Miles that always caused Phoenix and Gumshoe to hold their breath and hope this wasnât the millstone that broke the camelâs back. Â
That was the look of a man who had had three cases in the last two days appealed simply because Phoenix Wright had touched the case, and if a forger and the boyfriend of a forger had both been involved then someone needed to take a closer look.
That was entirely Phoenixâs fault, and as Gumshoe has pointed out earlier, he hadnât really been doing anything to make things better. Â And here he was, in sweat pants with a ratty old beanie pulled over his hair and his favorite pair of sunglasses that made him look like any one of thousands of people going through a scandal in the state. Â What did he have to offer? Â He wanted to run. Â
And god, did he want to kiss that man.
Hold him and kiss his tired eyes and tell him it was okay, there had been a misunderstanding and his stupid boyfriend hadnât ruined both of their lives thinking he could handle things on his own. Â Call a cab and give him a back-rub and a good meal and make sure he got a good nightâs sleep whether he wanted it or not, and maybe in the morning they could talk about their relationship if there still was one.
He was considering his options when the man with the silver hair happened to glance in his direction. Â He froze, but Miles didnât even look surprised. âGoddamn it, Gumshoeâs got to be afraid of a living wage.â He turned back like that was the end of the conversation.
Phoenix stepped forward.  âIâŚâ
âWhat did he even tell you?â
âHe just said you were leaving for the airport and if I hurried I might be able to catch you before you left.â Â Forget that kiss goodbye, not in front of all these people. Â If he really loved the man, he should let Miles punch him out in front of the crowd. Â Let him leave on a high note after weeks of being abused by Phoenix Wright simply existing.
âYouâŚâ  It seemed to take a moment for the words to sink in, he must be even more exhausted than even Phoenix realized.  ââŚListen, I donât think you have any idea whatâs going on here, but I need you to leave.â
âWhatâs to understand?â Â Phoenix asked with a wry smile. Â âYouâve held out longer than I thought you would. Â I just wanted to say Iâm sorry itâs come to this.â
âCome toâŚâ Confusion overtook the irritation in Milesâ voice.  âCome to what?â
Phoenix shrugged. âYou know, all this.  I just wanted toâŚâ  kiss him, thatâs what he had set out to do, wasnât it?  Show up like the arrogant prick he was and demand a kiss from a man heâd inadvertently tried to ruin.  âHey,â he asked suddenly, âwould you like to punch me out?â
âWhat?!â
âThe press would eat it up, you know, everyoneâs got a camera these days, it would be all over the news by this afternoon. Â At least it would give you something to talk about when you get to wherever youâre going besides what poor taste you have in men.â
âListen, Wright, I assume you think youâre helping with something, but I assure you that you arenât.â Â Miles was finally showing signs of true, intense agitation around the edges of his frazzled confusion. Â âWhen is the last time you actually tried to talk to me? Â Now you want to look like a martyr?â
âNo, not a martyr, just an asshole.â Â Phoenix returned. Â âIsnât that what everyoneâs thinking anyway?â Â He glanced around. Â A few people had paused around them, either recognizing the minor celebrities or just smelling a public breakdown. Â It occurred to him that people who didnât recognize them must be wondering what sort of business the man in the dirty hoodie with stubble that said he was never expected to be presentable anywhere might have with the person who looked like some sort of minor royalty in a period piece. Â Someone must have alerted security already. Â Whatever was going to happen would have to happen soon.
âWright, this is not the time. Â Honestly, Iâll be the first to admit we could use more communication, but you have somehow managed to pick the worst possible time to initiate it, and even by your twisted logic this is wildly inappropriate.â
âCome on, Sweetheart, I know youâre good for it.â Â Phoenix persisted, removing his sunglasses with one hand and taking Milesâ wrist with the other. Â Even he wasnât sure why he was so insistent about a physical altercation. Â Perhaps he was afraid of the lack of passion in their voices. Â If what they had was ending, shouldnât it end with the same fire that had forced them together in the first place? The relationship had been short, but the events leading up to it overshadowed both of their lives. Â âDo something,â Â he insisted. âIâm not just some stranger asking for change.â
Miles looked at the hand trapping his and then back at the owner of said hand. Â âAfter everything weâve been through, canât you just trust me?â
That was fair, honestly it was more than fair.  Miles had never intentionally hurt him during their brief but intense relationship, and a man who didnât order takeout without an intense inner dialogue about his decision wouldnât have just up and left without considering the consequences of his actions.  He should just trust Miles to make the right decision.  But standing here, inches away from the man who heâd pursued for over a decade, it struck him just how difficult it would be to accept that what was best for Miles was to leave and not look back.  Certainly without a kiss goodbye.  It wasnât that Miles had logically decided that his use for Phoenix Wright had ended, this was a man who had dedicated weeks to trying to drag his unresponsive partner out of an engorged river and was finally having to accept that getting himself killed over a lost cause wasnât accomplishing anything.  âIâŚâ he started, with no words in his mind to finish the though.
The last time Miles had left, it had taken fifteen years to catch up. Â This time, would it even be possible?
âMiles?â
Both men turned to see the confused man who had just exited the bathroom. Â He was tall, not abnormally so, but definitely taller than Phoenix, with grey hair fashionably beginning to dust his temples and glasses that only made him look more refined. Â Phoenix was the first to admit he didnât know as much about suits as he could have, but he realized that the suit the man was wearing was most likely custom and definitely closer to Milesâ budget than his own. Â âWho is this?â Â The man asked with a faint but refined accent.
Phoenix would have liked to have something to say at this point, if only so that the first impression he gave implied he was even slightly coherent, but his brain had snapped off the second it registered that some man heâd never even heard of was casually referring to Miles so informally.  No one called Miles Edgeworth by his given name, not even his sister.  Hell, theyâd been dating for months, and he still knew better than to throw the epitaph around carelessly. But this man⌠He looked to Miles, who had gone totally silent.  There was no attempt to make eye contact.  âMiles?â he repeated softly.
âExcuse me, may I help you?â Â The other man stepped forward, taking a worried glance at Miles. Â âDo you have some business with Miles?â
Phoenix supposed the man was handsome. Â Not his own type at all, but he had to admit that the man, while definitely older than himself or the prosecutor, seemed fashionable and well-aged. Â It was more than that, though, something in the eyes or the wrinkles by his mouth, that made him look soft and kind. Â Not the kind of person he would have expected to turn Miles Edgeworthâs head, Â but somehow he looked like the kind that would be strong enough, and stable enough, to support the troubled man through his hectic life without piling on extra unnecessary stress. What a man like Miles truly deserved.
He knew he was able to satisfy Miles sexually. Â The man standing between them probably had no idea that the refined and outwardly repressed prosecutor had introduced the subject of bondage the first time Phoenix had stayed the night at his place, or that theyâd had to establish a safe word that same evening after Miles had gotten so loud theyâd had to pause and confirm that unless it involved one certain word, the volume should be considered an indication that everything was perfect and he should not under any circumstances stop. Â Two weeks after they had gotten together Gumshoe had actually hugged him, tears in his eyes as he thanked Phoenix for whatever it was he was doing, because in almost ten years he hadnât even realized Mr Edgeworth could be that relaxed.
But as a couple they were still trying to smooth out the roughest edges, and after his scandal the edges were getting roughed up faster than they could iron them back down. Â A couple of spectacular orgasms a week didnât even begin to justify what Miles had been through lately.
And yet, the idea that Miles had reached out to another for emotional support hurt so much more than the thought of him finding a convenient body to warm the other side of bed. Â âI get it.â Â he finally said quietly, trying to keep the tears out of his voice.
âI highly doubt that.â Â Miles replied coolly, still looking away. Â Even then, he looked more upset at the inconvenience of the scene being played out in front of him than he did embarrassed or conflicted. Â He just wanted it to be over. Â In some ways, that hurt most.
âNo, I get it. Honestly, youâve held out longer than I deserved.â Â A kiss goodbye, that had seemed like such an obtainable goal this morning. This was exactly what he deserved for listening to the lies of hope. Anger rose up in his throat, at everything, the world that had put him in this position and himself for allowing it to happen. Â At this other man simply for looking exactly like the source of mental and professional stimulation heâd never been able to be for Miles. Â At Miles himself for letting things get to this point without saying anything. Â For that look that was too exhausted to even be emotional. âListen,â He had no idea what he was going to say, but he knew something had to be said. Â He was surprised by the pain and challenge in his own voice. Â âIâm not quite as stupid as you think I am-â
âNo, you listen,â Suddenly the other man was between them, blocking Milesâ body with his own. Â âI donât know what your problem is, but-â
âRobert.â  Miles finally spoke up, putting his hand on the manâs shoulder gently. That hurt too, physical familiarity was not something Miles was readily comfortable with.  The gesture was enough to quiet both men down, waiting in silence for the prosecutor to speak.  Even in his anger, Phoenix could tell that the other man held a deep respect for Miles and was willing to wait for an explanation.  âThis is⌠Phoenix Wright.  Iâm sure youâve heard of his recent troubles, which I can only assume are responsible for him acting like this.â Â
Robertâs face seemed to lighten instantly.  âWhy, I didnât recognize you without the suit!  Yes, of course, Iâve heardâŚâ  he turned back to Miles, and was suddenly quiet again, as if realizing there was more to the story.
âIâll admit that our communication has been strained recently, but the last time we actually discussed it, I was under the impression we were still a couple.â
Phoenixâs heart caught in his throat as Robert looked from one face to the other with shock. Â âI had no idea-â he stammered, and then went quiet again.
âAnd Phoenix Wright, I had hoped that this would be under different circumstances, but I would like to introduce you to Robert Edgeworth, my fatherâs younger brother. Â We reconnected in Brussels last year at a conference, and Iâve asked him to stay out here a week as my guest.â Â He cleared his throat as he thought over his words. Â âThere were things I felt more comfortable speaking about in person rather than over the phone.â
And this would probably be that nadir he had been thinking about:  The exact moment that he was able to pinpoint what exactly he saw in the other man that would be such a comfort to Miles and realized it was how closely he resembled Gregory Edgeworth.  âI-I, um, Iâm Phoenix Wright⌠I guess you knew that.  Itâs such an honor to meet you, Sir, I, um, I didnât realize- he never talked about- n-not that he hasnât talked about you, just not to me!  I meanâŚâ  Now words were coming without thoughts or pauses as he tried to decide the most socially acceptable way to excuse himself to find a good hole to crawl into to die.
âDonât worry about it, Mr. Wright, Pleasure to meet you.â  Robert offered his hand awkwardly.  âI was aware that the two of you were close, but I didnât think⌠I wouldnât presumeâŚâ  he glanced back towards his nephew.
âItâs complicated.â Â Miles said quietly. Â âSignificantly more so as of late.â
âYes, I can see where it would be.â Â Robert said, his voice filled with concern. âAnd you said that he had recently adopted a young girl, didnât he?â Â
âI personally need a drink.â  Miles announced.  âI donât live far, and I honestly donât think Iâll be driving again today.  WrightâŚâ  he paused.  âI donât even know what to do with you right now.â
âI can get lost, no problem.â Â Phoenix mumbled. Â âI mean, youâre still welcome to that punch, if youâd like. Â Youâve certainly earned it.â
Milesâ expression was too tired to even show how annoyed he was. Â âI suppose youâre free to do what you like. Â Iâve never expected otherwise from you, anyway.â Â He was still avoiding eye contact, and it finally hit Phoenix exactly what he had been accusing his partner of. Â
âAfter everything weâve been through, canât you just trust me?â
He trusted Miles with his life. Â Even the lives of the people closest to him, which was significantly more impressive because he actually cared about their well-being. Â He idolized Miles so much that he had automatically assumed infidelity was a normal, healthy thing for Miles to do before it occurred to him that such an action would be out of character for the prosecutor.
He was so deeply devoted to the man that heâd practically forced Miles out the door towards a better future without even asking for his opinion.
âIâm so sorry,â  Phoenix stammered, having trouble forcing the words past the lump in his throat, âI⌠I guess I just got so used to the idea that I was dragging you down that I just assumedâŚâ  the words died on his lips.  There was really no way to recover.  âI hope the two of you have a great time...â  He abruptly turned to go.
A hand caught the back of his sweatshirt. Â âYou donât donât mind, right, Miles? Â Iâd hate to think Iâd strained your relationship further.â Â Miles shrugged without making eye contact. âThen as my guest, please.â Â Robert addressed Phoenix directly. âAt least until we get to the house. Â I need to thank you for saving my nephewâs life.â
âItâs nothing. Â It was a long time ago.â Â Phoenix mumbled.
âNonsense.â Robert returned. Â âYou fought Manfred Von Karma for his sake. Â Some of the bravest men Iâve known would balk at that.â Â He glanced back at his nephew, who had retrieved the suitcase and was walking towards the exit without comment. Â âI underestimated him, myself. Iâll never forgive myself.â Â His voice dropped, and he leaned in conspiratorially. Â âI lost a custody battle with him. Â It cost me my practice in the states. Â The man was a monster, and I left him as guardian of my dear, departed brotherâs only son for fifteen years because I was bitter about that one case. Â I donât pretend to understand the situation between you, but I assure you itâs nothing compared to the betrayal heâs faced in his life. Â He needs you, probably more than he needs me. Â Please, Mr. Wright.â Â His grey eyes glinted earnestly, and Phoenix for the first time in years Phoenix wondered what Miles would have turned out like with a less traumatic background. âFor the ride over, at least.â Â He turned to catch up to Miles.
Against his better judgment, Phoenix followed him. Â
The conversation on the way was limited by the crowds and noise and the sheer difficulty of keeping Miles in sight as he wove through people and cars with the air of someone who flew constantly, and he didnât address either of the men until he arrived at his car. Finally he turned, and seemed to notice for the first time that Phoenix hadnât left. Â Phoenix stood still guiltily, like a child awaiting punishment, for the surprise to turn to resentment, but it never did. Â âLet me see if I can get this in the trunk.â Â he finally said. Â âIt might be tight, but we should manage.â
âYou have your fatherâs taste in vehicles, I see.â  Robert smiled, and it took Phoenix a tense second to notice the shy, barely-repressed grin as Miles mumbled a thanks.  It hadnât occurred to him just how little Miles must know about his father.  Truth, justice, protecting people that couldnât protect themselves, all of that had become a mantra that stuck with the boy until adulthood, but little things, preferred movies, book, foods⌠Most of it wouldnât come up in normal conversation with a nine year old.  He had been denied so much of his family for so long. Phoenix watched the two other men talk with relative ease as Miles somehow managed to get the huge suitcase into the back of the car.
He felt like an intruder in an extremely intimate scene, and at the same time he felt immensely blessed to be here at such a magical event in his partnerâs life.  Miles turned to Phoenix again when he closed the trunk.  He seemed to be waiting for some response.  âI⌠I can still get lost if you want.  I realize how important this is,â he offered lamely.
âIâm not asking you to leave.â Â Miles replied. Â He certainly wasnât asking Phoenix to stay either, but after everything the prosecutor been subjected to today, he deserved to have his partner stick out his own neck.
âI...â Phoenix cleared his throat. Â âIâm sorry about everything. Â I should know by now not to listen to Gumshoe.â
âAnd I should have known better than to think Iâd managed to keep him from interfering.â
âI,â Words were so stupid. Â In all these thousands of years, why hadnât mankind invented a way for people to actually communicate their feelings. Â âIâve just felt so useless lately. Â All I do is cause problems for you.â
âIf you think we started dating because I thought being in close proximity to you would make my life less complicated, Iâm afraid youâre very much in error.â
âNo, I...â  Over Milesâ shoulder, Phoenix could see Robert jerking his head towards his nephew.  He wasnât quite sure what it was meant to suggest, but if their short conversation had been any indication Robert was expecting something.  âI...â  He stepped forward with no real plan.  âI...â  Up this close, Miles was even more breathtaking, and somehow even more exhausted than he had looked earlier.  âOh, Miles...â  His brain was still telling him that this was all stupid, he didn���t even deserve to touch Miles after everything heâd put them through today.  He ignored that voice and wrapped his arms around his poor, exhausted boyfriend.
Miles was all one tense muscle as Phoenix settled into him, wrapping his arms tighter as he was enveloped in the familiar smell and warmth and realized that the last time theyâd just gotten lost in each other he had been a single man with a career ahead of him. That was lifetimes away, but here was Miles, still warm and solid and⌠familiar.  Somehow, despite Phoenixâs terrible luck and horrendous judgment, this was still available.  âIâm sorry,â Phoenix whispered, âso sorry.  I just wanted you to be happy.  Tell me what I can do for you.â
Miles hadnât let go of his tension yet. Â âI donât expect you to be a fountain of joy for me.â Â he replied tersely.
âI know, I know.â Â Phoenix whispered. Â âBut I still want to make you as happy as you make me.â Â There was a pained croak in the back of Milesâ throat, and he squeezed harder. Â âI didnât think I should get in your way, but Trucy told me if I really loved you, Iâd come kiss you goodbye. Â I just wanted to tell you Iâd miss you...â Â There were tears coming now, and he didnât try to hide them. Â âGood god, Iâd miss you, Miles. Â But I wanted you to know that as long as youâre willing to even hint you might come back some day, I can wait forever.â
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Unable To Protect You (Yongguk mafia/gang AU pt.1)
Requested by: 2 (!!) nice and cool anons
Word count: 6.2 k+
Genre/warnings: Mafia/gang AU (contains a swear word or two. Also contains violence, and contains a lot of flashbacks and emotional pain. But, as always - imo nothing too vivid.)
Summary: Him and Himchan were done with all of the dirty work for the day. Another person down, and the burdens of knowing a life had been taken once again hanging on his shoulders, dragging him down lower to the ground. Yet when he came home, his dangerous and dark attire faded away completely as he let himself be held by your arms, letting your reassuring whispers fill his ears. He wasnât a monster. He wasnât a bad person. He simply fought for his own survival and for the lives of his loved ones. Which, looking at the situation, would once again be much harder, since an old, unwanted and uninvited guest had appeared on the scene. Threatening to kill him, and threatening to make you his by rather cruel and painful methods.
(A/N) Three mafia AUs done, three to go! Part two of this should be up sometime tomorrow or on Tuesday. And, in case you like this one and havenât read the others yet, consider checking out the Himchan mafia AU or the Jongup mafia AU, or maybe both! ^.^
THIS IS PART 1 // PART 2 IS HERE
âAre we done here yet?â
Himchan turned to face him, a playful smile appearing on his lips. He watched the close to fragile figure in front of him, and kept wondering how this guy had managed to get so far.
How his face screamed danger, yet he was the most peaceful of all when he wasnât shooting. How he looked like trouble, yet moved so slowly and unwillingly when he wasnât in the middle of an argument. How he had too much soul to handle, and how that drew him lower and lower into the abyss of pain and desperation with every single passing day, as for his line of work, he had a too complex mind, with little space for letting go of things and too much space for remembering.
How he was the strongest warrior of all - Bang Yongguk. The man who could single-handed bring the whole world to his feet, but would never do it, simply because he had too much respect for it.
âAre you in a hurry?â
âNo,â his answer was simple and short, cutting through the otherwise silent night air with ease, âIâm just tired.â
âLet me get rid of the last evidence first and then we can leave.â
They did so soon enough, filling the quiet alleyway with their intimidating shadows creeping alongside the walls of the old, abandoned and destroyed buildings as their footsteps echoed down the street, their shoes seeming a little too fancy and expensive for this dirty place.
But thatâs who they were. Young, handsome men who looked like the gentleman every girl would more or less willingly want to lay her eyes on. The guys to open doors for others, and talk in a smart, polite fashion that made everyone around them think they were the best kind. The ones who treated people right. The ones who were perfect.
Yet the only thing they were indeed perfect at was shooting. And killing. And getting needed information, and what not else - they were quite multi-talented in their survival. In reality, they were the guys your mom warned you about and guys who knew what mercy meant as a term, but were quite bad at using it practically.
Being the Best Absolute Perfect - the best guys out of all of the bad ones - was their calling. And at this point in time they couldnât be more grateful for who theyâd become over the time, because they knew theyâd manage. Theyâd shaped themselves and made their permanent existence in the area more than simply intimidating and bloody obvious. They were âThe Kingâ.
âIâve never seen you hurrying home like this before, friend,â Yongguk barely noticed Himchanâs a little too loud and all over the place talking, slowly turning his head to eye him up and down.
âGet some glasses then, itâs been like this for a year already,â he answered, tucking his freezing hands into his pockets as Himchan laughed at his unusually sarcastic remark.
âItâs because of her, isnât it?â
Silence filled the void between them as Yongguk looked into the distance, his breath rising up in the air and making little twirls as it faded away into the night. It was the start of November for a reason, after all, and this was only the start. It was about to get colder.
âKim Himchan, am I allowed to have a private life?â He turned his head to face his friend once again, even though he knew the answer already.
He wasnât allowed, because Himchan was a part of it, and has been since quite some time ago when they had nothing but each other and a will to survive left.
âNot on my watch,â Himchan said, smiling as he joined in and tucked his hands in his pockets as well. His standard signature phrase that could almost always be heard only in conversation with Yongguk. Heâd spilled it once again.
Yongguk chuckled a little, watching him carefully. God, what he couldâve actually accomplished in life if it wasnât for the whole gang thing. Heâd been gifted with a picture perfect face, and, even though his behavior could be more on the immature side at times, he served good as a leader. Who knows? He couldâve been a local business owner, or a good lawyer or something. He had the brains, and even more than that, the ability to talk with people well. He had the charms to convince anyone who listened to do unbelievable things and to go to unimaginable extents, and his charisma could draw a quite big following of beautiful women to choose one from. And, over all, he had enough honesty and dignity still left to be able to digest that type of life and live it to the fullest.
Yet he was here. Wandering the streets just to get back to a safe place and stay unnoticed after another murder mission alongside with Yongguk. Once again, after more than ten years, they were still at it, refusing to let the other four handle it all on their own.
Because the younger ones could be the main mechanisms and best shots at most of the missions nowadays, but they knew nothing compared to these two. The hyungs would still take upon the most important things, just to keep in mind how having to do the dirty work and coming home with blood stained hands felt like. Because thatâs where their roots laid, and thatâs where they believed they came from. Never forgetting your beginnings was the most important thing.
âHey, I donât blame you at all,â Himchan said, smiling up at the sky a little, âAfter all, I havenât seen you acting this way before you met her.â
âWhat way?â Yongguk questioned quietly, focusing on the main street ahead of them. Soon theyâd have to part, walking their separate ways for the night and staying in the shadows until the reports would come on the news and TV yet again. It was the regular, really.
âIâve got my own fair trade of issues, and you know that. Mental, which keep me from sleeping soundly at night, and physical as well. I didnât take the last major encounter especially well, gotta admit. It still feels like my left arm is of no use.â
âBut fact is, if there was one person whoâs been sinking further down with every passing day from the very start, itâs you, my friend,â Himchan said, letting Yongguk devour those words a little before continuing.
âYouâre too much of a âMr. Rightâ to be a part of this lifestyle, yet you always keep going on with no perspective in mind. You donât even care if youâre going to make it, which is about the scariest thing there is about you, if you ask me. And for the longest time youâd been fighting with no reason.â
"Hey, Iâve always had my reasons. Who else is going to watch you, leader loud-mouth?â
Himchan chuckled yet again at the remark, looking somewhat pleased with the title Yongguk had gifted him with.
âI appreciate it, really. You know that at this point itâd be hard to continue surviving without each other. Iâd made so many mistakes in the past and even the present, just to get all of them fixed up by you while I did vice versa later on. But ever since.. You know what happened.. And since you gave up on your leader positions, youâd become even less invested in this whole thing, which, looking at how youâd never liked this life youâre leading in the first place, is quite dangerous.â
Silence filled the air yet again. They both knew there were just a few more steps till theyâd be back on the main streets, and Himchan patiently waited for Yongguk to say something before they would eventually have to part ways.
âHimchan,â he finally spoke, stopping and looking him right into the eyes, âI really appreciate the worry, but Iâll manage. Iâve always did, and nothing will stop me from continuing on the same way. In the worst case, youâll slap me in the face and make me move, just like you used to. But I will always keep my guard up high and my expectations of the world down low. I know nothingâs fair, despite being so beautiful, and everything hurts and itches. Itâs quite tragically devastating actually. Iâm aware. Iâll manage.â
âWithout a doubt,â Himchan walked out into the street, the street lights highlighting his amazing bone structure and making his gaze look even more amused but yet so dangerous, âYou have no choice now, since you took her in.â
âYou generally learned how it is to care for someone - someone whoâs too vulnerable and fragile to keep herself safe on her own. You learned that not everything and everyone except the five of us would always be against you in this world,â he was already walking away, leaving Yongguk to stand alone and tap his feet on a puddle, âSheâs waiting for you right now, and you know that. Sheâs cutting her sleep short just to welcome you back home like no one else will ever do. While everyone fears you, she loves you. Not caring how many men youâd gotten rid of tonight, and not caring about your intentions. She blindly trusts you, and you trust her. And if that isnât beautifully destroying, I donât know what is.â
One moment he was there, and the next he was gone, leaving Yongguk to hang his head down lower and walk back home through the pouring rain. Who needed cars anyways? He lived quite nearby, and walking hadnât hurt anyone yet.
Himchan had always been right, no matter the situation, and the way back home seemed painfully long because of all of the thoughts creeping into his head. Yet he couldnât help but agree that all of those statements were true within seconds of thinking. He didnât doubt it even once.
He doubted it even less when he dragged himself through the door, kicking off his shoes just to wander into the living room doorway and stop at the mesmerizing sight in front of him.
You were dancing. To one of the vinyl recordings from his collection.
Your body looked so beautiful, and he wondered how you ever let it trail against his. How your smooth skin never minded the touch of his rough and scarred one, and how you always found pleasure in the parts of him he hated the most. Your movements were subtle and little, yet quite eye catching and pleasing as your hips swayed from side to side, and your quiet humming could be heard all through the room. Your eyes were closed, and your head was slightly tilted upwards, letting the moonlight shine right onto your chest. You moved, until you felt his presence and slowed down, turning to him in a swift, elegant move and letting your stare meet with his longing one.
He stood there, all across the room, watching you. The way his shirt that youâd snatched away looked so huge and loose on you, drowning out your frame in it completely. How it looked so aesthetically pleasing with your knee socks to extents that made you look like a goddess rather than a hot mess in his eyes. He had to resist not to let all of his senses kick into overdrive and have all of you at once, right then and there.
âYongguk..â
He heard his name and carefully watched how it left your lips - how it stayed hanging in the air for a little before completely disappearing without leaving a single trace. How it only managed to sound this gentle and soft when you said it. Your feet started slowly moving towards him, but he was too out of this world to see. He barely even noticed when your hands reached to rest on his chest.
âYouâre freezing, Yongguk..â
He did nothing and just stood there, his body willingly obeying to every movement you put it through. Your hands slid carefully over his shoulders, freeing him from his jacket slowly. His eyes never left yours even once during this whole time, savoring every given moment. How you undressed him from the cold, wet jacket, being a little too caught up in the moment and simply throwing it to the side, deciding youâd take care of it later. How your arms found their way back around his neck to rest on his shoulders in seconds, as they knew their desired route perfectly. How you simply looked at him, your eyes displaying the fact that you knew.
You knew he was bad. But you didnât mind.
âI killed a man today,â he quietly said, feeling like he could tell you all his sins and be forgiven for them all at once, âAnd, because I killed a man, I am no good for you.â
It was going to be one of these evenings. He kept coming home emotionally crushed beyond belief more and more often, and you couldnât help but simply feel worried about him. He was thinking again. About how bad he was. About all the things heâd done in life. Thinking about how heâd become the thing he initially feared and hated.
âYongguk.. I thought we had talked it outâŚâ
His hands eventually found the right path to trail down as well, holding your hips tightly in place as he felt he was drawing his face closer to yours once again.
âWhy do you keep doing this?â his breath itched against your skin as he let his hand trail up and down your side, feeling every curve, and every part of you that took his breath away oh so often, âWhy do you keep telling me itâs alright?â
You had his marks on you, one of them beautifully displayed on your neck for him to admire, distracting him from thinking straight. He could clearly make out the shape of his lips, drawn onto your skin ever so roughly in red and purple lines, and he was amazed by how he couldâve been the creator of something so beautiful. His hand eventually reached to trace the mark, and he ran his fingers over it, remembering how he made that happen. Remembering sinking his lips into your skin, waiting for your approval and allowance to continue. Remembering wanting to go gentle at you, but losing himself somewhere along the way when you told him he could do it all. Remembering your parted lips. Your tiny whimpers of pleasure and slight pain that twisted with it. The feeling of you grabbing the back of his shirt, and eventually his skin later on, when the shirt was removed and you were off to do more serious things.
He remembered apologizing for scarring you the next morning, and he remembered receiving another âitâs fineâ.
âBecause it really is,â you saw his stare fixated on the bruise on your neck, and knew what would eventually follow, as it happened every damn time he marked you somewhere there. His hand always kept travelling where it shouldnât.
âIt isnât,â with a swift move, heâd exposed your left shoulder, leaving his hand to rest on it. You knew what was to come, and at this point you were already braced for it. Ready to stand the storm.
âIâm no good for you, babe,â he said quietly, tracing over the large scar all across your shoulder, âBecause I was there when this happened. Yet I couldnât help in time, because I was busy with other things.â
âThose other things being looking out for the members of your team, and I think that keeping everyone alive is more important than preventing me from getting hurt,â you felt how he traced the outline of the scar, and even though his heart clenching wasnât quite visible on the outside, you knew he was a wreck deep inside currently. Such a beautiful disaster.
âKeeping everyone on our side alive just to take other lives seconds later, babe. You keep forgetting, or rather ignoring that,â he added, and stayed silent for a moment.
You could be anywhere in the world right now, yet you were here. Spending your days with the silent, closed-in monster that he was. Letting him find a place he could call home in your actions and intentions. Allowing him to destroy you in the most beautiful ways just to fix you up later on.
Holding him in a standing position when he felt like collapsing and becoming one with the ground.
His hands made a quick, sharp movement, sliding to rest on your sides as he pinned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and exhaling rather loudly.
âHow comes youâre still here?â
âYou saved me. And even before youâd done that, I already loved you. So why shouldnât I stay?â
âYou know you donât have to do this if you donât want to, right?â
âIâm fully aware. But I want to,â he opened his eyes, looking at you as you bit your lip right before the next sentence.
âYouâre not bad at all, Yongguk-ah. Youâre the most honest, truest person thereâs ever been in my life, and I truly donât care about your wrongdoings, because at the end of the day, the people you get rid of are the ones who make this world a living hell.â
âAnd to me youâll always be nothing but the love of my life and a savior,â you finished, giving him the last little push he needed, in the form of a hand at the back of his head that moved him in the right direction, gently placing his lips on yours.
A savior. That had to be a lie or a joke, right?
Yet it felt like neither one of those when you kissed him, and he couldnât help but do the same back to you in a similar intensity and fashion. Tugging at your clothes for support. Pinning you against him fully, leaving no space in between your bodies whatsoever. Refusing to take a breath in between, because, even if every sane person would disagree, he was convinced you were more important than oxygen.
Showing you he needed you.
You glanced over at his sleeping frame that evening, admiring his true face and colors. Heâd come home once again with nothing but compunction in his heart and mind, and it drew him to kiss you full-force for a while before collapsing onto the bed and falling asleep before you even managed to scold him for not eating dinner.
He wasnât tired, you knew. He never seemed to be. He just had too much on his mind yet again, and needed to drown all of that out in the most effective ways.
Him shifting and clenching on the blankets a little made you chuckle, as well as wonder how anyone heâd ever had business with would react to seeing him this way. To seeing the intimidating former leader, the one with the frightening gaze and unpleasantly low voice so vulnerable, and so.. hurt.
Yes. He was hurting tons, and you didnât know what to do about it.
It was a thing he carried from the very past, a thing that had been programmed into his systems and present in his roots all along. The constant realization he was no good, and the thought of doing the thing he was against much too often for his liking.
Hurting people. Bringing violence everywhere he went. Shooting on quite a few occasions instead of talking it out.
Even if it was to make this world an a little safer place, and to guarantee their well-being and survival, he wasnât having it. Even if the people he killed were no good, and had been wrecking mad havoc and destroying things and lives for years, he wasnât having any of that.Â
He was still no good, and it hurt him to unimaginable extents. But it had been like this forever, and, at this point, nothing could ever change that.
He knew nightmares would haunt him the second he climbed under the blankets. But what he got instead was vivid dreams of how it used to be. A reminder of how he became who he was now.
Heâd always been the quiet one, rather standing in the corner and observing than going out to do anything. He never had a lot of friends, but he didnât mind being lonely at all. He liked the peacefulness, and there were few times he felt like something was wrong with the way his life had unfolded. There were few times he would realize how no one would give him a helping hand in any situation, because there simply wasnât anyone in his life to do so. And he rarely noticed how heâd always have to deal with it alone.
That is, until he met no other than Kim Himchan.
It was a regular boyâs fight in the yard about a toy. Yongguk mustâve been around seven years old at that point, and happened to be there when a bunch of boys a year or two older than him approached.
âWhatâs this stupidity?â one called out, snatching the Tigger toy out of Yonggukâs hands before he could react, âOh wow, this is so lame!!â
âDonât you have any cool stuff?â another one leaned it, saying it right to his face mockingly, âLike, a water gun or something.â
Yongguk looked up at them with a gaze that made them freeze on the spot for a while, his answer being short and clear, just as always.
âNo. This is all I have. Now give it back.â
Needless to say, they didnât, which lead to Yongguk trying to snatch it away from them and being unsuccessful.
âLook at him! What do you think youâre doing!?â the boy holding the toy laughed loudly, and pushed Yongguk back. He stumbled, almost falling to the ground, but managed to stay in a standing position.
âI think we should show him his place, right, guys?â
The approval could be heard all through the yard, and Yongguk took a deep breath, bracing himself for what was to come.
He knew he would get beaten up. And he knew that in theory he should fight back. But is there any use on doing so, if thereâs three of them, and theyâre all older, automatically being taller and stronger as well?
âHey, what do you think youâre doing?â Yongguk heard an unfamiliar voice coming from behind, but didnât dare to look back. His full attention was still focused on the boys in front of him, and he saw them looking past him and at the mysterious speaker.
âWho are you anyways? Get lost, this is none of your business!â the toy was thrown to the ground, and the boy made his way over to do the first punch.
A punch to the gut, but he was still standing still. His insides hurt at the deep impact with the boyâs fist, yet he managed to hold his grounds perfectly, not saying a thing and simply staring at the ground.
âWhat an idiot,â he chuckled, giving another punch that seemed to have no effect either, âStill holding on. What for? Thereâs no one to help you-â
Slap.
It was a moment in time, as everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The boyâs hand was smacked away with quite an unbelievable force, and soon enough he received a slap to his face as well.
âGet away.â
It was the stranger from before - the one who had spoken earlier. He was standing next to Yongguk now, and ready to join the fight.
Still taken aback, Yongguk eyed him up and down quietly. He was a little shorter, and possibly younger than him as well. Yet he was a loud mouth - the complete opposite of Yongguk - as well as someone who couldnât watch a situation like this unfold and not do anything about it. He was the first person whom Yongguk ever met that had the same perception as him - the opinion that certain people who hadnât done anything bad didnât deserve to go through unfair things and conditions in life.
The inevitable happened, and soon the three boys left, leaving behind two beaten up younger ones and a toy carelessly thrown to the ground.
The stranger was the first one to move, sitting up and coughing a bit. With a shaky hand, he reached towards the toy and picked it up, handing it to Yongguk who had already sat up as well.
âHere. A bit dirty, but fixable,â he said, giving an a little pained smile.
Yongguk hesitantly stretched out his arm to grab the toy, and looked at him in disbelief. He didnât trust him or his intentions at all. There hadnât been anyone who had simply helped him for nothing out of the blue just yet.
âWhy did you try to stand up for me?â
The boy shrugged, tilting his head to the side and thinking, âI mean, are you saying I shouldâve left you there alone for them to make fun of? Not on my watch.â
âYou knew what would happen. Theyâre stronger, and thereâs more of them. We had no chances of winning anyways.â
âHah, you didnât even try,â he laughed, getting up to his feet, âAnd thatâs why you lost so soon.â
âThere was no use anyways. There was no way we couldâve won. So why should I try if I know that it wonât do or change anything?â Yongguk slowly took the boyâs, standing up to his feet and wondering what had suddenly made him so talkative. He hated talking, after all.
âWhy not? Are you simply going to stand the fact that theyâre treating you like they shouldnât? Or are you going to try and do your best to make the situation fair?â
Yongguk looked at him in disbelief. He was the first person who understood. The first to spark some type of desire in him to actually try, and he couldnât tear his eyes off of him.
âWho are you?â
âIâm Himchan. I live nearby.â
âO-oh yeah, I think Iâve seen you around.. I-Iâm Yongguk..â
The scenery seemed so clear, and it felt like all of that had happened just yesterday. How both boys stood under the trees in the middle of the yard, getting to know each other and thinking of how to explain the bruises to their families later on. It was the first time he met Kim Himchan, and it became far from the last time heâd see him.
A few years is what it took to turn the situation completely around. Left without a family, without a home and a place to go back to, they both aimlessly wandered the streets. Fire. Murders. Police sirens everywhere. And they fled, being afraid of what might follow after everything theyâd just been through. Being fourteen years of age was enough, right? They would manage.
Getting involved with gangs happened quite accidentally, but as they got into the business, they werenât allowed to make a run from it.
âWerenât you against unfairness?â Yongguk hissed as Himchan got ready for another one of the few missions theyâd been on already, loading his gun.
Yongguk had been there for this whole time with him, but hadnât shot even once. He refused to do so, because that would mean hurting people. And he wasnât about to hurt anybody.
âI am, I promise,â Himchan threw him a gun, knowing a little too well he wouldnât use it anyways, âBut tell me, what other possibilities do we have right now? What else do you have left?â
âDeath.â
âNot on my watch.â
Yongguk sighed, knowing there was no way to argue back. Himchan had been the person to hold him above water level for all of these years, and he wasnât about to give up on him.
Heâd been more than simply useless all this time, tagging along, but not doing anything to help out and fight back. Heâd been threatened by the gang that heâd be simply gotten rid of if he didnât start being useful, but he couldnât bring himself to do anything even after all of that, making Himchan work for both of them.
He couldnât bring himself to hurt people.
âDo you really think anyone whoâs been taken care of so far didnât deserve it?â Himchanâs question snapped him out of his thoughts.
âWell, they did. But the same could be said about you. Youâre doing just the same as them. Killing.â
âBut Iâm not doing it for wealth or power. Iâm doing it to guarantee your and my survival. Iâm simply fighting back, and if something would happen to me, Iâd accept it.â
A shot in the side. And he indeed did accept it.
Yongguk felt his world breaking apart at the sight in front of him. How Himchanâs frame had been beside him all along, until at some point it crashed to the ground, revealing a rather large, bleeding wound on the side.
âHimchan! W-what-â
âShoot, you idiot, will ya!? Save yourself at least, since I canât do that anymore.â
And with tear strained cheeks, he obeyed. His hands were shaking and his aim wasnât the best, but it was just good enough to cover him and Himchan whoâd sat up at that point, breathing heavily and trying not to pass out from the immense pain.
âHold on, do you hear!?â Himchan chuckled at how shitlessly scared and caring, as well as frightened Yongguk sounded. Heâd never seen him that way, and he had to admit - it was not simply unusual, but even scary to some extent. Chucking hurt though, so Himchan simply leaned back, focusing to keep his consciousness. âYessir,â he quietly muttered, his vision blurry, but his head still clear.
It was the day Himchan couldâve died, but because of a lucky coincidence he didnât. And it was the day Yongguk first used a gun against somebody.
The first time he killed a man.
He sat next to Himchan who was lying medicated and bandaged up in bed, and thought. Heâd killed a man. Heâd caused violence, and had broken the morals heâd kept up for so long. But what for?
For the sake of the only person left in his life, who managed to stay alive thanks to his efforts. Alive, because he shot and made sure heâd manage.
Suddenly, all colors drained and he was left in his beloved black and white. The sight in front of him got blurry and twisted into wicked shapes, before clearing up again. Yongguk found himself watching the same event happening from the distance, as if he was a third person watching from afar. But something seemed to be off this time around.
âYongguk-ah!! I canât do it on my own,â Himchan screamed, shots being fired his way at an alarming rate, âI need backup!!â
Yongguk saw himself not far away from Himchan, and what this other self he was observing now said left him choking on plain air and unable to speak or move.
âHimchan, why should I?â his voice sounded cold and careless, displaying no emotions whatsoever, âThereâs more of them than thereâs us, and theyâre older, taller and stronger. We wonât win anyways.â
âYongguk-ah, stop being dumb and help-â
Shoot. Right in the side.
They made eye contact, and Yongguk watched the blood coming out of and dripping from Himchanâs mouth. Dark red, thick liquid stained his chin as he hit the ground. The blood was the only colorful thing in the black and white scenery, and it was a nice finishing touch, making the view more than simply tragical and devastatingly painful.
Another shot followed, and he fell to the ground, gathering up his last strength to shoot a few more times. He struggled to keep his balance, and his eyes seemed to refuse to cooperate - they constantly wanted to fall shut at the immense pain.
He continued shooting just to cover Yongguk - the person he cased about. The person who couldâve prevented all of this from happening, yet didnât.
âHold..On⌠And donât you dare-Ahhh.â he received another shot, and at this point the ending was inevitable. His body was too damaged to keep him alive for much longer.
âDonât you dare dying, YonggukâŚâ
Cold sweat was dripping from his forehead as Yongguk woke up in the middle of the night, his heart racing at an alarming rate.
No, no, no. None of that had ever happened. He shot, and Himchan survived. And from then on, they always shot together. Always worked as a team, to not only keep their lives, but to get rid of dangerous people so they couldnât harm anyone anymore. But, even though he saved him, he didnât prevent the most important person in his life from getting hurt though, and now Himchan wore a rather large scar on his skin for the rest of his life that showed off Yonggukâs weakness.
And you did just the same.
âYongguk-ah..â he heard you mumbling in your sleep, and only now really understood what had really happened.
A nightmare. Thank god.
His sudden movements and heavy breathing had caused you to react, and you buried your face further into his neck as the grip of your hand on his shoulder tightened.
âYongguk-ah.. Itâs fine..â you were talking in your sleep, making him realize that this was probably the phrase youâd told him the most during all this time youâd spent together with him. All you ever did apart from loving him unconditionally was reassuring him that all was fine.
He gulped a little, closing his eyes and trying to calm his breathing. His hand trailed to rest on your arm, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. He didnât want to wake you up and make you worry about him. There was no need to do so, because it had all just been a bad dream. A horrible nightmare.
âItâs fine, (Y/N), I know. Itâs fine..â
It wouldnât be like that for much longer though.
Himchan crashed his place the next morning, being closely followed by Junhong who always tagged along whenever there was something related to Yongguk, no matter the situation.
You were still sleeping when you heard voices coming from the hallway. You froze at first, realizing there was more than just one voice there and Yongguk wasnât in bed next to you anymore, but soon you understood who those voices belonged to. You knew everyone in B.A.P just like the back of your hand, and after the fear had died down you recognized Himchanâs nasal voice and Junhongâs fast manner of talking. And Yonggukâs low, inaudible sentences, of course.
Climbing out of bed carefully and taking a few steps towards the door, you listened carefully and were wary not to make a sound. Eavesdropping wasnât good, but their visit at such a time of day couldnât mean anything good. And if Yongguk was in trouble or danger, you simply had to know.
âWe have to get her away from here.â
âBut where to? Do you think keeping her around at the base would be a much better idea?â
âIt would be slightly safer. I know the base should technically be a more dangerous place, since all six of us could be there at any point, but itâs you heâs searching for. And itâs her he wants.â
âAnd this isnât a safe place anymore, Yongguk hyung. Not after all of those threats..â
The floor creaked, and three pairs of eyes were staring at you within milliseconds. You cursed to yourself a little - shifting on spot wasnât really necessary, but you still did it, causing noise and ruining your perfect hideout.
It took you only seconds to realize you really didnât want Himchan and Junhong to see you this way. Messy-haired, sleepy-eyed and with nothing besides your underwear and Yonggukâs loose, big shirt that looked like a dress on you covering you. Remembering the bruises and love bites on your neck only added to your embarrassment, but you couldnât really go away now. You were trapped, and had to simply wait.
âYongguk-ah.. Is something wrong?â
He looked at both men at first, earning a glance from them as well. Junhong waved, and Himchan bowed a little before disappearing through the door without any explanations, and it was just you and Yongguk in the apartment once again.
âI heard you talking, and.. I really didnât want to listen at first, but it seemed like you were talking about something really important, and..â
âItâs fine, (Y/N),â he said quietly, giving you another look before gesturing for you to come out of the room and into the hallway. He watched as your slightly frightened frame disconnected from the doorway, and he carefully listened to how your bare feet hit the floor with little thuds, making close to unnoticeable sounds as you came closer.
âNow listen carefully, babe,â his hands met with yours, and he intertwined your fingers with his, putting you slightly at ease, but just until the next sentence.
âMinjaeâs back..â
You felt all of your senses leaving your body as fear strained your vision and you felt like collapsing on the ground.
âNo.. Please tell me this isnât true..â
Your eyes met with his, and his heart started clenching. You looked so fragile, and so unprotected - so alone in this dangerous environment. But he wasnât going to let absolutely anything happen to you. Putting a hand on your cheek, he drew a few circles with his thumb before pulling your face closer, and letting you bury your face in his chest.
âDo you need time to process, or can I speak on?â He asked quietly, earning a muffled sound from you that he took as allowance to continue.âYou know what this means. He wonât let you live in peace, and he wonât let me live at all. So now we have to take care of the situation.â
âHow?â you quietly asked, gripping at the back of his shirt as he held you in his arms tightly.
âFirst of, we have to get you out of here. Himchan is right. Itâs better if you stay at the base than if you stay here. Thereâs six of us there to protect you instead of one thatâs rather emotionally unstable and constantly drowning in sorrows-â
âAnd what then? Iâll be safe, but whatâs going to happen to you?â
He stayed silent for a bit, considering. He knew his limits, and they were way below Minjaeâs. He knew this was close to impossible, and that he wouldnât be able to handle it on his own.
So why try?Â
But your silent sniffing and the way your body tried to repress sobs as it shook a little against his own was enough for him to want to slap himself all across the face. He was acting weak again, and this time around it wasnât him who mattered.
You were there with him. In his shirt, with his marks on you and in his arms. With a bruise on your left shoulder that he couldnât prevent from being left on your precious, soft skin.
You were his. And he was responsible for you, because he swore to take good care of you.
âIâm going to do my best to prevent anything bad from happening,â he quietly said in your ear, making you feel uneasy.
âYongguk-ah.. Please, donât put yourself in danger for my sake-â
âI wonât put myself in danger,â you felt his grip tighten around you, and soon your head was lifted by his hand to look back at him.
Rage. Plain rage and nothing else could be seen in his eyes. He wasnât scared anymore. He wasnât having self-doubts. He was simply pissed beyond belief and to the last bone.
âI wonât put myself in danger, because Iâm going to become the fucking danger,â his tone was harsh, making you flinch a little, âAnd anyone whoâll try to put a hand on my girl is going to go down. Everyone who will try harming you will pay for it. They will get their bones crushed, and their hearts decorated with gunshot wounds, or ripped out if I feel like it. I will have no second thoughts in doing all of that to them, and if God wonât forgive me for protecting one of the only people who truly matter to me, may hell have all of me, because Iâm going to just what I promised. Understood?â
Shaking your head and indicating youâd heard him, you were still a little frightened by his sudden emotional outburst. That was nowhere near his typical nature. Nowhere near his âpeaceful guyâ aura. Yet he sounded so genuinely true when he said all of that, it made you really believe him.
All of a sudden he leaned in to softly kiss you. All of the anger was gone within seconds, and his kiss was soothing medication, telling you that youâd be just fine, as long as he was by your side. Telling you that he was there, and that he wouldnât let anything bad happen to you. Telling you heâd prevent you from getting any more scars to remind him every day of how he wasnât able to protect you back then when you needed it the most. Giving you a safe place to stay at, right in the middle of his heart.
âGo pack a few things, babe,â he spoke against your lips softly, âWe have to leave as soon as possible. The guys are waiting for us.â
He watched you disappearing though the doorway, and couldnât help but clench his hands into fists until his knuckles turned white.
You getting hurt? Not on his watch.
That asshole would definitely pay for all heâd done and all he intended to do.
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Ali/Em: đ / ⌠(1) time my muse thought about calling yours, and (1) time did
@billeypiper
đ-Have my muse kiss yours
While being single on Valentineâs day wasnât aproblem, being single when all your friends were in relationships was aproblem. For the past few weeks, the other girls had been talking about theirValentineâs plan â while Emily and Alison just sat there and waited for theconversation to change Eventually, Alison asked if Emily wanted to come to herhouse and watch a movie. If everyone else had romantic plans, it only seemedfair that they did something that could be fun, even if it was just so they didnâthave to sit around having no plans while everyone was out doing something fun.
Considering her father was out of town, and she hadno idea where Jason was, theyâd have the house to themselves. Sheâd gone outthat morning to get some of her and Emilyâs favourite snacks and drinks, andfigured they could just order some food later if they got hungry. That had beeneasy, what she had the problem with, was picking movies for them to watch.Valentineâs Day seemed to call for romance movies to be watched, but that didnâtfeel like the right choice. Not for two people who happened to be single.Especially not for two people who had so many unresolved feelings. While shewas mentally trying to pick out a film, the doorbell went off â and she wassaved from any more worrying about movie choices, because she could just letEmily pick.
Theyâd ended up watching some comedy, not thatAlison could tell anyone about it, because she found her focus on the person besideher. The longer the night went on, the more Alison realized she hadnât made theright call by inviting Emily over. It wasnât that she didnât want to spend timewith Emily â but something about it being Valentineâs day made everything shehadnât said spring to the front of her mind. Her head was resting on the backof the couch looking at Emily, when the other turned around, and Alisonâs eyesmet Emilyâs. For a brief second, Alison considered just snapping her eyes backto the tv, but before logic could kick in, sheâd bent her head slightly to getcloser to Emily, pausing only to look at Emily once more to see if there wasany doubt on her face, before leaning in the rest of the way and pressing herlips gently against Emilyâs.
When Emily didnât pull away, Alison deepened thekiss, smiling into it. It felt right, like something finally made sense intheir lives â even if it was going to be the thing that meant they had to ripopen old wounds and talk everything through.
Pulling back when the need for air arose, she smiledalmost bashfully at Emily. âHappy Valentineâs Day.â
One time my muse thought about calling yours
It didnât seem to matter how long Alison had beengone from Rosewood, certain days would just hit her harder than normal. Therewas the obvious days, like the holidays where she knew everyone was sittingdown with their families- and she was hiding out herself. But it seemed to bethe less obvious days that hit the hardest. Like the first day back at school âwhen everyone else her age had to worry about their grades, and not jumpwhenever they saw a shadow. The days she seemed to feel the most lonelyhowever, where the days of her friendâs birthdays. She could picture all ofthem together, having fun and smiling. She could picture them moving on withtheir lives without her, while she seemed stuck in the past, missing everythingshe had to give up.
She hadnât needed any reminders, to tell her that itwas currently Emilyâs birthday. Pam had probably made her a cake that was justperfect for Emily. Aria, Hanna and Spencer would probably do something to makeEmily know just how loved she was. That was if âA let them have a day wherethey could just be together. Pulling her hair up so that she could hide it inher hood, Alison pulled on the black jacket she owned, the one that let herblend into the crowd a little too easily.
Knowing she couldnât use the cell phone she had, shewalked towards the nearest payphone. That at least couldnât be traced, and evenif it could, she could simply get out of town before anyone showed up. Onlyonce she got into the small phone box, she realized just how selfish it was tocall Emily. To not provide any answers, and leave her life once more. It wassafer for the others to stay in the dark. Not to mention they all seemedhappier without her around. If she truly wanted to wish Emily a happy birthday,the best way was to not say anything at all. To let her continue moving on, andnot giving her more questions.
Placing the phone back, she walked out of the phonebox and started making her way back to the small apartment she was currentlyat. Â Sheâd made her choice the night sheleft Rosewood, and she had to stick to it now.
and (1) time they did
When she came back to Rosewood, part of Alison hadtruly believed that everything would be completely fine. That she could justget her old life back â it didnât take too long for the harsh realities to sinkin. There was no way to recapture what she had before. People had moved on, andshe wasnât the queen anymore. Nor was she the leader of her friends, and couldnâtget them to blindly follow her. Which is what had led to their current fight.Apparently now, none of the others were okay with her keeping them in the dark.Not that she could exactly blame them, considering if sheâd told them what washappening, their lives might not have been hell for so long. But she couldnâtsay that to them, instead she just let them distance themselves.
That was until Emilyâs birthday came around again.The others were only going out to dinner to celebrate it, and Alison couldnâthelp but think back to the times where she wished she could be with the otherson their birthdays. To be a part of something special again. Could she reallyjust stay at home, because she was too prideful to admit that sheâd mademistakes over the years? Too stubborn to realize the others hand moved on, anddespite everything sheâd done, they were still willing to give her a chance.Something she wasnât currently giving them.
Pushing herself from her bed, she walked over to herdresser where her cell phone was. She hadnât gotten around to getting a newone, so it was a little outdated, but it still worked for what she needed.Scrolling through the contacts until she hit Emilyâs name. Pressing the callbutton before she could talk herself out of it, Alison wasnât too surprisedwhen she heard the voicemail message. With everything going on, she wasnât surewhy Emily would answer â regardless, she still started to speak, deciding Emilyhearing what she had to say via voicemail was better than nothing.
âHey Em.â She started off, putting in as much pep inher words as she could â hoping that as long as she pretended everything wasfine, she could delude herself into believing it. âI just wanted to say HappyBirthday. I get why you didnât want me around today, but... I wanted to let youknow that I really do hope you have a great day. You deserve one aftereverything. You deserve a day where everyone makes a big deal out of you. I donâtknow what else to say, but... Just have a good day.â
Hanging up, she couldnât help but mentally kickherself. She hadnât said even half of what she wanted to say - Â but what she wanted to say seemed more likean âin personâ conversation â there was no way she could apologize foreverything sheâd done over the phone. It just wasnât right. And she had tostart doing things the right way, even if it wasnât what she wanted.
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Sunrise and Sunset (M)
Thank you for the request anon! I hope this story is to your liking! Thank you for being so patient with me and requesting, I love and appreciate your support! Enjoy!
Characters: Shownu, Kihyun and the rest of Monsta X Genre: Assassin AU, Romance Warnings: Smut for one scene and itâs mostly vanilla, use of weapons/mild violence, Rating: M Word Count: 5.5k Plot: Why did the infamous Kihyun leave his job as a hitman for love? It all began with a fear of heights, murder and sunsets⌠Credit to the gif owner!
The sun was beginning to set over the Seoul skyline. High schoolers and adults moving like ants as they made their way to the nearest transportation to rest for the night. A long day of hard-work deserved rest in the shade of the world, if only for a few hours.
Except for Yoo Kihyun.
The dark-haired male was sitting on top of Seoul Tower, overlooking the view of the city below. Endless dots of people roamed the streets, every speck having some sort of destination in mind, the crowds growing smaller with each minute.
âReminiscing, Kihyun?â A voice called.
Kihyun turned his head to see a man in a black trench coat, wearing a cat-like smile and a flicker of mischief in his brown eyes. Well, what could be seen of them behind his mop of floppy blonde hair.
âWhy are you here?â Kihyun raised an eyebrow before returning his gaze back to the city.
âWell, word on the street is that you come here all the time so I thought Iâd pay you a visit. Especially after everything thatâs happenedâŚâ The man trailed off, reaching into his pocket to pull out a packet of cigarettes.
The cigarette didnât make it to his lips as a small dagger cut through the cancer stick and pierced into the gated wall beside the blondeâs head.
âI wonât miss next time, Minhyuk.â Kihyun adjusted his sleeve, a smaller blade with a purple tint on the tip falling into his hand. His eyes never moved.
âI know you wonât.â Minhyuk laughed, putting the cigarettes back in his pocket and looking at the blade in the wall. âBut to think how your skills have gone to waste, now that youâre a rouge.â
Silence.
The blonde sighed, averting his eyes to the sky above, despite how close it was already. âTell me, was he worth it?â
The only sound that could be heard was the wind hitting their clothing, the air suddenly growing cold. The sound was so sudden and loud, that Minhyuk almost didnât hear Kihyunâs response.
Almost.
âI see. Well, I hope it was for the best. I never knew that Yoo Kihyun would give up his assassin career and the dreams of a lifetime, for love. Then again, I never took you to be a fan of heights either.â
Turning towards the door, Minhyuk dropped the box of cigarettes on the ground with a wave of his hand. âI wish you luck. And maybe weâll see each other again.â
Kihyun was left once again with his thoughts, the same thoughts that cause him to come up here in the first place. Despite everything he went through, he was still back to staring at everything below.
And to thoughts of him.
Kihyun hated heights.
The way everything looked farther away, the way his vision began to swirl as he imagined falling endlessly into the distortion below. All he thought of was crashing to the ground like a pancake, but whenever he looked up he thought of everything tall crashing into him like a bug. He hated being high up despite striving to be on top.
He was like that since childhood, always avoiding amusement parks and school field trips to any towers or tall buildings. In high school, he avoided class trips and even looking out of the window of the run-down house he and his mother lived in.
Kihyun had no idea why he hated heights so much or where the fear developed from. All he knew was that he had to keep his body and mind on solid ground, and never look down.
But when his mother passed away, he had nowhere to go but to the big city to live with his aunt. He had done pretty-well to stay clear of heights when he lived began to live there, but it was unavoidable in Seoul. There were tall buildings everywhere, not to mention the endless attractions and planes that filled the sky every day. He almost had a panic attack seeing everything, but he learned to cope.
Kihyun was 21 when he took someoneâs life. He was walking home after a shift at a nearby cafĂŠ and had to get ready for an exam the following morning. He had to pass over the bridge to get to his house, when a group of men grabbed him from behind.
They were all covered from head to toe in black, reeking of cigarettes and booze. One grabbed him and tried to take his money, while the others tried to beat him to a pulp. He tried to shield his face, but the attacks were coming from everywhere. Soon, he couldnât feel his limbs and his vision was blurry from the bruises.
Once his belongings were taking, the leader of the gang grabbed him by the wrists and pinned his body against the ledge of the bridge. The water was black, roaring and churning below, sending Kihyunâs mind in a panic.
âYou ready to go for a swim, kid?â The man cackled with a smirk, pushing Kihyunâs upper body over the ledge almost playfully. He watched the boy struggle and laughed louder. âWhat, are you afraid of heights? Donât worry, you wonât have time to be afraid when your bones snap.â
Whenever Kihyun was asked what happened next, he honestly couldnât remember. All he knew was that his vision went red for a moment and when he came to, the gang was running away while the leader was nowhere in sight.
He was out of breath and all the pain seemed to set into his bones at one time. He felt as though his entire body was hit by a truck and all he wanted to do was rest. Slowly picking himself up, he attempted to take a few steps, only to feel a hand on his shoulder.
âHey, you alright?â The voice was unfamiliar, but Kihyun was too tired to fight back. If the guy wanted to kill him, he could. All he wanted to do was sleep.
âIâŚI need to get homeâŚâ He could barely keep his eyes open, but he caught a glimpse of the owner of the voice before he fell into unconsciousness. Tan skin, a handsome face and plump lips.
The next morning, he woke up in his bed with a pain that nearly knocked him out once more. Looking around blindly, he spotted TV on in the corner and slowly heard sound emitting from the device. It was a news report.
ââŚHave discovered a body in the water today. The identity of the man is known to be a local troublemaker in Busan and was last seen at a bar near Gangnam. There were no signs of a struggle, but the police believe that this act was no doubt, murder as the victim was pushed over the bridge to his death. If anyone has any tips regarding the case, please contact the police immediately.â
Kihyun felt his blood run cold. That man⌠he had killed him. Before the panic could set in, another picture popped up. A face that Kihyun had only seen for a moment, but it was engraved in his mind.
âPolice have also caught sightings of Son Hyunwoo, famous thief and killer that tends to roam around Seoul. Please call if you see him, he is dangerous and a threat to everyone he comes across.â
Kihyun looked at the picture on the screen, then looked at his surroundings. Had he really seen the same man? What kind of âDangerous threatâ was that man to let someone who had seen his face, go home free?
The raven-haired boy looked at his hands, then blinked in confusion. Now that he thought about it, how had he made it home last night? He couldâve sworn he had passed out on the road, so howâŚ?
Glancing at his bed stand, he spotted his wallet with a small note beside it. Deciding to read the note, he read through the chicken scratch with a hum.
Sorry, I used your I.D to find your address. I made sure to put it back, and I didnât steal any money or any of your cards. I hope you get better soon. Make sure not to get caught up in any more problems, I wonât be there to save you every time.
                                                            H.
âHyunwooâŚâ Kihyun murmured, looking out his window with a hum. The weather seemed nice, despite the clouds of confusion surrounding his mind.
It wouldnât be until much later, that Kihyun began to look out the window every morning from that day onwards, not even noticing his acrophobia.
*
Kihyun used that day as a push to work harder every day. He kept his job at the cafĂŠ and continued to go to school, but he was getting involved in special activities outside of his daily routine.
It started off as a hitman job. He had to kill one target and he would get enough money to pay off a semester of school. The job went without a hitch, and he went undetected. He learned from that first mission that he was a tactical killer and worked best with long range weapons.
One target turned into two, then a dozen before Kihyun began to lose track. He was becoming headline news, but no one knew where he could be found or what he even looked like. He worked at separate times on certain days, so his methods and targets couldnât be connected. He killed each target a different day with a different weapon, like a true killer would.
No matter how many targets he encountered and no matter how much money he would receive, Kihyun always felt restless. He felt like he was searching for something and that by killing he would get closer to finding that âsomethingâ, but he always fell short.
He had been killing for over two years by this point, and had accumulated more stress than he had thought possible. He never went out to bars or clubs in fear of getting caught, but the pain in his temples was growing to be too much to bear.
Tucking his tools into his bag, he walked off to a local bar. The air was filled with the scent of whiskey, chicken and cheap cigarettes, but he didnât hesitate to sit at the bar. He ordered a gin and tonic and paid in cash, when someone sat down beside him.
âLong time no see.â The man said, taking back a glass of water with a small grin.
Kihyun nearly spit out his drink in surprise. Thereâs no way, could it really beâŚ? âHyunwoo?â He whispered, not daring to speak any louder.
Hyunwoo nodded, his eyes focused on Kihyun as he smiled. âMinhyuk told me you were looking for someone.â
âWord gets around too fast at the Bureau.â Kihyun muttered with a blush. Once his killings had become more frequent and his description got passed around, Kihyun was picked up by an infamous, but very tightly secured, assassinâs group. Minhyuk was one of his colleagues, known for his gruesome way of killing and his love for his vigilante ways. Everyone on the street knew his name, so it was no surprise that a criminal like Hyunwoo knew who Minhyuk was.
âThatâs what happens when you work with others, your business can get out pretty fast. But, to each their own.â Hyunwoo hummed, finishing his water and leaning against the counter, his eyes never moving. âSo, what brings you out on this fine night? Do you have work?â
It sounded casual, but the word âworkâ fell a bit too heavy on his tongue. âNot tonight. I just needed some fresh air and something strong to calm my mind.â
âWant to talk about it?â
âThere isnât much to talk about.â Kihyun shrugged, keeping his eyes on the counter of the bar. He honestly wondered if he was dreaming. Itâs not like he knew Hyunwoo personally, and Hyungwon didnât know him, so why were they chatting like they were old friends?
âItâs been two years since I last saw you. Youâve grown up well.â The older man commented, his tone casual, as though the last time they had seen each other Kihyun hadnât just killed a man after getting brutally mugged and beaten.
âAnd youâve been on the news a lot lately.â Kihyun sighed, then added, âNot that I care or anything. But you should be more careful.â
Hyunwoo smiled at this, his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners as he considered Kihyun with a dimpled grin. âI donât really care if I get caught. But Iâll see if I can take your advice and not get into so much trouble, as long as you give me something in return.â
âSomething in return?â Kihyun echoed, eyebrows raised in curiosity. His drink was gone and he had only had one, but his mind felt strangely light for some reason.
Leaning in close so no one could overhear, Hyunwoo brushed his lips along Kihyunâs ear. âSpend the night with me.â
âWhat?!â Kihyun exclaimed, pulling away to look at Hyunwoo with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. The barâs attention shifted to the two men, but Hyunwoo quickly pulled the boy closer to hide their faces. Soon, the patrons went back to whatever conversations they were having without a care in the world.
âI want to spend a night with you. It may sound sudden and strange but⌠Iâve been searching everywhere for you. Please, just one night.â The tanned male whispered, his voice filled with honesty and something like desperation.
Kihyun was silent for a moment, taking in the information with a purse of his lips. He wondered what was going on in Hyunwooâs mind, to make such a decision so suddenly.
But then Kihyun remembered the day after the bridge incident, how confused and curious he was about the man in front of him. How he wanted to see his face again, to see if he truly was the man people said he was on TV.
And maybe, he wanted to do a little more than just talk as a thank you.
âMy place or yours?â Kihyun mumbled. Hyunwoo laughed.
 *
Hyunwooâs apartment was simple. Clean hardwood floors with white furniture, a small kitchen and an even smaller bathroom. There were no picture frames or trophies, no signs that anyone truly lived here, save for the dirty plate in the sink and the toothbrush holder in the bathroom.
The taller man locked the door behind them, making sure no one was following them as he took off his jacket. He gently removed Kihyunâs jacket without a word, hanging it up in a small closet before putting on his slippers. (Bunny slippers, strangely.)
âWelcome to my humble abode. Please, make yourself comfortable.â Hyunwoo announced with his usual smile. âCan I get you water or some snacks? I just bought some double stuffed Oreos if youâd like.â
âIâm good.â Kihyun smiled, placing his shoes by the door before sitting on the couch with a nervous hum. âItâs so quiet in here.â
âYeah, this area has always been a quiet neighborhood. It was perfect for me to do my jobs at night, since itâs in such a rural area, and it keeps me calm on my days off. Perfect place to read on a rainy day, trust me.â
Kihyun imagined Hyunwoo laying down on his bed, body fatigued after a long mission, before pulling out his favorite book with a pair of glasses perched on his nose as the rain pattered on the window. The scene was strangely out of context for the younger male, but it seemed to fit Hyunwoo in the most perfect of ways.
âSo, tell me about you.â Hyunwoo pulled Kihyun from his thoughts, the large man sitting beside the younger with an open expression despite his large arms flexing to get comfortable.
âNot much to tell. Just a hitman that kills for money.â Kihyun avoided Hyunwooâs eyes, focusing on the TV even though it wasnât on.
Hyunwoo wasnât satisfied, but kept his expression. âWhen we met, you looked like a college kid. Did you get your degree?â
The younger boy hesitated before nodding. âYeah. In photography.â
âOh? A photographer? Do you have any tips for me to brighten up this pace a bit? I could use an artistâs opinion.â
Kihyun thought the older was kidding, but saw nothing but an expression of curiosity on the maleâs face. Man, talk about serious. Does he ever tell a joke?
âMaybe⌠some pictures of sunsets or oceans, to give the place a bit of color.â Kihyun suggested slowly, looking over the bare walls and empty table tops. âAnd some plants. They donât have to be real if you arenât good with upkeeping, but the green will give this place some life and the perfect amount of color.â
He turned his head to see Hyunwooâs expression, to find him leaning in close to Kihyunâs face. The younger didnât move, his heart skipping oddly in his chest when Hyunwooâs lips were only a few inches away from his. The air was thick with anticipation, their breathing almost deafening in the silence.
âWhat is a beautiful man like you, doing as an assassin?â Hyunwoo finally whispered, his eyes never leaving Kihyunâs as he placed his hand on the youngerâs cheek.
Kihyun didnât flinch. âI could ask you the same thing.â
âMaybe weâre both just fucked up and like to kill for fun?â Hyunwoo suggested, his tongue slowly dragging across his lower lip and causing Kihyunâs breath to hitch in his throat.
âOr maybe⌠weâre just looking for somewhere to belong.â Kihyun could hardly hear his own voice. But Hyunwoo heard it and smiled.
âThat stuff you were saying about colors. Iâd like to work on that now.â
âRight now?â Kihyun echoed, slightly turned off by the change in conversation.
âYeah. For starters, I love that shade of pink on your cheeks.â Hyunwoo smiled, and it was the last thing Kihyun saw before their lips connected and he let go of everything.
He had no idea how they made it from the couch to the bed. His mouth was moving eagerly against Hyunwooâs, sliding fingerâs in the olderâs hair as he touched and kissed every inch of skin he could reach. Their mouths were desperate and playful, their eyes filled with happiness and hunger as Kihyun laid back on the bed.
They stripped each other of their clothing and kissed once more, Kihyunâs hands caressing the planes of Hyunwooâs broad shoulders and arms, while Hyunwoo caressed Kihyunâs face and down to the smooth planes of his back. Every touch was searing to the skin and Kihyunâs face grew flushed as soft moans left his lips.
Soon, Hyunwoo was covering Kihyun in soft kisses and licks, marking the porcelain skin with sharp bites and pretty bruises. Kihyun could feel and see only Hyunwoo and felt his heart nearly stop in his chest as the older made love to Kihyunâs body.
All Kihyun felt was bliss, from the way Hyunwoo sucked him off, to the way Hyunwoo filled him to the brim when they became one. They fit like a lock and key and Kihyun was lost in the pleasure as Hyunwoo rolled his hips. It was too sweet to be called sex and too powerful to be called making love. But Kihyun felt both and he couldnât get enough.
By the time he came, his lips were bruised and his body was worn and covered in marks but he didnât care. He kissed Hyunwoo drunkenly, addicted to the intoxicating fire that was the older man. Hyunwoo didnât seem to mind, as he held Kihyun to his chest and made love to him all night, both reaching their climaxes over and over again until the sky outside was beginning to fade into morning.
They rested for a while, Kihyunâs head on Hyunwooâs chest, both bodies tangled under a thin sheet. Kihyun was drifting into unconsciousness with Hyunwooâs fingers in his hair, when the older boy whispered. âLook at that beautiful sunrise.â
Turning his head lazily to the window, Kihyun took in the swirls of pink and purple along the horizon with a hum. He had his eyes forward, not looking anywhere else as he chuckled. âI have a fear of heights.â
âWhyâs that?â Hyunwoo hummed.
âDunno. Iâve always been like this.â
âI have a trick to help you.â The older sat up slightly, leaning down so he was face-to-face with the younger male.
âAnd that is?â Kihyun blinked.
âWhenever youâre up high, donât look down. Always keep your eyes ahead, on the horizon. You need to focus on whatâs ahead of you, not whatâs below you. That always helps me whenever Iâm up too high.â
âDoes that really help?â Kihyun wondered aloud.
âI mean, it helped when I was making love to you. I was focused on you and your beauty, I couldnât look away even if I wanted to. Youâre my sunrise.â Hyunwoo admitted with a grin.
âOh, youâre good.â Kihyun blushed heavily, hitting Hyunwoo on the chest with a playful smile. âYou donât even know me that well.â
âMaybe not. But I donât need to know you inside and out to know that youâre a man that comes along once in every lifetime. Youâre special, and you deserve all of the happiness in the world.â Hyunwooâs voice was gentle as he placed his hand on Kihyunâs cheek but his eyes were serious.
Kihyun rolled his eyes in a playful manner but it felt bitter. âIâve already chosen my fate. I canât go back on it now.â
âMaybe you could.â Hyunwoo smiled as he laid Kihyun against the pillows, kissing along the boyâs neck with a low rumble in his throat. âI have an idea.â
Kihyun blushed at the kisses but would never admit it. âTell me after another round.â
âYou have a crazy high sex drive for someone so small.â Hyunwoo commented with a laugh.
âGood thing you can handle it.â Kihyun grinned, pinning down Hyunwoo in a powerful kiss as they began another round.
*
As time passed, Kihyun and Hyunwoo began to learn more about each other. They werenât romantically involved, other than the few rendezvous at Hyunwooâs house whenever they happened to catch each other at the bar, but it felt like they had known each other for years. Kihyun didnât have to feel guarded around Hyunwoo, while Hyunwoo didnât have to hide who he was around Kihyun.
They went out to eat (in disguise) watched movies together, they even went shopping for groceries one night (âI want cookies!â âIâll make them then, because store bought cookies taste like crap, Hyunwoo.â). Everything seemed normal, domestic even.
In Kihyunâs mind, he knew that it would be their downfall.
An idea had popped into Hyunwooâs head one night while he and Kihyun were lying in bed. They both had finished their jobs for the night and Kihyun was curled into Hyunwooâs neck. Sensing the maleâs tension, Kihyun tilted his head. âWhatâs on your mind?â He whispered.
âLetâs run away.â Hyunwoo stated, his voice deep and sure.
âRunaway? To where?â The younger boy felt his eyebrows furrow at the thought of leaving, not a bad idea, but one that left a twinge of nervousness in his stomach.
Hyunwoo sat up, his eyes on the ceiling. âAnywhere but here. It doesnât matter where we go. Weâll be away from this shitty city and we wonât have to hurt anyone just to survive⌠We can start our lives the way we want it to be. No more killing or hiding. Weâll be free.â
âThereâs no such thing as freedom for people like us.â The younger male sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned into one of the forgotten pillows.
âLetâs make our own freedom.â Hyunwoo persisted as he looked at Kihyun, his eyes filled with longing and earnest. âI promise, I can get us our freedom. We can do this. Trust me, Kihyun.â
With some words of reassurance and extra kisses, Kihyun reluctantly agreed. He wanted to believe in Hyunwooâs words, but he knew deep down they wouldnât be able to achieve freedom.
They were going to get caught. There was no hope for criminals like them, but he wanted to believe in Hyunwoo. So he did his best to push the negative thoughts from his mind.
*
The plan was set a few months later in early April. They did their jobs as usual, staying under the radar as they killed and stole like normal. Kihyunâs higher ups didnât suspect a thing, so if they were to act, it had to be soon.
Meanwhile, Kihyun was feeling more and more comfortable with Hyunwoo. He visited him weekly and practically lived at Hyunwooâs place. He trusted the other with his darkest secrets, his fears and even his dreams. He began to trust Hyunwoo with his life and something even more precious.
Kihyun trusted Hyunwoo with his heart.
It didnât take Kihyun long to figure out that he was in love with the tall, nerdy and strong dweeb that was Hyunwoo. Kihyun was so in love he could barely hold the confession in, but he intended to keep the emotions in check for the time being. He would tell Hyunwoo how he felt someday.
On the day of the operation, Hyunwoo sent Kihyun a simple message:
Seoul Tower, 6pm.
Making sure to hide his face under his favorite black hoodie, Kihyun made his way to Seoul Tower. He was fully armed, his eyes watching every person that walked by without fail. Always cautious and always aware, Kihyun was prepared for anything and everything.
He looked up at a large building, noticing a huge clock on the side of it. He stared at the time: 5:55 pm.
He had no reason to be worried He was always early whenever it came to meetings or missions. He decided to play on his phone while he waited.
Soon, it was 6:02 pm.
Then 6:10. Still no sign of Hyunwoo.
6:15.
6:30.
As Kihyun began to fidget in worry, he looked up at another skyscraper, the brightly lit sign showing a news bulletin that had just come in.
âAuthorities have captured the infamous Son Hyunwoo, after a five-year man-hunt. The police caught him trying to head towards the inner parts of Seoul on foot and have taken him into custody.â
It was as though everything happened in slow motion. He saw the footage of Hyunwoo being taken away by two officers, his face panicked before it turned into something more calm, his body relaxed despite being cuffed.
All around Kihyun, people were stopping to watch the footage. Many people cheered, happy to have a âcriminal like that off the streetâ, while others went on their way with the news report playing on their phones.
Kihyun was frozen to the spot. He wanted to scream to everyone that Hyunwoo wasnât what the media made him out to be. He didnât have a choice in what he did and he was truly a beautiful man from the inside and out. He was sweet and warm and kind, he knew how to give the best hugs and knew how to be sweet despite a dire situation. He was more than just a news headline but no one seemed to notice.
No one seemed to care.
Kihyun ran all the way to Hyunwooâs apartment, hoping that it was just a dream. The older had given Kihyun a spare key, but Kihyun settled for breaking the door open with his foot in a wild panic.
There was no Hyunwoo in the kitchen making breakfast. No singing coming from the bathroom, nor was the TV on in the living room. The apartment was empty and it truly looked as though no one lived there.
With tears blurring his vison, Kihyun covered his eyes with his arms, doing his best not to break down. He knew this would happen, he knew that one of them would get caught. He never shouldâve gotten involved with Hyunwoo, he never shouldâve let his heart be so shakenâŚ
No matter how much he tried to convince himself, he couldnât find any regret in meeting Hyunwoo, for he loved the older man too much to regret meeting him. The love, the laughter and even the hope of running away, was worth it.
Tearing his arm from his face with a sniffle, he glanced around the room. It was quiet and it smelled of Hyunwoo. Sitting on the couch, Kihyun moved to get comfortable, when he felt something strange under his legs.
Moving to figure out what it was, his hand brushed over a piece of paper. Picking it up, Kihyun felt a smile fill his face as he read what was written on it.
This wasnât the end.
*
Kihyun looked over the crowd from above, the letter sitting in his palm underneath his knife. He waited for a few minutes in silence before pulling out one of the guns strapped to his thigh.
Holding it up high, he pulled off the safety and fired one bullet. Then another.
The sun had finally set and the shots could hardly be heard from below.
But one person seemed to hear it.
Through the sea of people, one tall figure stood out above the rest in a black hoodie, ripped jeans and an unmistakable smile. A face that could be recognized anywhere.
Kihyun stood up slowly, gathering his belongings and leaving the way he came. The elevator took too long, so he decided to take the stairs, taking steps two at a time as his heart began to race in his chest.
When he was one story above ground, he saw the figureâs face and felt his face tug into a smile. The window separating them was open, so he climbed onto the ledge and jumped.
It wasnât a far drop and the figure caught Kihyun with ease. His arms were warm and strong, his scent like a tranquilizer to the assassinâs heart. He clung to the male, whispering only one word, a name.
âHyunwooâŚâ He breathed, his voice cracking.
Hyunnwoo smiled softly, hugging Kihyun close as he hid their faces from view, even though no one seemed to notice them. âYou still up for running away? I got a car waiting for us and a monthâs worth of supplies.â
Kihyun raised his head to look at the other with a frown. âI havenât heard from you in almost two years and you suddenly appear out of nowhere? Did jail turn your brains to mush?!â
âI know you waited out here every day for me and that you left the Bureau. I know hiding isnât easy and I couldnât contact you and Iâm sorry. Iâm sorry for making you wait, so let me make it up to you, my love.â Hyunwoo whispered, placing soft kisses on Kihyunâs face.
âSo⌠weâre running away?â Kihyun mumbled.
âIf my Sunrise will give me the opportunity, I would love to run away with you.â Hyunwoo blushed at Kihyunâs reaction to the nickname, his eyes soft.
âSince you kept me waiting until now, I guess I can let my Sunset take me wherever he wants to go.â Kihyun conceded slowly, his eyes playful as he hugged Hyunwooâs neck.
Hyunwoo nodded, leading the way to where the getaway car mustâve been. Kihyun was silent as Hyunwoo walked, memories of the past few years filling his mind. How he had gone from a normal college kid to an assassin was beyond him, but there was something he noticed.
âHyunwoo?â
âHm?â
âThanks for catching me. Iâm not afraid of heights anymore.â Kihyun mumbled, hoping the other wouldnât hear his raw confession.
But of course, Hyunwoo heard it and he stopped in his tracks to place a deep kiss on Kihyunâs lips. It wasnât hungry or desperate, it was soft and passionate, and filled to the brim with enough passion and emotion to leave both gasping for air.
âIâll always catch you when you fall, you have nothing to fear anymore. I love you, Kihyun.â Hyunwoo hummed, holding Kihyun tighter than he ever had before.
Kihyun let the other hold him for a while before he chuckled. âLetâs continue this conversation in our getaway hotel. You have a lot of making up to do.â
âBelieve me, Iâm never leaving your side again. Youâre gonna get so much love from me, you may not be able to handle all of it.â Hyunwoo laughed, leading them to the car and helping the smaller into the passengerâs seat. Once they were settled in, they began to drive and left the city life behind them.
Sure, they both had fought and killed, but they were humans too. They found their freedom in each other, so maybe, just maybe, assassins can have a happy ending just like the movies.
But theyâll have weapons packed, just in case.
I hope everyone enjoyed my long-awaited return! I hope to do a lot more writing this time around, Iâm working on another fic as we speak and it should be up by tomorrow night at the latest! Feel free to inbox me any requests or asks, I would love to hear from you guys! ~xoxo, Selena
#showki#monstax#monsta x fanfic#monsta x imagines#monstabaebae#kihyun#shownu#minhyuk#assassin au#kpop fanfic#fanfic
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if you are sincere then i apologize for lumping you in with the rest of the people that i believed i was addressing, but iâm not going to apologize for the way i feel or behave regarding that group of people.
since i donât know who you are i canât know whether you truly are in good faith or not, but like i said, i have received multiple bad faith asks about misha in the past several months, many of them accusing him of horrible things, while also receiving a dozen+ messages from at least one person who i know is a rabid w*ncest/j2 shipper who takes things so far over the line itâs sickening. they also send the same identical ask to many other destiel blogs, harassing us for months with both incredibly rude and insulting asks as well as bad faith messages posing as one of us and trying to spread bad rumors as if theyâre part of our group and âjust concernedâ about the smear campaign theyâre trying to instigate.
if you want to go back through my asks for the last several months you can see what iâm describing, and i know that lots of others blogs can testify to receiving the same asks, as i said. the person(s) sending these messages is very disturbed.
so again, i apologize if i mistook you for those people, presuming that you arenât the same antagonist who is just posturing further, but if you find some of the asks in question youâll easily be able to see how your ask resembled theirs.
i donât put any credence in rumors being spread around twitter or reddit, especially when the rumors are of the same type that i know these people have tried to spread. and i am not the one making it about âshipping warsâ, the people who have been trying to smear misha for years, literally for no other reason than because they hate him for getting in the way of them shipping w*ncest and jensen/jared, are the ones who have actually harmed a real person because of a fucking tv show.
if you know nothing about the context of this entire situation then i can understand why my last reply would confuse and disappoint you, but iâm speaking as someone whoâs been here a long time and seen a lot of bullshit. there is a subsection of this fandom who has made it their job to ruin mishaâs life. they have said every horrible thing about him and his family that you can imagine, they have threatened him, they even made an attempt at bodily harming him at a convention. misha was brought to tears in a post-series interview when he was asked about what affect these people have had on him.
these are vile, malicious people who make deliberate attempts to tarnish mishaâs reputation, and have done so over and over for years. it doesnât surprise me at all that theyâre taking this opportunity to spread rumors on twitter and reddit, and it doesnât surprise me that well-intentioned but inexperienced folks would want to take the allegations seriously, because âbelieve survivorsâ and everything. thatâs why theyâre trying to take advantage of.
i am not just blindly defending a celebrity i like, engaging in shipping wars, or parasocializing; i am speaking as someone who has experienced bad faith actors cruelly attempting to harm a person whom i have never otherwise heard a bad word about.Â
once more, i apologize if i directed the anger i feel towards these people at someone who didnât deserve it and was genuinely asking in good faith, but if you are a decent person, i think that if you were to see the sort of damage these people have done and what more theyâve tried to do, you would be similarly infuriated, and i dare say youâd probably want to kick their asses in a parking lot too.
I feel like you will give me a smart and reasonable answer. What us with all these rumors about Misha being a creep. He's been mentioned alongside Barrowman the last few days in regards to conning fans, upskirting and asking fans to send questionable images as well as transphobia.
i apologize if iâm wrong, but i feel like this is a bad faith question from someone who already hates misha, because in the last ~6 months iâve gotten multiple bad faith asks from people who hate misha.
iâm aware that there are some allegations of john barrowman behaving inappropriately on set (stories of him exposing himself, not assaulting anyone), but iâve been in this fandom since 2013 and iâve literally never heard a single story about misha behaving like a creep EXCEPT for ones that came from maliciously spread rumors. never.
misha is a flawed human being like us all, but as far as male celebrities go, he appears to be a fucking saint. he is kind and considerate and he apologizes when he messes up. he is absolutely not transphobic, as iâve personally witnessed him openly supporting trans people. i do not believe he would ever behave like a creep, especially to fans.Â
iâve briefly met him a few times, and i have a good friend who has met him many times and spoken to him at length; from those secondhand stories i can tell you that the man is an actual damn angel. he is unbelievably kind and encouraging and sincere.
i, however, am a little bit less kind, because i would love to meet you and you ilk in a parking lot and kick your fucking ass for trying to ruin a manâs career for, what? getting in the way of your ship? annoying you for being on your tv show?Â
grow the FUCK UP. this is a REAL PERSON you are trying to spread baseless rumors about. havenât you already done enough to make his life a living hell? youâre pathetic.
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Ever the Optimist
Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC (Reagan Carr)
Warnings: Language(I think), fighting, violence, blood, death, angst
Word Count: 3300+
Summary: Reaganâs watched over Steve, letting him adjust to the changes since the Civil War, only allowing herself be the best of friends she could be to Steve despite wanting so much more. Reagan was only so patient. She was tired of waiting, she needed to tell him everything she kept inside. But things always seemed to get in the way.Â
A/N: So uh... yeah, Iâm gonna start off with âIâm sorry.â Iâm working on part 6 of Vanish in the Dark, so I pulled up an older one shot I had stashed away to post until I get that part done. Again, Iâm sorry. I really didnât mean to lead it this way. Maybe I could write a second part? But it all depends on what you guys think. Enjoy the read! After post edit because I forgot: I donât have anything wrong with Sharon, it just fit the story line I made. Iâm sure Steve really didnât think it was strange, and neither did the others think much of it.Â
The gifs, not mine. Credit to the wonderful owner.
Reagan had always considered herself a patient person. Recently however, she was finding that harder and harder to believe. She knew it would take some time for him to comfortable with having another relationship beyond friendship, especially after his last relationship. Steveâs and Sharonâs breakup wasnât messy; it simply wasnât pleasant. Something clicked in the man after several dates, coming to see the how strange their relationship was or as he put it at one point, ânot for him.â That was nearly a year and a half ago, and much had happened. Tony had asked for the broken team to come back together, the time apart helping him realize that maybe what Steve and the others had done wasnât so bad. After all, they did stop a revenged driven man, found a way to eliminate Buckyâs triggers, and even managed to uncover the real reason behind the Accord. Tony even had come to terms that it wasnât Bucky who killed his parents, at least not willingly. So, he sucked it up and asked them to come back home, no strings attached.
It was awkward at first, especially when Bucky returned from Wakanda. Reagan had joined a month after the group had returned and watched as they fumble their way around another, until finally they slid back into routine. She watched Steve date Sharon, not knowing the whole story between them, but Sam fed her enough to know what all had taken place between the two of them. While Reagan wasnât fond of the woman, she wasnât going to be the reason why Steve had his only living memory of Peggy ruined.
Reagan never pushed her feelings on Steve, instead choosing to remain as the best friend that she could to him. It had begun with simple hellos and small conversations as they passed in the hall and common areas. Reagan would ask Steve how his day was, how he was. Â The first few times, it caught him off guard, he wasnât often asked about himself. He would recover and respond in kind, finding himself excited to share a few words with her throughout the day. It wasnât until a rather rough mission that their friendship blossomed into what it was now.
Steve had returned late, exhausted both mentally and physically. Reagan was sitting on the couch reading a book in the living room when the group passed through. They mumbled their good nights before disappearing in their rooms. Steve, however, stood at the end of the couch, his eyes glazed over. Reagan took one look at him to know what he needed. Grabbing his hand, she led him to his room with a soft command to shower, dress comfy and return to the living room once he was done. He followed without a second thought, something Reagan found adorable in how he blindly took her orders.
She gathered his pillows and a few blankets from his bed and hurried back to the living room to get set up. When Steve emerged twenty minutes later he was stunned to see the room transformed. The coffee table was pushed aside, blankets spread out on the floor, and pillows piled up against the couch. The TV pulled up with some show that Reagan had sworn Steve would enjoy watching. Reagan sat at the center, smiling widely up at the tired soldier. It didnât take any coaxing on her end to get Steve to lay out beside her, a blanket tucked around him and a bowl of popcorn with M&Ms mixed in between the two of them. They spent the rest of the evening binging until Steve dozed off into a peaceful sleep, the first he had had in years.
Since that night, the two were inseparable. Steve would never be far from her, always searching for her in a room. She brought a side out of him he never thought heâd see again, he was happy and so was she. He laughed more, opened more around others, and even seemed more comfortable in his own skin. She introduced him to so many things, taught him how to cook(without lighting the pan on fire) and how to work an iPhone. He still couldnât figure out the whole emoticon and face timing thing. She would just smile and lend him a hand when he needed it. She was always kind to him, patient when his age started to show. There were still phrases he had never heard, and more were being made each day. Instead of letting it overwhelm him, he hunted Reagan down. She thought it was endearing when he would come up to her looking like a lost puppy.
Another thing she noticed was Steve always seemed to have to be touching her, whether it was a gentle hand on her waist when they stood in the kitchen, or gently touching her thigh when they were cuddled up on the couch watching a movie. Reagan would smile each time heâd unconsciously brush a hair from her face, not wanting to bring attention to the small habit he had built. It was a comforting touch to him, it kept him grounded. It helped that she also loved the attention she got from him in those moments.
The others teased they had something going, but Steve would always smile at them and shake his head. She was a friend, and one he wasnât willing to lose. He kept everything to himself, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach, and pretended he wasnât watching the way her hips would sway as she would leave the room. Â He wasnât ever going to act on it, no matter how much his heart hurt in his chest when he thought of one day her finding someone else. She was too important, too special. So he went about what he was doing, spending as much time as he could with her.
Theyâd have several more nights spread out in front of the TV, going through the list of shows and movies. Sometimes Bucky would join, the first time a bit awkward as he settled on the other side of Reagan. But after the third movie and second tub of popcorn, Bucky was sprawled out, forcing Reagan to shift a bit closer to Steve to give the man room. After that he would pop in from time to time, sometimes dragging Sam or Natasha along with. Reagan never minded the group that suddenly grew, though she did miss having alone time with Steve. She had to admit, her favorite nights were when Tony and Bruce would join in. Tony would spend the whole night throwing popcorn at Bruce, seeing how long it would take the man to snap at him to stop. Bruce had mentioned it in passing to her that he didnât mind, it meant he didnât have to reach for the bowl when he wanted popcorn. Â
Occasionally Reagan and Steve would find themselves alone, the group sensing they wanted their own time together. It was times like that that Reagan didnât mind living with a group of trained assassins and spies that could sense social cues. She never would tell them to leave them though. As tough as they might seem out on the field, they really were a fragile bunch that needed the comfort from one another. Unfortunately, it almost meant she was too.
Reagan wanted to tell Steve, she really did. But it seemed like every time she tried, something would come up. The perfect example being hours ago. Reagan had everything planned out, right down to where she practically cornered Steve. But right as she was about to ask him, Tony had chimed in through the speakers.
âWe have a mission! Meeting room. Both of you. Now!â
Reagan visibly deflated, and Steve only thought it was because of knowing theyâd have a mission. He didnât know she had things planned, no one did. Ignoring the frustration mounting in her, Reagan followed Steve to the briefing room.
She supposed she would simply have to wait until they got back. Reagan snorted at that thought. Ever the optimistic. The mission was supposed to be simple, they had a lead there was important intel hiding in an abandon Hydra hideout. A supposed Hydra hideout. In hindsight, the lead wasnât from the greatest source, but they were desperate for whatever was in this building. Reagan hadnât listened when Tony explained just what it was, and now she was wishing she had. They managed to enter the hideout without a hitch, but once they went down to the underground bunker, they realized just how ill-informed they were. The hideout was still in use, the empty ground level hiding the activity that was waiting below.
When the group broke through the lower doors, all hell broke loose. Reagan and Natasha somehow got separated from Steve and Clint and then Reagan quickly found herself separated from Natasha. Thatâs how she found herself, half an hour later, cowering behind stacks of boxes in a backroom. The others were still fighting the Hydra agents, struggling to group together. Natasha found Clint, who directed her in the direction of Steve. They had already called for backup, or at least a quick ride out of there once they found Reagan. But that wouldnât be for another two hours before the jetâs would land. Reagan doubted they would make it that long trapped down here with the never ending supply of enemies. She wasnât sure she would make it much longer either.
She could hear the agents running around, angrily shouting to each other to find her. They demanded that she be found, and Reagan could only shutter at the thought at what they do once they did. She was trapped and couldnât answer Steve, only tapping the com so that heâd know she was still living. With each minute that passed, Reagan could hear the mounting anxiety grow in the soldier. Little did she know he was in his own living hell.
The seconds that passed of not knowing where she was, not having her by his side, Steve could feel his sanity slowly slipping away. He hadnât felt this level of anger since the fight with Tony. He was quickly coming to realize that Reagan meant so much more to him than even he let on. He struck down any agent that came at it, his mind turning dark. The longer she was missing, the more danger she was in. So he fought on, swinging punches and picking up the guns to clear out paths. Natasha made the mistake of commenting on his shift, nearly finding herself thrown into a wall. It quickly dawned on Natasha and Clint, Reagan really did mean more to him than any of them thought. They needed to find her quickly to bring their Captain back.
Meanwhile, Reagan hadnât meant to shift so much, but her leg was falling asleep. Her back bumped against the boxes, and one was stacked too close to the edge. The box fell off from the top, a loud slam echoing through the room. Even over the blare of the alarm signals, Reagan knew someone heard the crash. She cursed under her breath, but the group heard the sound through the com.
âReagan, baby, where are you?â Steve croaked. He was struggling not lose it, and her sudden curse didnât help settle him any.
Reagan didnât answer, instead tucked further behind the boxes. She struggled to breathe, and her hands shook from the fear. The shouting grow closer, she could hear them trying to open the door she jammed shut. It sounded as if they were throwing themselves against the door, the boom echoing in the small store room. Again, Reagan cursed.
âReagan!â
Sucking in breath, Reagan knew she wasnât going to have much time left.
âSteve, Iâm okay. Itâs okay.â Reagan didnât even believe herself, but she needed to calm him down. She flinched at a particular slam, and she knew they heard it through the com.
âReagan, where are you? Whatâs going on?â Steve yelled. He needed to find her, he had to. He struck down another agent from another never ending wave. When he finally cleared enough of a path, he used his shield to run down others. Natasha and Clint cover his back while he lost himself in his anger. Steve charged through the halls, searching for an sign of Reagan. It wasnât until he turned the corner of one hall that he saw a group struggling to open a door at the end. Instantly, he knew where she was.
âHey!â He shouted, pulling their attention from the door. Reagan heard his scream, and she almost sobbed in relief. Relief that was short lived. Half the agents went after to block Steve, while the rest continued on the door. They were so close, the door groaning in protest as it bent to unjam.
Steve brought the few down that charged at him without a momentâs hesitation, his anger growing with each punch. The blood rushed to his ears and he struggle to catch his breath. They were keeping him from Reagan. Those that struggled with the door grew frantic as Captain America grew closer. One of them threw himself at the door in a final effort. The door swung open at his weight, breaking open after the many attempts.
Reagan shrank further behind the stacks, her heart beat loud in chest. She didnât dare look over the boxes, she knew it wasnât Steve. She could hear Steve, a roar reverberating through the halls. Reagan didnât understand why, she couldnât see the way the two at the door raised their guns to the room. The agents didnât bother to search the room, they werenât given orders to keep any of the Avengers alive. The two agents opened fire, aiming through the stacks of boxes right as Steve threw his shield. He prayed it wasnât too late, that whatever God was up there would be kind.
The scream of agony that came from the room, that mirrored the one in the com proved he was too late. For a split second, Steve felt his heart stop. And then the monster he kept locked away came roaring to the front. He didnât remember grabbing the first man, or throwing him full force into the wall. He didnât hear the snap of the manâs spine from the angle he hit the wall, but if he knew he would have hardly cared. Steve had no recollection of grabbing the second, who was watching in frozen horror at the rage behind Captain Americaâs eye. Steve only remembered Natasha grabbing his arm, stopping him from continuing to beat in the agentâs face. Red cover his fists, and he knew it wasnât just the agents blood mixed in the red. The agentâs face was marred beyond recognition, the life of the man having been beaten from him several punches earlier.
Steve dropped the body in horror, his stomach nearly turning in on itself. Natasha gave him no time to focus on what he had done.
âSteve, Reagan needs you.â She ushered him into the room, standing at the entrance to guard the hall. Without a seconds hesitation he bolted into the room, calling out for Reagan amongst the pile of boxes. A faint whisper of his name was his only answer in the room. He was grateful for his super human hearing, surely he would have missed it, and moved around the boxes towards the sound. His heart stopped when he saw her hand first, and then the pool of blood that she laid in.
âNo.â He gasped, stumbling to her side. He fell to his knees heavily, immediately searching for the wound. Blood seemed to be flowing from her, her eyes fluttering as he attempted to located the source. Steve had begun chanting pleas under his breath, finding the three bullet holes and applying pressure the best he could.
Reagan could only watch as he struggled, all her strength having left her in an instant. She felt so tired, so cold, the color of the world around her fading to black. But when she saw Steve, it was like all the sounds and colors in the world came back. Even though she fought to breath, her arms felt heavier as she reach a blood cover hand to cradle Steveâs face.
He froze at her cold touch, his eyes turning to lock with hers. Steveâs face pinched, breath coming in rapid succession as he came to realize just why she was using what little strength she had. Â Reagan smiled as best she could, tears starting to build in the corner of her eye. Everything she wished to tell him was bubbling up to the top, and her time was running thin.
âNo, baby. Donât.â Steve pleaded, holding in the sobs and turned his face to kiss her palm. âPlease, just save your strength. Weâre going to get you out of here.â
Reagan knew it wasnât true, she could feel her time coming to an end. The colors Steve brought back were fading around the edges of her eyes, darkness quickly closing in. She had to say what she wanted to say, before it was too late.
As Reagan struggled to find the last ounce of strength, Steve shouted to Natasha to find a way out of here, that Reagan had to live. Reagan was so focused on forming the words, she missed to confirmation of back up. Her eyes never left Steveâs, who was still struggling to stop the bleeding. She didnât miss the way his blue eyes were rimmed with red, tears having begun to spill from the corners. She focused on him, and missed the sounds of familiar voices coming closer towards the end of the hall. She didnât miss how her heart began to slow, the pain she had felt slowly fading away.
âSteve,â She croaked. Hesitantly, he turned towards her. This couldnât be happening. âSteve-I need- I need to- to tell you-â
Reluctantly, Steve pulled a hand away from her hips wound to cradle her face. He shushed her gently, but was stopped once more by her broken voice.
âNo- I need- need to.â It hurt to talk, the pain returning as quickly as it left. She was seeing spot in her vision, and she knew it was now or never. Gently stroking his cheek, she said what she had been wanting to say to him for months. âI love you.â
Steveâs eyes widen, and he did the only thing he could think of in the moment. Dipping his head down, he pressed his lips against her quickly cooling ones. At first she responded, gentle and comforting. But then a horrible moment later, he felt her lips go slack. He watched in horror as her hand slipped down his cheek, and falling limply to the floor.
âNo. No. No! No!â His fingers fumbled to her neck, searching for proof she was still living. Captain America didnât care as the tears he had kept at bay streamed down his face. He didnât care that his screams tore the small store room. He refused to let her go, cradling Reagan closer with each sob. Not even when Tony and Bruce rushed to his side did he let them take.
Natasha stepped up, prying his fingers from Reaganâs body as she tried to reason with him. He needed to let her go, they might have a chance. Steve shook his head begging for Reagan to come back. It wasnât until Bucky emerged and connected his fist with his best friends head did his grip loosen. Steveâs cries of agony were cut short, and the last memory he had before darkness overcame him was the limp body of Reagan being lifted from his grip, her hand falling limply to the side.
#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers x ofc#steve rogers x oc#captain america#captain america imagine#marvel imagine#marvel fanfic#fanfic#ofc#oc#marvel#natasha romanoff#clint barton#bucky barnes#angst#what have i done#don't hurt me#ever the optimist
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Rust to Gold (Part 1)-Jack Jackson series
A/N: Guys!! Itâs finally here. Not sure how many of you have actually seen PotE but, regardless I hope y'all enjoy. I really love the idea I came up with for his series. While Iâm sure it wonât be my popular one, again because I believe not many of you actually know about Jack lol I still adore writing it! Few notes before you read on: Iâm using the tv series timeline not the book. I wonât go into too much detail with her father, but you could say itâs Louis VII of France since he reigned at the time. This starts in 1138 like the show does. I am skipping Jack and Tomâs introduction because thatâs not really needed for reader and Jackâs story. However, Tom is obviously in this and it will contain and follow the majority of the characters and story lines. And yes, some of history will be a little tweaked if for creative purposes. But, since this is mainly on reader itâs not like Iâll have her interfere entirely with history. Itâll be very very minor. Enjoy!
MOOD MUSIC: Throne for the game ft. Bradley Hanan Carter by Ramin Djawadi
***
The dictations of oneâs future was a concept you had grown agonizingly familiar with. Being a woman, your father had every right and determination to choose every aspect of your life for you. No matter the cost of your relationship with him. It was a constant reminder of your duties as princess, to blindly follow those demands of your king. With or without hesitation. And yet, in spite of all that you could not bring yourself to obey him this time. There was moments in your life where ignoring his shouts for proper conduct became a habit, except you often caved to his whims by the end of it. After all, a threat to your life was something you couldnât bear. Now, however, you found the ounce of strength in you to resist his plans.
âYou would deny me? Deny your kingdom?! You ungrateful child! I have given you everything! And you disobey me at every turn!!â
Your fatherâs hands slammed onto the arms of his throne, making you flinch slightly at the loud sound. But, you held your head high tightening your jaw in order to remain the very picture of calm. It was not easy to defy a man like your father, especially when he ruled all of France.
âI would deny you the pleasure of marrying me off to the first man who comes with a bag full of coins and promises of expansion!â
You spat back, breath heavy with contempt for the man who raised you. If thatâs what you could call his lifelong lessons in court. It was a risky move, one that you knew deep down would not end well for you. But, you could not bring yourself to marry just anyone. Your heart was not a bargaining tool, no matter the person wagering it.
âWhat you speak is treason.â His voice grew soft, though the bite behind it was all too clear. âDefy me now, and I will have you hang for this. Do you understand me?â
âI-â
âDo you understand me?!â
Every word sent chills down your spine, and flattering was the only option your mind wished for. Yet, you could not betray your heart of that you were certain. With every courageous spark in you, you straightened up. Rising on your feet again as you clasped your hands in front of you and stared your father, the king, down.
âThen I shall hang.â
If there was ever a time you saw any hope of pride in him for you, it was oddly now. Perhaps it was the bravery you displayed, but for that brief second he smiled. It was altogether shocking and disgusting, but a manâs honor was everything. And proud of the courage you had or not, heâd still move to execute you.
âYou play a dangerous game, child. Take her to the dungeons.â He waved his hand away, not looking at you anymore as the guards neared you. But, you held a hand up keeping your pride about you as you turned away and led yourself down to the bottoms of the hellish castle prison. The guards stuck by you, one hand held above the pommels of their swords and the other holding a shield. You knew if you ran they wouldnât hesitate to kill you. A prince was an heir, a princess was expendable.
As you stepped down the large stone stairs into the dungeons, your heart began to sink. Knowing that every second that went by was bringing you closer to your last breath. Many children would think their fatherâs loved them, no matter their rebellious nature. Yours was not that father. If you slandered his name, you would pay, and denying his pick of a suitor did just that. It was an embarrassment, and now you were going to pay with your life.
âMay I ask a favor of you?â A sigh left your lips, eyes staring into the dark prison you would soon be housed in. The floor was a mess, hay and water scattered amongst the stones. And only one tiny hold of a window that could bring daylight in. âWill you fetch my handmaid for me?â
The guards stood quiet at first, both of them looking to one another for an answer. And if only for the reason that they watched you grow from child to woman, they agreed.
âAt once, your highness.â
It was a needless courtesy on their part, calling you by your title. Because, you knew their allegiance was to the king and only the king. But, you thanked them all the same, following their orders as they gently pushed you into the dungeon. The door behind you slammed shut, the sound of them locking the wooden door only causing your heart to sink further into despair. It shouldnât be a surprise, but the reality of your refusal was now before you.
Time ran slow inside here, you could only count yourself blessed that the sun was still out. It allowed a sliver of light to bathe across your skin, warming you under the dress you wore. A nice comfort in the cold of the prison.
âYour highness!â
The sound of your servant caught your attention, and you rushed to the door to see her through the small bars at the top. It was the first time you get a semblance of joy today, and you reached over the small window to grab her hand.
âMatilda, Iâm so glad you came.
âWhy on earth wouldnât I?â She smiled, though you could see the concern she felt for you. She was always a loyal one, a very rare thing in these times. And her friendship meant a great deal to you. She was originally your playmate, a gift from your father when you were 7. She grew alongside you, and you had come to see her as a sister. She was never a birthday present in your eyes, but always family.
âI fear Iâve made a foolish mistake.â A small laugh left you, but the obvious anguish behind it was evident. Something Matilda easily caught on to. But, ever the sweet one, she brushed her thumb over the back of your hand and shook her head.
âIâve always admired your will, and even now I still do. You cannot marry that awful man. The rumors around him are numerous, and I believe your fate would be the same no matter what you choose.â
She was not wrong, you had heard your fair share of rumors surrounding William Hamleigh. The son of a lord who likely had the archbishop on his purse strings. He held no title to him, but his family was still rich enough and had powerful connections that your father was positively mad for.
âI think youâre rightâŚâ You held her hand tightly, leaning your forehead into the door as you whispered your heartache. âItâs pathetic. I stand by my choice then, but all the same I do my wish for death.â
Matilda was silent, and you thought perhaps she was sharing in your current state of depression. Instead, she released your hand and patted softly on the door.
âI promise, you will not die today.â
It was the last thing she said before running off, leaving you confused and lonely in the growing darkness.
***
Hours went by, and you began to grow nervous for your friend. Whatever she was planning was likely going to cause trouble, but youâd rather take the fall than have her life forfeit on your behalf. You tapped impatiently at the floor, heels digging into the straw as you say against the floor. By now you mustâve looked a mess, as the winter winds grew strong at night and snuck into the lower parts of the castle. If your father waited anymore days, you were likely to succumb to the elements as opposed to the gallows.
A soft knocking gained your ear, and you quickly turned your head towards the door thinking they had come for you in the dead of night. It was an odd choice and time for execution, but perhaps your father was eager to be rid of you.
âYour highness?â
The whisper of her voice made you relax back into the wall, and you smiled as you warned Matilda of her dangerous intentions.
âI know what youâre up to, and itâs too dangerous.â
âNonsense. Just trust me, the perks of being a servant, I know every part of this castle better than you. How else would I sneak food?â
You laughed heartily at that, knowing fully well that she had done so quite often. Not that you could blame her, under your fatherâs rule everyone was likely to starve if he saw fit.
With a click and screech of the lock the door slowly drew open, and you scrambled up to your feet. Matilda stood at the doorway, joyfully smiling as she hugged you to her. The reunion could not last long, because you were sure the guards would catch on quickly.
âYouâve gone mad. Youâll be killed for helping me.â
âDonât worry. Iâll be fine. I promise.â
Ever the optimistic one, you thought. And while you didnât want harm to come to her, she seemed so sure of herself that you willingly followed her down the dungeon halls. Every time you turned a corner you glared both ways, heart going wild in your chest as fear and doubt took over. People rarely escaped from here, and when they tried the end results were far worse than the original sentence.
âThis isnât-â
âShh.â Matilda hushed you, not bothering with a torch as it would prove too risky a move and alert the guards to your locations. She grabbed your hand, nearly running down the halls and under a large gap in the stairs. It led directly into the waterways, and you were slowly realizing just how knowledgeable the servants likely were. It was almost a miracle that none of them had been bribed to assassinate the king with all the secret passageways they knew.
Your dress soaked up the water, making you more than uncomfortable. You were not dressed for skulking about castles, and thankfully she had thought of that.
âPut this on, hurry!â
She shoved a bag of clothes towards you, and you sifted through the bunch. It was not something you wouldâve ever worn around here, and frankly from the looks of the brown robes they belonged to a peasant.
âWhat is this?â
Matilda sighed at you, keeping an eye on the exit of the tunnel as she rushed you.
âYour highness, if you are to live tonight it is because you leave here a commoner. Not a princess of France.â
Her words filled you with a sense of sadness. As much as you despised the man on the throne, this was your home and you loved it. But, there was as always truth to her statements. You reluctantly nodded, allowing her to help you get out of your current attire and into the simple robes of your new identity.
âCome on then, your highness.â
Matilda led you out of the tunnel, her eyes scanning the open field in your view for any sign of possible danger. She pointed towards the hill that led deep into the forest where your father hunted, and with a solemn smile she hugged you.
âYou are meant for great things, Y/N. And it is because of this and our friendship that I happily risk my life for you.â
You dug your fingers into her back, gripping her close to you in a goodbye that would no doubt last forever. You couldnât bear the thought of not having her around, but you couldnât let her help go in vain.
âIâll miss you.â
Matilda smiled at that, kissing your brow before cupping your cheeks and fighting her tears. âAnd I will miss you, my friend.â
She shoved you out of the tunnel, frantically moving her hands for you to get going and leave. You stared back at her every step, only stopping when you were at the edge of the woods to bid her one last heartfelt farewell.
***
You fell forward onto your horse, barely holding the reins as you felt your exhaustion settle in. It had been days upon days since you left France. Traveling on foot for so long before taking a ship to England. The people you met along the way had been decent enough, save for those who desired to rid you of every coin you had. There wasnât much Matilda could give you, but what she had was kind enough. It helped you gain passage along the sea, before you managed to settle a bargain and take a manâs horse. But, your journey was tiring and with no plan on where to go or settle you were left lonesome and nearly poor.
Your stomach grumbled, once again alerting you to your starvation. You couldnât even remember the last time you ate, but every minute reminded you of that painful feeling.
âJust a bit moreâŚâ You patted your horse, trying hard to stay atop him as he traversed the forest paths. It was still winter time, which only proved harsher to your travels. The cloak you wore hardly contained your body heat, and the biting wind hurt far more than you ever imagined. But, you had to force yourself to keep moving on. Hoping at some point your new home would make itself obvious.
âJust a littleâŚ.moreâŚâ Your eyes drifted shut, your mind fighting against sleep until every ounce of willpower you had drained from your body. With a groan of discomfort, you slid sideways falling roughly from the horse and onto the cold ground of the forest. And all at once everything went black.
***
Soft hums and murmuring could be heard somewhere in the endless corners of your dreams. A womanâs comforting tone beckoning you to wake, though you werenât sure if it was real or not. But, it was soothing, reminding you of your mother who had passed so long ago you barely remembered her features.
âMotherâŚ?â
The woman laughed, making you slowly open your eyes to the sound. She was a blur to you, but you could faintly make out the reassuring smile she held. She patted a cloth to your forehead, parting your hair so she could have better access. She was still humming something, whether that was a song or a spell you werenât sure. But, you were still grateful to be here in the warmth of a fire.
âEasy now, you hit your head hard.â
âWhat?â Your voice was hoarse, no doubt from the weather. But, she still understood you and she offered you a cup of water that you were forever thankful for. You drank eagerly from it, almost choking when the soothing liquid ran down your dry throat.
âAhh, careful.â She took the cup from you, placing it aside and patting your cheek. âYou will recover. You must rest though.â
âWho are you?â You forced out, groaning when you turned onto your side. The woman just smiled again, putting some bowls down that contained some sort of salve.
âYou can call me Ellen.â
You nodded in thanks, finding the strength to sit up. You held your arm over your stomach, leaning back into the cave walls and examining the area. It was no doubt this was her home, and while you couldnât exactly believe living in a cave was ideal there was something oddly wonderful about it.
âHungry?â
You glanced towards her, watching her stir a pot of stew on the fire. âOh yes, please.â
Ellen just chuckled again, pouring some food into a bowl and handing it over to you. She walked on her bare feet to the small stool in the corner, continuing her work.
âThank you, for the meal. And everything elseâŚâ
âYou are welcome. We need to take care of each other, yeah? I could not leave you to freeze out there.â
You nodded gratefully, taking a spoonful of the meal and delighting in the warmth of it. It was the first time you had decent comfort since you left France, and you didnât want to leave anytime soon.
âYou live here?â
âYes. There is a village not far from here, my son lives there. Heâs a sculptor, a great one.â
She had this grin on her face when she spoke of him, and you believed it to be the pride of a mother. But, you felt there was more to it than that. As if that grin was meant for you as well.
âA sculptor? Thatâs magnificent.â You glanced around the cave, taking note of the faces carved into the stone of the walls. It brought a smile to your face, now that you knew the source of the beautiful work. âHeâs very talented.â
âHe is.â She watched you carefully, following your gaze as you took in her sonâs work. âYou should go there. Kingsbridge. They are building a new cathedral there, thereâs work. Iâm sure they will take you.â
The first thing that arose in your kind was your fatherâs words, about princesses never needing to work besides providing heirs. You wondered what heâd think now. There was no doubt he had already sent party after party searching for you, but chances were high he had no idea you could make it so far from France. That made you feel safe.
âWork?âŚI wouldnât even know what I could do? I donât really possess any skills.â
You hoped that hadnât given anything away, because aside from needlework, and basic royal skills nothing of the common folk made sense to you.
Ellen just smiled, mending the fire as she spoke. âYou can learn.â
It made you smile, because she sounded just like Matilda. Always believing in you when you least expected it. You made to speak, moving the bowl to the side as you pulled the blanket over you tighter. But, as the words left you the sound of footsteps cut you off.
âIâm so sorry Iâm late, Mother. Philip was in a mood today.â
A young man with the brightest red hair you had ever seen entered the cave, a small bag of things over his shoulder as he removed the hood of his cloak and reached towards Ellen. He pulled her into a warm hug, kissing her cheek and smiling. You watched the entire exchange curiously, feeling very much out of place.
âMy boy, Jack.â She laughed joyously, cupping his cheeks and not wanting to let him go. But, for his sake she let him take a seat, before she moved to fetch another bowl for him.
This Jack didnât seem aware of you at first, his green eyes following his motherâs movement until she waved towards you.
âSay hello to my guest, Jack. Donât be shy.â
Jack looked towards the direction she pointed, his eyes widening when he set his gaze on you. It was the first time you ever saw a man flustered, and there was something endearing about it. Most men at court took it upon themselves to leer at you, or even touch what they believed to be theirs. But, this Jack fellow just blushed softly, averting his gaze several times before giving a smile.
âMorning.â
He simply spoke, looking back up at you with mild interest. You returned the gesture, holding your hand up in greeting.
âYouâre the sculptor. Itâs nice to meet you, Jack.â
***
A/N: I knowww, not much in the way of Jack this part, but I had to set the stage ;) Feedback highly welcomed!!! And appreciated. â¤ď¸
#pillars of the earth#jack jackson#jack jackson x reader#jack x reader#pote#eddie redmayne#rust to gold
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Shadowhunters (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Maryse Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood Characters: Alec Lightwood, Maryse Lightwood Additional Tags: Angst, Introspection, Good Parent Maryse Lightwood
Summary: Maryse and Alec both have their reasons for haunting the halls of the Institute late at night. Perhaps between the two of them, they can figure what to do next.
Notes: This fic doesn't really focus on Alec's pain over his separation from Magnus. While it's certainly there, he has more pressing issues to deal with first.
This work is unbetaed.
Nothing on the 3D display of Manhattan had changed in minutes, perhaps hours, and yet Alec stood hunched over it as though if he stared long enough, it would reveal to him the secrets of the universe. The Ops center was quiet--the patrols were either out looking for Valentine and his son, or they had reported in and retired for the night--and Maryse almost hated to disturb Alecâs concentration, except that his study of the display looked less like concentration and more like self-flagellation.
âCoffee?â she murmured, holding up the spare mug she carried. Alec startled, blinking rapidly.
âThanks.â He sounded like someone had scraped a rusty file along his vocal cords. He cleared his throat and accepted the mug, testing the temperature with a tentative sip as his eyes drifted back to the map. âYou checking on Max?â
Maryse shook her head, grimacing. âTaking a short break before returning to the infirmary. Iâm sure Iâll be treated to a tirade in the morning about how heâs too old to be fussed over, but I canât bring myself to leave for long.â
Alecâs head dropped, his chin nearly touching his chest as his shoulders rose and fell with a long, slow breath. âIt was a close call.â
âIt was.â Maryse blinked. Once. Twice. Three times, until the treacherous burning in her eyes dissipated. âThis family has had too many of those the past couple months.â
Alec said nothing, and that silence said everything. Most of the Lightwoodsâ recent near-misses, Maryse had learned about from afar, long past any opportunity to help. Alec had been in the thick of them.
To be honest, she wasnât sure which was worse.
âTake a short walk with me,â she invited, tipping her head in the direction of one of the corridors branching off the Ops center.
âI canât.â Alec swept his hand toward the projection display. âI need to--â
Yes, Maryse knew what he felt the need to do all too well. It was a tendency heâd learned while he was practically still at her breast.
âIt wonât tell you anything it hasnât been telling you for hours, Alec. Letâs get some air.â
He sighed and nodded, cradling his mug between his hands as they turned their backs on the Ops center. His shoulders remained hunched, bent under an old, invisible weight she only now realized heâd hadnât been carrying the last couple times sheâd seen him.
âWhen you were a toddler,â she remarked as he fell in beside her, his long strides considerately shortened. âNot long after the Circle fell, there were several months months where you were utterly inconsolable if I wasnât with you non-stop. You were probably picking up on all the tension and anxiety from me and your father. I was quite pregnant with Isabelle, and virtually under house arrest while the Clave decided what to do with those of us who had defected from the Circle, so it certainly was no hardship to spend every hour with you.â
A sideways glance caught the tiniest, feeblest curve of Alecâs lips, a far cry from the sweet, unguarded smile sheâd hoped to coax from him. âBut in that time, I had a chance to do a lot of thinking, about where everything went wrong, about what I could have done differently. I went over the same information in my head again, and again, and again, looking for signs I might have missed that we were doing the wrong thing, following the wrong path. How did I not see that the brave, heroic boy weâd admired and emulated since we were children had grown up to be a madman? Even if Iâd come up with any answers, it wouldnât have helped or changed anything. But that process of driving myself mad looking for them was my way of punishing myself for the choices I made.â
âYou think thatâs what Iâm doing tonight?â
âYou really think that map youâve been staring at for hours is going to tell you where Valentine and his son are?â Maryse stopped at the elevator and pushed the up button. Alec was silent as the doors slid open and then shut behind them once theyâd stepped inside. Maryse took them to the top floor, with its access to the roof.
Alec always went for high, open spaces when he needed solace.
After what happened at the party preceding Maxâs rune ceremony, that knowledge filled her with more than a little unease. But she took him to the roof anyway, because this, too, heâd picked up from her. Many of those months sheâd spent with his tiny arms around her neck, clinging to her like a limpet day in and day out, had been spent on the balcony of her rooms in their estate in Idris, and later here at the Institute.
Alec set his mug on the ledge of the parapet and braced his hands beside it, gripping the masonry in a white-knuckled grasp.
âIâve been in charge of this Institute for less than two weeks and I havenât done a single thing right in that entire time,â he said tonelessly.
âYouâve done more in two weeks than your father and I ever attempted in nearly twenty years.â That had been deliberate, of course. Any interference with the Downworld in those days would have looked as though they intended to continue Valentineâs work, and she and Robert hadnât wanted to risk that. But she remained silent on that point. The reasons didnât matter now.
âI let Valentine escape. I let thing he created waltz in and out of the Institute, treated him like a trusted advisor, put him in charge of security. I nearly got Max killedâŚâ
Maryse grabbed his arm, pulled her around to face him. âAlec, that isnât your fault. You couldnât possibly have known. He even fooled Aline Penhallow into believing he was her cousin.â
His eyes flashed in the omnipresent glow of the city lights, the muscle in his jaw flexing. âI promised the Downworld factions complete transparency, then reneged on that pledge the second it was more convenient to stay silent than tell the truth. If they break with the Clave, thatâs on me. I was the one who proved to them that they can never trust us.â
âThe Clave.â Maryse sneered, bitterly enough to wrench Alec out of his spiral of self-recrimination. âDo you want to know why I left Idris?â
He gave her a bemused frown. âI assumed it was because of Dad.â
Maryse shook her head. âNot in the way you probably assume. I left because my voice was being drowned out. I couldnât accomplish anything more there. Since the moment we realized the Soul Sword was missing, the Clave has been preparing for war with the Downworld. Theyâre convinced itâs inevitable.â She pressed her lips tightly together, then plunged ahead. âSome of them are even eager for it. There are too many who seem to have forgotten the horrors of the Circle uprising, or are too young to really remember. They would rather war with the Downworld than confront the evil being perpetrated by Valentine. Itâs easier to convince themselves the Downworld is at fault, that the Accords are untenable, and that Valentine was right all along.â
Alecâs mouth dropped open, his face growing paler in the dark. âAre you saying some of them might want to ally with Valentine?â
âI certainly hope not. Iâve heard mutterings from a few who were thinking along those lines, but I donât think the Clave has completely lost all reason yet. Still, if it comes down to a choice between a truce with Valentine and fighting a war on two fronts, especially against the Seelies? I really canât say which way the Clave would go.â
âOh, God.â Alec reached blindly for the parapet and knocked his mug off the ledge. It smashed against the ground four stories below with a muted crunch.
âThatâs why I was so in favor of your Downworld cabinet.â Maryse smiled softly in memory of the pride sheâd felt that night. âI had hoped if anyone could forestall the conflict, it would be you and Magnus.â
Alec frowned at her. âYou donât even like Magnus.â
âYouâre right. I never did.â Maryse straightened her shoulders, staring out over the city with her hands clasped tightly together before her. âWe clashed a number of times, and not just when your father and I were running the Institute.â
âWhen you were still in the Circle,â Alec said tonelessly.
âYes. Exactly. Iâm ashamed to admit that Magnus has been far more gracious to me than Iâve deserved, all things considered.â She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. âYou know, when I heard about Valentineâs attack on the Institute, I wasnât afraid at first. Somehow I just knew that you and Isabelle and Jace were all right. But then I learned what Valentine had done to all those Downworlders, and I was terrified. For Magnus Bane, of all people. Because I knew if you were fighting for your life, surely he wouldnât be far away. And I knew what it would do to you if he were killed.â
Alecâs breath hitched sharply, his face crumpling for a split second before he got it under control. He turned back to stare into the night again, giving her only his stony profile.
âSuddenly, I could see so clearly. All the reasons for my antagonism toward him stemmed from things that I really should have left behind me twenty years ago, when I turned my back on the Circle. My petty resentments had forced you to choose between your family and your heart, and I swore Iâd never do that to you again.â She swallowed against the lump in her throat. âWhatever you choose from here on out, Alec, I will stand behind you. I want you to know that.â
Alecâs head bobbed once, but he stood beside her in rigid silence for a long moment.
âIf it comes to war, I canât stand on the opposite side of the battlefield from him,â he said finally, the words so ragged it seemed they must be grating in his throat. âEven if it means dereliction of duty, going against the Clave. I wonât. I wonât be Aldertree, convincing myself years from now that it was always inevitable that Iâd have his blood on my hands. I wonât do it.â
âIâm sure Jace and Isabelle will support you in that, and Clary Fairchild as well. And me, of course.â Maryse drew her shoulders back and made her tone brisk. The commanderâs tone sheâd perfected over her decades running the Institute. âBut if youâre going to prevent things reaching that point, you probably only have a few more hours before the Downworld factions reach some sort of consensus. Figuring that out is certainly a better use of your time than staring at a map that isnât going to tell you anything. Isnât it?â
Galvanized, Alec shoved back from the parapet, a focused scowl already settling on his face. âRight. First thing we need to do is get patrols on the shores of Lake Lyn. Claryâs certain itâs the Mortal Mirror. We canât take the risk of Valentine figuring that out.â
âI wouldnât tell the Clave that, if I were you.â
Alec nodded grimly. âAgreed. There have been too many leaks already.â
âI believe Lucian ran with one of the feral werewolf packs in the Brocelind Forest for a short while, after he was turned. If anyone could get word through to their alphas, it would be him. Theyâd make excellent guards if someone could convince them itâs in their best interest.â
âRight.â Alecâs long strides carried him quickly toward the door, but he pivoted suddenly to brush a brusque kiss on her cheek. âThanks, Mom,â he murmured, then strode away.
BUY ME A CUP OF COFFEE!!
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