#and id actually LIKE to have my space deep cleaned but

[ofmdee]

💙👅

extra gif on twitter that was too big for tumblr: [x]

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s4 episode 6 thoughts

today's adventure with our favorite agents didn't really do a lot for me but. at least it wasn't super sad? so let's go? i guess?

liveblog begins NOW!

this episode sounds like it is gonna make me squeamish. extremely so. and also i just read the rest of the episode descriptions for the season and i’m sad so i really hope this is SOMEHOW a happy one. hey, listen, it’s possible!

author’s note: sometimes i hate being right. sometimes i hate thinking, boy, this sure looks like it’s gonna make me feel lightheaded, and it does.

oh, how i look forward to diving into the fluff fic recommendations from my last post…. <3 

but we must suffer through canon, no?

we open with someone about to undergo some liposuction, a thing i have never wanted to see. the patient is being wheeled in and the doctor is being informed of what kind of appointment he has next. the doctor is really really scrubbing his hands to the point i thought he was shaking and OH! his hands are very bloody. oh. i do not think that is clean. 

oh god i’m in for a rough ride this episode aren’t i, i realize as we see him bleed through his gloves and begin the surgery. OHHHHH an incision. I AM NOT LOOKING I AM NOT LOOKING. i am looking a little OUGH is THAT what this procedure looks like from the doctor’s end??? oh my gosh. oh man. the… sucking…

deep breathing.

the nurse goes to see a different patient and explains she doesn’t know where the doctor is. the doctor is… currently REALLY going ham on the sucking. WHAAAA we see the blood fill up the tube and oh man i’m not joking like straight up being so honest w you i can feel my body growing faint. i actually did not look at the screen until the intro because that was too close for me. and yes i understand he was….um. going TOO hard.

oh mein gott… the things i do for these two agents….

save me intro. save me pretty picture of scully. and that scene where they burst in with the guns and flashlights. save me.

okay. i’ve regained most of my feeling in my head. now the doctor is here, very sorrowfully explaining how he was watching himself do those things without having any control over it.

ah, he is speaking to mulder, who suggests that it may be spirit or demon possession. 

so mulder and scully are here talking to the doctor, but the lawyer says he did NOT want mulder talking to him lmaooo. 

scully asks what meds he’s taking and the lawyer again shuts them down. rude as hell. she wants to know about his sleeping pills. let her doctor as needed tf

oh…. scully going straight into a detailed explanation of how his medication worked <3 i just love her… this is why i suffer through the fat sucking (which has now occurred multiple times??)

why is mulder eyeing this nurse. don’t think i didn’t notice that…

this doctor was taking more than a sleeping pill a day, and she says it has controversial effects, so maybe that could make a guy do such a thing. it’s a good start to a theory.

she seems mad as hell that this space is being used for cosmetic surgery and not as a hospital and i love that she has some righteous rage going on there… let her save some damn lives!! 

“everyone’s doing it… or so i’ve heard” <- the thought of mulder getting plastic surgery is so silly… like is he not already the most gorgeous fellow alive

mulder’s on the floor looking at some weird marks and drawing a pentagram in the victim’s blood. average behavior for a guy like him. not convincing to scully, however.

scary facts with scully: deaths due to doctor's errors are upwards of 80,000 a year! that’s horrific and for my own sanity i’m not going to google how those stats have changed 

“i don’t think it’s a simple possession, scully, i think it’s sorcery or black magic or something like that” (said with his hands on his hips in the standard mulder pose) love him so bad…. please recite to me the different levels of magic in order of complexity

they run into the nurse who was on call at the time the sucking incident went down, and she is like idk how it could happen… but when mulder tells her the doctor is claiming he was possessed, she says “i guess it’s cheaper than malpractice insurance” LMAO i like her… don’t tell me she was the one doing the sorcery or something, let us have one nice side character who makes it out alive 

(author's note: ...)

then the agents try to talk to a doctor, but she says the patient can’t wait, which sparks more scully bitterness. mulder is watching the surgery stream. weird fellow

cutscene to a table with a conspicuous pentagram on it. someone is saying they need to keep calm. it seems they are the doctors at the facilities?

okay, so another procedure is going on. the patient says she’s getting a skin peel but the nurse is putting LEECHES ON HER?? man what the hell is going on here. and it’s the nice nurse who is doing it too 😭😭😭

mulder is making faces in the mirror now, seeming to mull the possibility of getting rhinoplasty over LMAOOO but scully knocks at his door… it’s video time!! woohoo, pop that bad boy in the VHS player!!

aww, it’s not a fun time video. it’s the video of the killing, and mulder claims to see a pentagram. scully is gagged that the doctor stabbed/sucked the dude to death, but i’m choosing to focus here on her beautiful freckles…..

he’s saying that a pentagram is for protection, so it wouldn’t even make sense, BUT “it does make sense that witchcraft or black magic would find a theater in a place like this, preying on the weak and vainglorious” <- woah... he's a philosopher

get yourself a man who can explain the positive connotations of pentagrams and other nerd stuff with 100% sincerity

oh my god, mulder is sitting on the bed and looking up at scully here, and i need it FRAMED. do you know the scene i’m talking about? i’d give you the time stamp if i had it. the way he’s looking at her…. oh my goodness... my heart. 

the stomach pills the doctor was taking had an ingredient used in hexing rituals. live scully response: “well, if it’s that simple, why don’t you put out an APB for someone riding a broom and wearing a tall black hat?” <- LMAOOOO get his ass

he scrunches up his nose at this comment and oh my gosh. oh… i want to hold this grown man.

BUT he is saying the ritual might not be over yet, while he stares up at her so adoringly, and man… i’m so sensitive 

okay back to the hospital, where this shady coalition of doctors seems to be debriefing. the nurse is there, who i am now suspicious of for engaging in leech-related activities. 

oh! one of the other doctors went into a patient’s room and started burning their face with a laser. luckily, this is visually unrealistic enough for me to not nearly faint this time.

so this doctor who did the face lasering- dr. ilaqua- is now being seen by scully. and he is on the same sleeping medication as the first guy!!!

back at a computer, mulder is looking at before and after rhinoplasty pictures. NO... i love his nose… he had BEST NOT DO A DAMN THING to it. and he’s holding a pencil up to test how straight his nose is and MY MAN. STOP. you are beautiful. who told you otherwise. i love his nose.........

oh! the leeches were used to make a pentagram on the victim’s body. this is not a good sign.

this creepy panel of doctors is meeting again when the agents arrive and do not give a fuck about their meeting. yes!! more agents walking into places without knocking!!! it is my favorite! it sustains me!

scully says she’s sorry to barge in but it’s a matter of urgency whilst not looking sorry in the slightest. which suits her!

and one of the doctors- dr. franklyn- is explaining that there were similar deaths 10 years ago… and they’re pinning the blame on the nurse!!! saying she was there 10 years ago and just transferred back in!!!

i do not believe it in the slightest that if she IS involved in this, she is doing it on her own. but the doctor says she left early. where to?

well, the camera takes us to go do some creepy chanting, of course! in a room filled with candles and statues and jewelry. and she’s naked i think too which is a risk around so many open flames. okay and now some hair is being cut. but it’s not the nurse who is doing the chanting nor the trimming. whoever it is seems to be falling asleep. 

the agents are here, and it is dark, and they are not messing around. they are going to this creepy house. with a cat meowing and a broom on the steps! i see what you did there.

mulder jokes that the broom gives them probable cause LMAO and then he starts to open the door as if it actually does… only to find a pentagram!!! dun dun DUUUUN!

it’s kicking the door down time, a good time in my opinion. where they hold the flashlight in one hand and the gun in the other… yeah. always a showy move. never gets old.

oh no!! scully finds the ritual space!! what could she have been doing in here?, she asks... girl i think you know damn well lmao

dr. franklyn from the council is coming home to his mansion… and his lights won’t turn on. that’s suspicious. that’s weird. 

it’s very very quiet as he goes into his bathroom… AND FINDS SOMETHING WRITTEN ON BLOOD IN THE WALL!!

it looks like latin which i sadly cannot read :(

well, it could be blood OR lipstick, all things considered

and the tub is flowing with blood which is not a welcome sight. as he stares at his reflection like narcissus, something LEAPS out and GETS HIM!! so now there is a very bloody person loose in his house!!

he goes to call 911 but gets put on hold… as this person is going to TOWN on him with a knife. 

the agents roll up and we see that it is the NURSE who is covered in the blood and just did the stabbing!!!! she says she needs to be let go, but i’m not gonna lie, i think that would be a very bad idea. mulder wants to chat. she’s saying she’s trying to stop “them”, but they’re too powerful… and then she… chokes up needles?? oh. and blood. 

scully says get her in surgery NOW and also i’m going with her to the ER. while mulder looks at all the pins on the ground from her insides and then PICKS ONE UP???? the germs…..

so dr. franklyn got away and is being stitched up by one of the other doctors. they are not seeming to be enjoying the witchcraft theory. mulder watches dr. franklyn lay down in his bed and then when he leaves he starts to levitate!!!! what!!! and he’s smiling while doing this!!!

who are these weirdos…

it’s 3:40 AM and mulder has his demon books out, but really he’s looking at himself again in the mirror. bro is insecure and it’s making me sad. 

a knock at the door. scully!! at nearly 4 am. “god, you look tired”, says mulder, in a way that expresses concern rather than being mean. and she actually doesn’t look tired at all because it’s TV, but i’ll suspend my disbelief again. 

anyway, the nurse died from throwing up hundreds of pins. but how did they get IN there…

it has to be allotriophagy, says mulder, consulting his witchcraft encyclopedia! when you’re possessed and cough up strange and horrible things! which i shall use as an excuse next time i need to call in sick to work.

he stole the book from the nurse’s house, and also a calendar, where he found april 30th starred. and he explains it is one of the “four greater witches’ Sabbaths”, a natural thing for an FBI agent to know! /s

oh get this… the high holy days correspond to the birthdays of the victims!!! so that would be a good way to predict who is next.. but mulder says the nurse was trying to protect them with the pentagram, and she must have known something about dr. franklyn!!

so the doctors are talking about having a good thing going and people trying to take it away… i guess they're all in on this?

dr. franklyn has another procedure coming up, but the other doctor is like no dude you look terrible and you can’t mess this up, we'll get shut down, i’m doing it 

and gasp!! there is a patient going in that was born on one of the holy days!!! and that patient is going into surgery right now!

OH MY GOSH HE BURNED HER FACE OFF. THERE IS NO FACE LEFT. WHAT. WHAT DID I JUST SEE. 

so now they’re talking to another doctor, dr. shannon. they’re talking about how they successfully covered up the death cases from 10 years ago because they have made a TON of money doing plastic surgery. she says 4 patients died and a doctor named dr. cox worked himself to death. hmm...

mulder says to run dr. cox's photo through a cosmetic program… and it makes dr. franklyn… woah… spoooooky……

now we hear some labored scraping as dr. franklyn is doing knife twisting. carving… something. very sweatily. gross.

mulder’s theory is that dr. cox killed those patients in order to become dr. franklyn through some blood sacrifice to make himself pretty. i mean... did it work? let’s discuss. he looks fine, but not "i killed four people to look this good" fine.

now he’s getting some more tools… and he’s hurting the other doctor, dr. shannon!! with his mind! he didn’t even touch her!

mulder is at dr. franklyn's house with scully and they have their guns. god they’re beautiful. and she’s standing on a pentagram!! that has been inverted!!! 

“they represent the goat of lust attacking heaven with its horns”, he says about the pentagram <- he’s SUCH a nerddddd omfggg

and he wrote in all the names of the patients he killed in his carving!! including dr. shannon!!! uh oh...

and they’re bringing dr. shannon in for surgery, saying she swallowed something.

dr. franklyn is…. cutting into his scalp. i am not looking so don’t worry. 

mulder says do not let them operate on dr. shannon!!!!

oh my goodness, franklyn is just. cutting into his face. and i’m not looking but i am HEARING. the noises that are being produced.

they’re cutting into shannon and bleh. blehhh.

scully bursts in and says stop the surgery NOW!! and they’re all, who tf are you, get out of here!!! but she says i am a DOCTOR you need to LISTEN TO ME!! i love when she does that!

mulder is on the prowl for dr. franklyn. and he sees that he made a pentagram in blood. OH MY GOD HE CUT HIS OWN FACE OFF?? and left it there like a snake shedding it’s skin 😭😭

they pulled a ton of surgical instruments out of dr. shannon… so mulder says franklyn must have failed to complete his ritual….

but he managed to kill some other person who was born on halloween…. okay, that wasn’t a happy ending….

OH! dr. franklyn has a NEW FACE and is now getting a job in LA!

so… he’s just gonna… keep doing successful surgeries for 10 years and then take a little break to go on a killing spree, get a new face, and dip?

well. at least he sticks to a schedule?

um. okay. so what am i thinking here….

well, i did nearly faint many times. i am not looking forward to editing my notes and reliving that. i do not think this is an episode i would give a rewatch based on how i reacted to it.

but, the last few episodes have been super dark, and this one somehow felt… lighter? despite everything. we got some jokes in there and some silly time. and even if it ended on a “oh no, he’s still out there!” reveal, it was somehow less emotionally draining than the last few. 

was it ridiculous? yes. but was it also kind of refreshing after the last two episodes? also yes! which i think is a testament to how dark things have been rather than the quality of this episode. 

it was fine. it didn’t really do a whole lot for me. i mean, interesting to think of plastic surgery as devil worship, i guess, but potentially a reductive take. idk. i guess i don’t really spend a lot of time thinking about these things. 

things i DID like in this episode: that conversation mulder had with scully, where he was sitting on the bed looking up at her like he was going to ask for her hand in marriage or to be best friends forever and ever or talk about the meaning of being alive or some similar topic. it was so terribly tender. also, facts with scully! tell me about controversial drugs!! and mulder, tell me about the symbolism of a pentagram! i love these nerds! that was kind of it, though.

it was an episode. an episode with some good things and some meh things. that’s sort of par for the course. just… next time, less surgery. please. for me?

[his-tamine]

life update :3 (a little vent-y)

sooo, been over 200 days since the house caught fire and we had to move. obviously, a lot of stuff's been happening. can't go into deep details for fear of someone I don't want to find this, finding this, but I'll say this much: FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I've very rarely mentioned family on here (for obvious reasons - this account is NOT made for that lol) but here goes. tw for pretty heavy topics: mentions of abuse, father issues, health issues, transphobia & financial issues. I turned 18 Feb 21st, literally just almost 2 months before the damn house caught fire. Meanwhile, my brother's still a minor. MEANING, I narrowly escaped the custody battle my mom & dad are in. But unfortunately, he's still stuck in the middle of it. :( My pops was not really the nicest person to me when I was a kid -

whooping my ass whenever I did anything wrong, no matter how minor the offense was.

Telling me that he loved God more than he loved me, because "You're God's gift to me. God is the one who gave you to me in the first place," when I was four.

Telling me that if I didn't start being ok with receiving physical affection from family - which he knew made me uncomfortable - I was "going to grow up to be a S3R1AL K1LL3R" (yes he said that.)

Telling me that "God doesn't make mistakes," and that he "made me into a beautiful young woman for a reason" after I came out to him personally at 14 - big mistake 0/10 stars, would never do again. You get the idea. And those are the tame examples I could think of. So, I finally cut him off. As soon as my mom, brother, & I were in our new place, I blocked his number and haven't talked to him since. I was sick of him not respecting my boundaries, and repeatedly demonstrating that he thought of me as nothing more than a possession. Tired of him making me feel crazy all the time too. But now he's fucking with my mom & brother. Intentionally not paying child support till the last minute possible - & then making it in as small of payments at a time as he possibly can (yes he can afford it btw.) Trying to force my brother to go over to his place, even when my brother does NOT want to - which has begun giving my brother psychological issues & issues with school, mirroring the ones I used to struggle with bc of that bastard. My mom is juggling all sorts of things, & I really at least wanna try to help financially by getting a job, but I can't yet because: she says that I'm only 18, & shouldn't have to get a job to help out (I disagree.) I don't have an ID bc she wants me to wait on my legal name change - which costs a pretty decent chunk of change - reason is bc she "wants me to have as easy an early adulthood life as possible" (love her.) AND, I haven't actually graduated - No, I dipped in 11th bc school was hell (not exaggerating,) & instead just decided to pursue a GED, that I haven't been able to work towards bc of the shit show that is life in midwestern america. So I've been very depressed, exhausted, & hopeless. The least I can do is clean up our house while she's at work, & get this - some days I don't even have the physical energy to do THAT! I do not know what the hell is wrong with my body currently, but it absolutely sucks. & I'm really tired of just taking up space all the time. She's dealing with health issues too, & I'm always worried ab her. Idk what the hell to do, but something's gotta give. Everybody needs a fucking break. I keep trying to shoo away all the dark thoughts, push myself as often as possible, & keep my fingers crossed, but jfc... Sorry just needed to yell into the void for a sec. I'll live, I'm sure - I've survived worse. Sometimes things just suck. But I like to think that someday they won't. :,)

[godlovesmemore]

a d d e r a l l & I got high driving again.

did not get pulled over by police. took more then last time but was more careful/safe — besides popping them while driving. was it cool? no but theres the rush when it feels illegal. i spaced them all out and thought about each one. the first one was genuinely because i was due for one and i forgot to take it before i started driving. that one was legal.

on the second one i knew it was more than necessary. i questioned my motives — is this my addiction talking ? its me and yes both are true. i also felt in my heart god said its ok to go ahead so i didn’t question the gut instinct. by this I mean it was a calling to do it and not a want of my own, my want comes after from curiosity, the pull where will this pill (direction) lead this time, good or bad? if i know its gods call i should take it, trust, break the law. if you’re not sure ask permission. be sure god says its ok, not yourself. then it’ll work out

By the time i took the 3x i was lost at some deadend — and thought wouldn’t this be a perfect place to pop a final one — my gut reaction (addiction) says take another — I wonder is it ok god? whatever the fuck you wanna do; god says — he’ll get high too. Update hours later. its 10pm and i just took another even though god said no. free will? actually it’s the opposite = addiction

edit

i just got home from seeing family, took a 2 hour long car ride in the country. trying to find god, reasons to live. reconnect by drowning out my feelings with bass music. i needed to decompress, so did some recreational drugs, slightly testing to see the effects going over the prescribed dose. its difficult to tell how it affects you unless your actually doing something (driving) so 3x in one hour and id say im feeling like i took a small dose of xanax — adhd meds really do calm me but its the mania = my addiction. if you’ve never done manic before you’ll just never know the high. i couldn’t sleep the past 2 days now and i haven’t eaten but i hope i can get real sleep tonight. new rule never exceed 6 pills in a day and try to stay below 4 — im only ordered 2x a day

5x today total i need to order more pills tomorrow

—feeling a come down from the last tab at 10 pm. this mania is truly tired out i hope she’ll still be with me tomorrow. mania must have just started today, honestly right when driving home. i guess something about leaving my familys house triggered it. id been feeling mad depressed lately. last night i felt so worthless deep down in my core. it was right there like i could hold onto it. yet ive managed to have my pills under control pretty much since being pulled over. yea nobody wants me manic—but its the only time i ever want to be alive. if you cant love me manic you dont get to know about my medication usage either. remember next time always hide mania from everybody — never trust anyone close to you but god

Im in bed right now, almost 1 a m — with bipolar i fear feeling better (moments like these) ill fear this moment because feeling better is probably gone tomorrow. so we stay awake, dont eat or sleep because maybe ill get another day with myself — the best part of me — a lovable me. i will remain sober from drugs. jesus help me i cannot go on with this life soberminded.

medicine is safe — its clean, im prescribed it. so what if i found the magic pill to become manic when it suits me: life fucking hacked.

[khaleesiofalicante]

I found this on my laptop?

Magnus frowned at Maia but she didn’t bat an eye. Alright, he thought, it was time to bring out the big guns.

He pouted at her.

“So, I can’t give free drinks to any cute people?” he asked, leaning against the wooden counter.

“Nope,” Maia replied shortly.

Huh. Maybe the pout needed more voltage.

“But what if they are super cute?” Magnus asked, pouting even further. “Like Chris Pine cute?”

“Still nope,” Maia shook her head.

“Are you telling me that if Chris Pine walks in here tonight, I can’t offer him a free drink?” Magnus asked incredulously.

Maia sighed, half tired and half exasperated. “I can assure you that Chris Pine is not going to walk into this bar on a Sunday night.”

She paused and looked at Magnus seriously.

“He better not walk into this bar when I am not bartending,” Maia said. “I will be so fucking pissed if that ever happens.”

Magnus wondered how much it would cost him to hire Chris Pine to visit the bar on Maia’s birthday.

“What’s the point of running a bar if you don’t get to give free drinks to cute people?” Magnus gestured at the patrons.

It was Sunday night and Hunters Moon was buzzing with anyone who hated Mondays – which was pretty much everyone.

“The point is to make profit so I can pay off my student loans,” Maia answered and slammed the cash register with a loud thud – she could be a little extra sometimes.

“You had to guilt me with the student loans, didn’t you?” Magnus pouted, for real this time. “Capitalism is a bitch.”

“Magnus, you don’t have to-”

He jumped over the counter in one smooth motion and put a finger on her lips. Cute people come and go – but friends are forever.

“I promised I will take over for you tonight,” Magnus smiled. “I won’t give anyone free drinks – even if they are Chris Pine cute. I promise.”

“Just for a couple of hours okay?” Maia said, as she picked up a napkin from the cupboard, probably hoping to clean the counter for the hundredth time. “It’s mostly just kids from the nearby campus. You can close up by 11.”

He smiled at her and took the napkin from her hands and put it over his shoulder. “Maia, I’ve got this. I just need to look pretty and serve alcohol. I’ve been doing that might my whole life. Just ask my dad.”

“Magnus, your jokes are more depressing than they are funny,” Maia pointed out, looking rather concerned.

“Hush, you!” Magnus shushed her. “Now why don’t you go back to the apartment and prep for the interview with the bank tomorrow?”

Maia was applying for a loan so she can renovate Hunters Moon to make it bigger and better. He wished he had the money to make her dream come true – but he didn’t. So he had decided to help her in whatever way he could. If that meant serving alcohol to redheads and Star Wars nerds with what were clearly fake IDs, Magnus didn’t mind one bit.

“You are the best-est,” Maia smiled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “You are sure you can handle it, right?”

“Maia, I know my way around alcohol,” Magnus reminder her again. “I once drank so much gin that I almost got married to a plate in Poland. Or was it in Philippines? It was a country starting with P. I remember that much.”

“If that anecdote was supposed to make me feel better, it failed miserably,” Maia groaned, shaking her head.

“The only thing that can make you feel better is some hardcore prepping for your interview tomorrow,” Magnus informed her. “Now off you go. I’ve got this.”

He turned around, already taking orders from a blonde girl in a leather jacket. He saw Maia exiting the counter and picking up her backpack. She turned around and gave him a fond smile.

“One drink,” she said. “You can give one free drink.”

“One?” Magnus said in disbelief. “But there are so many cute people here!”

Maia put her backpack over her shoulder and winked at him. “Then you better find the cutest of them all – and it better not be Chris Pine!”

Magnus pouted at the door, which closed after her. He looked around the bar once more - the small cozy space which will hopefully be a big cozy space in the future. It was full of cute people alright. But how could he just choose one of them? It seemed like an impossible mission.

“Alright cutest of them all, show yourself!” Magnus announced dramatically, half joking and half wishing.

Right on cue, the front door bell jingled and two ridiculously good looking people walked in. They looked like students – but Magnus did not make that assumption based on the usual signs like the dark circles under their eyes or the ramen stains on their t-shirts.

These two were actually carrying a pile of giant text books as they found a corner booth and settled down. Magnus was trying to figure out which one of them was cuter when the door opened more and his quest to find the cutest of was settled – probably forever.

The man wore a simple gray sweater and had dark floppy hair that fell just above his eyes. Magnus wanted to know whether he didn’t comb his hair or didn’t know how to.

And his face. Oh my god, his face. 

It was cute. Probably the cutest thing Magnus had ever seen – which is really saying something because Magnus had once attended a cat fashion show a couple of years ago.

The cute, no – cutest – guy’s face scanned the space, searching for someone – probably his girlfriend, if Magnus’ past luck was anything to go by. Even if this cute stranger turned out to be miraculously and conveniently gay, he was probably still here to meet up his boyfriend.

Magnus was used to his shitty luck.

The man’s eyes stopped on him and his mouth parted open, forming a slight O. He shook his head, his ridiculously cute hair flopping around making him look even cuter. The man started looking around again, this time more urgently.

“Face!” he yelled at someone. Or may it was Trace. Magnus couldn’t hear him over the patrons.

Mr. Cutest of Them All walked towards the two ridiculously good-looking students and immediately started gesturing aggressively at the counter. The two students peered over at the counter – at him? – and pointed at their books.

The man sighed and put his face in his hands. Clearly the three of them were dealing with some sort of personal drama. Magnus, despite wanting nothing but to talk to the cute guy, decided to give them space.

For now, he decided to do his job as promised and started taking and making more orders. One hour down, Magnus had successfully poured drinks, breaking zero glasses – although he did break a couple of hearts when he refused to give them his number.

They should really blame the stupid cute guy who was now brooding in the corner booth. The two mysteriously good-looking friends – friends? – seemed to be reading (studying? In a bar?) their giant textbooks in silence.

The blonde one did come over to get a couple of beers but didn’t say much. Magnus wondered if it would be a good idea to send over a drink to their table. Maia did say he could give one free drink after all and he didn’t think no one cuter could walk into that bar tonight – or any other night for that matter.

The bar was starting to empty out slowly as Maia had promised although the corner booth remained the same. Magnus shrugged and decided to clean up the counter since he had to close up in half hour. He was looking for Maia’s cleaning cloth – which she probably should wash more often – when someone loudly and awkwardly cleared their throat.

Magnus turned around to find the cute guy sitting on one of the bar stools, his fingers clasped neatly on the counter before him.

If he had thought the other man was good looking before, he didn’t have words for what he was feeling right now. Magnus could actually see his clearly now. His face, pale but beautiful – like porcelain that you want to caress at first sight. His blue eyes were so deep and enchanting and would definitely give Chris Pine run for his money.

The counter was empty, and so was the bar mostly, but one customer was still a customer. So Magnus decided to stop thirsting and starting pouring – alcohol, just to be clear.

“What can I get you?” Magnus asked, putting on his best smile.

No harm in smiling, right? It was just good customer service.

Okay he might have also unbuttoned one (or two) or his buttons while he pretended to look for something but that’s mostly because New York can be ridiculously warm in…January.

Whatever.

“Can I get a Cake by the Ocean, please?” the man asked.

“A what?” Magnus blinked.

“A Cake by the Ocean?”

“Uh, I don’t know how to make one of those,” Magnus replied helplessly.

Great his first impression on his cute stranger was that he was a loser who didn’t know fancy alcoholic beverages.

“I am sorry,” Magnus said quickly. “I am not a professional bartender. I am just covering for a friend. But I can look it up on the internet and see if I can make it for you.”

“No worries,” the man smiled, and Magnus wanted to kiss him. “It smells like orange juice and vodka. But also tastes like cranberries, I think? Oh – and peach schnapps!!”

“Hold on,” Magnus said slowly. “Are you talking about a Sex on the Beach?”

The man blinked at him once and then twice. His eyes widened in realization and he face palmed and groaned so hard that his friends looked over at the counter in concern.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” the man said, his voice muffled by his hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

“It’s really not,” Magnus smiled. Can this guy get any cuter?

“Why would anyone even call a cocktail that?” the man complained. “It’s a terrible name.”

“It was actually coined by this guy from Florida. He was asked by a peach schnapps company to create a cocktail featuring their product. So he made this,” Magnus gestured at the cocktail he was currently making, “He named it Sex on the Beach because most of the spring breakers who visited Florida at the time were looking for sex or the beach. It was really good marketing strategy to be honest.”

Cute guy looked both impressed and surprised at the same time. Cute guy looked cuter.

“I didn’t expect you to offer me an explanation and definitely not a comprehensive one at that,” the man said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Magnus winked – because of customer service.

“You said you are covering for a friend,” the man after a minute of silence. “So how do you know about the sex on the beach thing? Do you happen to know random details about random alcoholic beverages?”

“While that would certainly look excellent on my resume, unfortunately no. My knowledge of alcohol is limited to mixing cocktails and making hangover cures. But I was a linguistics major at Columbia. I spent an entire semester on etymology. I may have a little obsession about discovering the meaning of things. So I happen to know random shit like this.”

“That’s actually pretty cool,” the man smiled again.

“I am glad you think so,” Magnus said genuinely. “My dad doesn’t see the point of pursing linguistics.”

“Most parents don’t understand the purpose of learning for passion,” the man pointed out. “They think we need to get a degree so we can get a job. They don’t really care if we like what we to learn or enjoy what we do.”

Magnus blinked.

The man was not only breathtakingly beautiful but also eloquent and deep.

“I agree,” Magnus replied. “But if we are going to talk about our parents, we need something stronger than a cocktail with orange juice.”

The man chuckled.

Magnus used to think that the most beautiful sound in the world was the sound a cocktail mixer makes when you are getting yourself booze after a long day at work – or short day at home.

But now he wasn’t so sure.

Maia can think whatever she wants – but if his depressing jokes can get another laughter out of the mystery man it would be worth it.

“Alec,” the man said, now smiling.

“Short for Alexander?” Magnus smiled back.

“Yep,” Alec nodded.

“Do you know the etymology of your name?” Magnus asked, as he waved at the last patrons – other than Alec’s friends – who were leaving the bar.

“It means protector, right?” the man guessed. “For Alexander the Great or something.”

“Actually it goes further back,” Magnus corrected, glad they were talking about etymology and not something like…baseball. “It was actually an epithet given to the Greek goddess Hera. She was a total badass. You should be flattered.”

“Well then, consider me flattered,” Alec grinned.

[peanutpinet]

Lucas (mafia leader) x Reader (female)

A/N: I had this thought for days now and was like, ya know, just let it out. This is my first NCT (?) WayV (?) fanfic? Scenario? Yea XD For those who have read my past fanfics/scenarios, you know how horrible I am in explaining XD but yea, essentially I just imagine that you, the reader are a uni student whilst Lucas is part of the NCT mafia, "leader" of the WayV unit (I know Kun is technically the leader, but just for the sake of the story), okie, leggo

Sighing in defeat, you gathered all your books, stationery and some clothing before sneakily going out of your dorm and to your boyfriend's apartment since he gave you the spare key, saying that it was for emergencies or whenever you wanted to come over.

After texting Lucas that you were heading to his apartment, you went to grab a cab and head there. Truth be told, you never really went there and only got the address from Lucas. Which is why upon arriving, your jaw nearly dropped when you saw his apartment; even making sure whether the address Lucas gave last time was the exact one and making a mental note to yourself to look up things beforehand.

Upon arriving, you felt like you just came from the countryside to the big city. You went to the front desk and inform them who were you looking for, handing in your ID card and was immediately directed to the elevator, one of the securities pressing the highest floor of the elevator and left you in the elevator on your own.

Just when you thought that it couldn't get any fancier, the minute you stepped out of the elevator, you were amazed at the decor and the fact that there was only one door made it even grander. Taking out the key Lucas gave you, you were actually hoping that it wasn't the correct one and Lucas just sent you the wrong address but as it turns out, the key fits and you took a deep breath, walking into the room.

But on Lucas' side, he actually didn't receive your text message. So, the second he heard someone coming into his suite, he was already reaching for his gun because he wasn't really expecting anyone to come. But as soon as he heard your signature nervous voice, he felt relieved but worried at the same time. Did something happen to you?

"Lucas? Ar-are you in here? The people at the front desk just directed me here. I uh sent you a text" you called out

"I'm here sweetheart. Now, what brings you here at this late hour? Is there anyone I should be concern with?" Lucas stated, coming out of his bedroom

"Huh? Wow. I mean, no. Sorry, it's my first time here. I uh, I was just wondering if I could stay for the night. The dorm was so loud that I couldn't study nor sleep" you admitted, trying to avoid eye contact with Lucas, thinking that it was a lame excuse to come over

"Of course you can. I gave you the spare key for a reason, didn't I? Uh, sorry about the mess and all. I didn't expect you to come. I didn't receive any messages. C'mere sweetheart" Lucas mentioned, giving a hand motion for you to go to him

"Really?! I could've sworn I...(looks at your phone) I forgot to click the send button" you sighed, hitting your head as you went over to Lucas

"Hey, hey. Don't do that. You'll hurt your brain even more. No harm sweetheart. My place is yours. Come. I'll order some McDonalds as well if you'd like" Lucas cooed, bringing you into his office

"Damn. Two desktops?! Bro and this processor is the latest one?!" you commented, placing your bag down and immediately inspecting his desk

"Sometimes I play some games with the guys. Feel free to use it if you'd like. Lemon tea or coke?" Lucas asked, scrolling through his phone

"Lemon tea, no ice. It's worth the money better. Are you sure I can study here? Am I not disturbing you?" you questioned, sitting on the chair

"Not at all, sweetheart. It's almost 10pm. I'm done with work. You're free to use my computer. I've ordered your favourites already. I'm going to go for a shower for a bit. Feel free to turn on some music as well, alright? And please don't study for too long. I worry you'll hurt that gorgeous head of yours" Lucas chuckled, kissing your forehead before leaving you in his study room

After settling, putting on some music with your account (which was already in Lucas' Spotify), you grabbed your books and stationery then started to study for your finals. In the midst of it, you heard Lucas coming in with McDonalds; wearing a plain T-shirt and sweats.

Because there was only one chair in his office, with your consent, Lucas placed you on his lap as he was feeding you McDonalds whilst scrolling through his phone, occasionally leaning his head on your back as he does so.

After finishing the food, Lucas was about to get up and cleaned up so you could study a bit better since he knew you didn't like a messy space but when he felt your head slightly leaning backwards, he questioned whether you were already sleepy or not.

"What's wrong love? Tired?" Lucas murmured as he placed his chin on your neck, wrapping his long arms around your waist

"Huh? Oh? Sorry. I didn't realise I was leaning back" you yawned, scrubbing your eyes but Lucas stopped the motion

"Don't. Your eyes will get irritated. I think it's about time you sleep, hmm?" Lucas commented, tucking a hair behind your ear as he kissed the side of your cheek

"Hmm. I guess so" you sighed, leaning onto Lucas's chest

"Alright princess, let me just shut everything off. Kay, let's go to bed" Lucas chuckled, carrying your small figure in his arms and tucking you into his bed before going to the other side of the bed

The next morning, you were woken up by the sound of your phone's alarm but just stayed in bed whilst scrolling through your phone until you realised that you had exams that starts in 45 minutes. Immediately, you got up and went back to the study room to grab your clothes, without even calling out to Lucas and head to the bathroom to get ready.

After getting ready, you were so ready to rush out the door and call a cab until Lucas finally called out to you. Once you told him that your exam was starting in literally 15 minutes, he just chuckled and told you that he'll drive you there; which was a first since all this time, you guys just have dates near your campus since your dorm had strict rules and Lucas would just walk you there (A/N: how you guys met is a story for next time, lol).

After packing some food for you, Lucas grabbed his car keys in one hand and your hand in the other, making your way down to the parking lot where your jaw also almost dropped again since the car Lucas owned is probably enough to pay your whole entire undergraduate life.

Whilst in the car, Lucas told you to eat so you wouldn't be hungry during the exam. He also mentioned that he'll come to pick you up to celebrate finishing your finals since he knew that you've been stressing over this last final for weeks; saying that he'll treat you out.

Once you've arrived, Lucas pulled you to give a slight peck on your forehead, encouraging you to do well in your finals and that he'll see you right after you're done. You smiled and thank him. Getting out of the car, you saw nearly the whole campus that was by the front gate staring at you; even your friends were stunned before rushing to you, managing to get a glimpse at Lucas who just smiled before leaving.

"Gurl!! I knew your boyfriend was hot, but well off? You definitely hit the jackpot!!" one of your friends blurted

"Sis!! Can we save the conversation for later? I need to get this exam over with first" you bargained

"Okay, okay, good luck with your exams!! I'll see you later!!" your friend exclaimed as you went to your exam hall

Thankfully, the exam wasn't as hard as you'd thought. You didn't know if it's because Lucas actually helped you study since he actually knew the subject or something else but you were glad to finally be done with it. After the exam, you got a text from Lucas, saying that he'll be running a bit late which you didn't mind. Your friend, who was also done with her exam, came to your exam hall and didn't spare a second before plastering with all sorts of questions.

Asking you where you've been the night before since you weren't at your dorm; and when you told her you were at Lucas' place, she squealed, asking if you guys did anything spicy which you immediately cut her off, saying that you just went there to study because the rooms near yours were getting too loud and rowdy.

You also explained how kind and caring Lucas was; despite the amount of work he had to deal with, he was still soft when it came to you. Ordering your favourites from McDonalds, letting you just barged into his apartment whenever and even using whatever he had; hearing this, all your friend can do was just squeal, saying that Lucas was the perfect boyfriend.

And right on cue, Lucas texted you saying that he's almost at the front gate. Your friend saw your smile and teased the heck out of you before letting you off just because she supported your relationship; knowing that you had a rough past and it was nice to finally see you happy with someone; someone that genuinely cares about you.

But of course, life ain't that easy. Because just as you were skidding along the halls to the front gate, you accidentally bumped into someone and dropped your phone. You immediately apologised about to get your phone when the person you bumped into stepped on your phone. Looking up, you met with the campus' miss popular with her boyfriend.

"Can you please let go. I really have to go now" you sighed, looking up

"Can't your boyfriend get you another one? Oh wait, is he the one that you're meeting? Honestly, I dunno what he sees in you. Oh wait, I think I do. He's probably just in it to play around or probably did it because of a bet" the girl scoffed but you were just not having it and shoved her feet off, nearly falling if it weren't for her boyfriend being there

After getting your phone, you were about to make a run for it before she grabbed your hair, pulling you back and making you fall; calling you names and all. When you got back to your feet again, she nearly slapped you when you got ahold of her hand about to push her back when her boyfriend came and took your hand, twisting it behind your back, allowing an opening for her to get a good punch out of you.

It felt like forever since you were trapped between the two "bullies" of your campus and for Lucas, it meant something was wrong. It's been almost 30 minutes since he arrived and called you but there was no answer at all. Frustrated, he called Winwin to track your phone as he went in to find you; thinking that you were held captive by one of NCT's enemy.

When he did see you, he felt a slight relief that it wasn't one of NCT's enemy but he was still very much pissed at the sight. When the girl was about to hit you for like the 15th time, Lucas grabbed ahold of her arm, throwing her to the floor before looking at her boyfriend who turns out to be one of the bartenders in one of NCT's bars.

"B-boss..." the man stammered, letting go of your hand as you almost dropped if it weren't for Lucas catching you

"You better come to work tonight. We'll have a lil discussion about respect? Hmm? Make sure everyone comes. Or I'll just have to report Taeyong about this" Lucas growled, making the man cowered in fear

"N-no sir. Everyone will come tonight" the man stuttered as Lucas stood up, holding your figure firmly in his arms

"Good. Wouldn't want to make a big deal out of this hmm? Oh, and do bring your girlfriend while I take mine to treat the wounds you both caused" Lucas scoffed, bringing you out of the campus

Once you've reached his car, he gently placed you and put your seatbelt on before going to the driver's seat. Once he was in, he called Kun, telling him what happened and that he's planning to have a meeting later tonight in the bar. After the call, Lucas took your hand in his, stroking your knuckles as he drove back to his apartment.

Upon arriving, he helped you get out of the car and into his apartment. Inside, he brought you to his room before going to the bathroom and grabbing some medicine for your bruised face and cut on the lips. Lucas treated all your wounds as gently as possible, worrying that he might accidentally hurt you, treating you as if you're as fragile as an egg.

After he was done, he threw all the cotton buds and ordered some food for the both of you; knowing that you will tell him whenever you're ready. He put his hoodie onto you before bringing you to the living room to cuddle and just watch the whole day. Occasionally, food will come and it was all from your favourite restaurants.

After the next 5th Disney movie ended, you told Lucas that you wanted to take a shower and he told you that you can borrow any of his clothes. He even said that he'll run you a bath but you told him that you were just going to take a light shower which Lucas didn't mind. Whilst you were showering, Lucas prepared a T-shirt and shorts along with the hoodie you were just wearing.

After your shower and putting on the clothes Lucas prepared, Lucas came and redid the medicine on your wounds before going back to watching some heart-warming movies on the bed. Feeling better, you decided to tell Lucas what happened and whilst it seemed that he was calm, his mind was off wondering the endless possibilities of teaching the two that harm you; whether it'd be physically or mentally.

Either way, Lucas listened to all your rambles, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, leaning you onto his chest, giving kisses on your forehead, cheeks and occasionally your neck, chuckling when he saw you flustered; basically making you 10x better, treating you like a queen up until you fell asleep.

When you did fall asleep, he gently tucked you into bed, kissing your forehead, smiling at your sleeping figure before leaving the room to the bar where he was more than ready to make the two-person harmed you suffer; not forgetting to ask Hendery and Yangyang to come over to watch over you.

"Sleep tight sweetheart. I'll be back before you know it, alright? No one treats my queen like trash and gets away with it" Lucas mumbled, kissing your forehead as he left as quietly as possible

and let's just say that everyone in the bar that night experienced a side of Lucas that no one would like to see or hear ever again.

"Try and lay a finger on her again, I won't be so nice next time" Lucas scoffed, seeing all the staff looked down, especially the two-person who hurt you

A/N: I hope that this was alright but yea, this fanfic has been stuck in my head for days

[death---dealer]

Checkered Boards. [ Benny Watts Oneshot.]

I GOTTA DO EVERYTHING MYSELF AND THAT INCLUDES WRITING FICS FOR MYSELF. If you haven’t seen the Queen’s Gambit on Netflix, I totally suggest. Likes and reblogs are totally appreciated. thanks guys! - Miss Em. 

Title: Checkered Board. Pairing: Implied! Benny Watts x Reader. Words: 1, 149.  Rating: K. just some flirty happenings.

-=-

Your eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as a beam of sunlight came in through the high windows of the hotel lobby. Despite it being sunny it was rather frigid and your blush-striked cheeks surely told of this as you had only stepped inside a few moments ago. Drawing a deep breath in, you felt strangely at home despite being hundreds of miles from it. There was nothing like the smell of a hotel; clean, perhaps too clean but that was never a bad thing, friendly as the faces that you passed on the way to the front desk were smiling with their mouths or with their eyes as an actual smile seemed too friendly to some. Checkered patterns caught your eye to the right. Someone had placed their packed up Chess set on the front desk as they were asked to confirm their identity to get their room. Once you saw that all too familiar pattern, it was spotting up everywhere. There were a few men to the left at a small table, one smoking while the other’s gaze was completely fixated by the board in front of them, deducing, crunching moves within their head before their fingers grasped a pawn and moved. You seemed mesmerized by the board, by the off white and black color of the squares before a voice behind you caught your attention.

“You gonna check in or are ya waiting for---” That voice. That slight Eastern accent that at times seemed a little too good to be true while at other times seemed to fade into oblivion. “(Name).” 

The tone fell slightly flat as he came to a realization. You had only turned your head ever so slightly, not figuring that this person was going to be able to identify you from merely your profile. But, you should have known better. A person who stares at a Chess board all day and loves it no doubt would be able to pick out such details about someone else's face, especially if this someone else had been face to face with him previously. Multiple times. Professionally and to your displeasure as of six months ago, personally.

How foolish, the dirty blond thought to himself, that he didn't recognize you from behind. You did hold yourself in a certain way that was like gravity at times that left him shaking mentally when your fingers would brush against one of his Chess pieces during a game. He shut his eyes and shook his head, repeating once again, “(Name).”

Sighing, you turned towards him completely, plastering a faux smile that he read right through, giving off a shit-eating grin in return. “Didn't expect to see you here---”

“It’s the US Open, Benny.” You murmured, suppressing the need to roll your eyes. His eyebrows rose almost comically at your blunt and straightforward statement.

 Of course it was the US Open. “Just didn't expect to see you, is all. After our last encounter, I was pretty sure you’d fallen off the face of the Earth.” Tilting your lips into an actual smile this time, you clutched your leather suitcase a bit tighter and snipped at him, “When I threatened to shove every pawn of yours up your---” “That’s the time.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Benny boy. I won’t quit Chess until your face is under my foot in defeat.”

“You should know better,” The tall, lanky man swiveled around and stood between you and the front desk, now altering your only out from the conversation. Groaning internally, you looked up at him, his dark eyes staring right back through a wash of eyelashes. “Going into games angry ain’t gonna get you anywhere.”

“Going into games as a flirt...” You retorted and shoved him aside. Fingertips brushed against the silver necklaces around his neck and it took all your willpower not to react to how it felt. Cold… Smooth... “also won’t get you anywhere.”

He held up his finger, “That was only with you and we weren’t even playing.”

Your face fell, mouth opening almost out of offense. 

“You know what I mean. We… weren’t playing in a tournament.” Scoffing, Benny watched intently as you began checking in, handing the front desk attendant your ID for verification. She smiled at you, checked the records before resting your room key on the desk. Grinning, you turned towards Benny.

“We were playing for something a little more intimate, don’t you think?” “Depends what you think is intimate,” Benny said softly, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans. You glanced down for a second and rolled your eyes again. He wasn’t gaudy. Well, maybe a little bit. Gaudy or confident, but those two things liked to go hand in hand sometimes. “A kiss… is well…”

“Depends,” You repeated his own phrase, picking up your key and scooting away from the desk at a slow pace. How you managed to walk, how your feet picked themselves up was miraculous especially when he followed you. “A kiss can be just a kiss unless there’s more behind it.”

His lips parted as you began trailing up the stairs, getting three steps in as he stayed on the ground level. It seemed like a romantic pose and the question that Benny inquired was uncharacteristic for his cocky attitude. He knew everything, his moves seemed calculated so why did he ask you… “Was there more from me or more from you?”

Tilting your head to the side, you smiled more or less to yourself before turning towards him and dropping down one step so you were nearly face to face. “Take a deep breath.” You whispered to him, “And ask yourself that again. Pretty sure you’ll answer for yourself.”

“There was more from you.”

Even though there was space between the two of you, you could feel your breath hitch in your throat, the mere audacity of that statement leaving you breathless and slightly choked. He was wrong. Benny was rarely so but you knew this confidently. The way that his hands held onto your face, the way that he leaned inwards, the way that his lips formed one sentence. Take a deep breath.“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Benny.” You muttered, turning on the stairs and trailing upwards.

He was left speechless, watching you ascend without quarrel. He fumbled, his hands rolling into balls before relaxing. He stepped upwards once, then twice. Then a couple steps at a time before grabbing your arm. You clenched your jaw, looking at the hand he had on your body. “What-” “Let’s play.”

“For what?” “For who had more in that kiss.” You turned towards him, swallowing hard as you noticed just how close he was and how it must have looked like to others as they went up and down the stairs around you as he had stopped you right in the middle. “Who had more. You or me?”

[brywrites]

Lock and Key I

Summary: In which Spencer Reid stumbles upon a GED class at Millburn and feels something like hope for the first time in weeks.

[Series Masterlist]

....

The prison library is a haven, for the few minutes he’s allowed to visit twice a week. It’s quiet, secluded, and full of his favorite things – books. The selection is nowhere near as nice as his personal collection at home, or the public library, but it’s better than nothing. Without words, he’d go mad. He needs stories to keep him sane, to give him a route he can escape by.

Today though, he’s startled to walk into the small space and find twelve other prisoners inside – accompanied by a face he’s never seen before. A woman. What’s even more surprising is that she doesn’t wear the uniform of a guard or an employee. Instead she’s in Converse sneakers and a lavender polka-dotted dress. It’s been so long since he saw that color – any bright color, really. But it’s his favorite and it isn’t until that moment that the realizes how much he’s missed the simplest of things. The sight of his favorite color. Bright images in dull spaces. Things that look hopeful.

Reid isn’t sure what’s going on, but the other prisoners seem to be too absorbed in the books to notice him. Just as he’s thinking he can back away quietly and return tomorrow, she turns around, smiling at the sight of him.

“Well hello there!” she says. “Are you Luis?”

Reid tilts his head, confused. How does this stranger know his friend? “Uh, no, no I’m not. I’m sorry, who are you?”

Her smile drops, though she doesn’t seem annoyed. Merely disappointed. “Oh. They told me Luis would be joining us today, but he never showed up. I’m Y/N. I’m one of the teachers here.”

This is the first he’s heard of such a thing. “You teach?”

She nods. “That’s right! I teach a couple of different groups – a few college classes here and there, a resume workshop. This is my GED class. We’re starting a unit on British Literature so they’ve all come to pick out a novel. You must be new here,” she notes, looking him over. He can feel himself flush under her gaze. It’s been a while since someone looked at him just to see him and not to evaluate his potential as a threat or a tool. “If you’d like, you can join the class. I’ve got plenty of open seats.”

“Oh no, I don’t need a GED.”

“It’s never too late to graduate,” she says. Then, considering him, “But that’s not what you meant is it?”

The way she’s studying him makes him nervous, though he’s certain it’s the same way he’s studied suspects and victims, trying to see beyond the obvious and understand what lies beneath. How strange, to be on the other side of that stare. “I’ve graduated high school already,” he informs her, hoping he doesn’t sound aloof. “And college. Actually, I hold three PhDs.”

“In what?”

“Mathematics, chemistry, and engineering.”

Y/N holds his gaze, taking this in. It’s as though she’s trying to decide whether or not to believe him. He figures in this environment, perhaps it’s not unusual to be told blatant lies by some prisoners. Delusion and paranoia aren’t uncommon. To teach in a place like this, she would have to be insightful and observant. For whatever reason, she must decide to trust him, because she smiles again.

“Well that’s rather impressive. You’re more qualified than I am. Just a Master’s for me.”

Reid decides against commenting in the irony of the situation, that despite his qualifications he’s nothing but a prisoner here. The same category as every drug-dealer, murderer, petty thief, and gangbanger. No better. But the way she looks at him, it at least makes him feel normal again. She looks at him like he’s a human being, with no disdain or disgust in her gaze, and no air of superiority in her voice.

“What did you study?” he asks her.

“English literature in college, education in grad school. I specialized in literature and languages, though I’m not too shabby when it comes to history. If it’s the STEM field you’ll be wanting though, you’ll have to check in on Tuesdays and Thursdays, my colleague teaches those classes.”

Glancing down at her watch, her eyes widen. “Goodness, we’re almost out of time.” She turns to the other inmates and instructs them to make their choices before she has to dismiss class for the day. To him, she adds, “It was nice to meet you – um…”

“Doct-” he begins, before stopping himself. This isn’t a normal introduction. Here, he holds no title, no position of importance. “Er, Spencer. My name is Spencer.”

“Well, Doc –” He tries not to smile at her casual acknowledgment – “if you ever change your mind, we meet Mondays and Wednesdays in room W15 during the afternoon rec slot.”

Despite having no need to attend a GED class, and for reasons he cannot quite explain, he finds himself slipping into that very room on Wednesday afternoon. Y/N glances up from the whiteboard she writes on, faltering for only a brief moment when she catches sight of him slipping into an empty seat in the back row, but she carries on. They’re talking about common themes in Brit Lit, and she’s explaining the Canterbury Tales, which they’ll be reading parts of. From what Reid gathers, there aren’t enough copies of books for them to all read the same novel, but she’s printed out large sections of the Tales for them to read together. It’s familiar, and for someone whose life has largely revolved in academia, it’s soothing to be in an environment where learning is taking place and discussion is happening. Even though he sits silently in the back row, observing.

The other inmates have all picked out books to read on their own and report on, from King Lear to Brave New World. A few have even selected Bronte and Austen novels, which Y/N applauds them for. When she divides them into groups to read and discuss “The Knight’s Tale,” she slips over to join Reid in the back of the room.

“I didn’t think you’d make it, Doc,” she tells him.

He shrugs. “I – I’ve kind of missed the classroom. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to sit in. If you don’t mind, of course!”

“Not at all.” She smiles, dismissing his worry with a wave of her hand. “The more the merrier. Besides, it’s rare that I have students with such an extensive education beforehand.  You’ll need to file an enrollment slip though, just for official records.”

She hands him a piece of paper and a commissary pen. While he doesn’t need the credit, he could use the normalcy. Discussions about books with other people in a space that feels a little safer – even if it doesn’t look like the classrooms he’s used to. The walls are stark white and bare save for three posters of famous writers and scientists. The two windows have thick bars on them. The desks are bolted to the floor. Every man in the room wears prison issued blues. But there is a whiteboard and a bookshelf and a clock. And Y/N, in a bright blue turtleneck. It makes him think of the sky, which he only gets a glimpse of for a few hours each week. Suddenly, she’s become the most vivid connection to the outside world.

“How long have you been teaching here?” he asks as he writes down answers to the form’s printed questions.

“Almost three years now. It started with just GED classes, but some volunteer programs have helped us bring new opportunities to the guys. It took me a while to convince the warden, but they’ve been a huge success. So are you coming from another facility? I know we had some transfers last week.”

He shakes his head. “I uh, I haven’t been sentenced yet. But there was overcrowding at the jail so they sent me here.” Reid pauses. “I assumed you would’ve known that.” The inmate records are publicly available. All she’d have to do is search his name or the number on his clothing and everything she needed to know would be right there – his charges, his admission date, his identifying information and that ID photo from his first day.

But she just shrugs. “I make a point not to look up what my students have been convicted of. I let them volunteer that information if they choose to, but I respect their privacy. Besides, I’d like to believe all of us are more than the worst thing we’ve ever done.”

He’s struck by her words. After all, for the last decade his job has been to see people precisely as the worst thing they’ve ever done. To delve deep into those actions and develop a profile of a person on that alone. He has an impulse to dismiss her statement as naïve, but it reminds him of Garcia, of her boundless optimism and her ability to see the best in the world even after looking at the worst of it. That memory and the smile Y/N looks at him with softens the heart he’s been carefully hardening since he arrived here. And so rather than dampen her spirit he asks, “Does it matter if I’ve read all of the books you’re discussing already?”

Her eyes widen ever so slightly with surprise. “All of them?”

“My mother was a literature professor,” he says. “And I just really like books.”

“Well, typically I’d encourage you to take the courses we offer for college credit but they’re full. Since you already have your GED, I suppose we could treat it like you’re auditing. It might help some of the guys to have someone with a little more academic experience…” She trails off and then gasps. “Oh wait! How would you feel about being the TA for the class? It’s been so long since I had one for the GED classes.”

“Like… grade papers and things?”

“No, not like that,” she says. “There are strict rules about who sees what here. Being a TA for me would be less typical TA duties and more of mentoring the other students, helping me clean up after class, re-shelving books, things like that. It’s not an official job so there’s no pay, but you would get good time credit.”

Though he doesn’t know what his sentence here will be, if he’s sentenced at all, he knows that any good time credit he can obtain to reduce the length of it is worth it. And so he says, “Okay.”

Y/N’s eyes light up. Her smile is the prettiest thing he’s seen since he got here. “Perfect! Oh, this is so exciting. I’m glad you joined us.” When he finishes the paperwork, she leads him to an empty seat at a group of tables.

“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong, Porkchop. It’s a love story,” one of the men is saying to another.

“Come on now, Xavier, you know the rules,” Y/N interrupts. “Nicknames stay outside the classroom. We use first names here.”

“Sorry, Teach,” Xavier says. He tries again. “It’s a love story, Carl.”

“That’s more like it. Carl, I can’t wait to hear your response. But first, I’m going to have Spencer join your group, alright? He’s our newest student and our TA for the class. He’s read a lot of these books so if you’re having a hard time or want to talk to someone about the material outside of class time, he’s a great person to ask.”

The group welcomes him – Xavier, Carl, Richie, and Luis. Reid is grateful to be with Luis, the one person he knows he can consider a friend inside. They talk about Chaucer and “The Franklin’s Tale,” and he’s surprised by the critiques and connections his peers make. Their debate is certainly different than the conversation he’d expect to find at a university class, but their ideas are still insightful and interesting. They make connections to their own lives, to the sacrifices they have made and the power of love they have witnessed firsthand. Mothers who never stop fighting for their appeal cases. Friends who send money so they can afford commissary. The difficulty of skipping commissary so they can send money home to their own families outside.

When their discussion finally winds down, Reid asks, “What’s the rule with nicknames about?”

“It’s Miss Y/N’s way of humanizing people,” Xavier says. “She says when we use first names like that, we’re all equals. But it’s different outside of class. We stick to nicknames because that’s what you do, y’know?” Reid shakes his head. Xavier chuckles. “You’re fresh meat, huh. First time you been down? In here, COs turn you into just a number or a last name. So nicknames inside are a way to hold on to some of your identity. Beyond that, there’s some guys in here you don’t want knowing your name, you feel me?”

“Nicknames gotta be given to you by someone else. Can’t make your own. Course, that means they’re usually a little insulting. They call me Porkchop,” Carl says. “Xavier’s Hammerhead. Richie is Spiders. And Luis, he been christened Slim Jim yesterday at chow. But don’t worry, we’ll find one for you soon.” Reid isn’t sure how to feel about the assurance. He doesn’t want to belong here, doesn’t want to fit in or get comfortable. On the other hand, he may be here for a while. Maybe laying low and finding allies wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

He knows one thing for sure – as he walks out of class, Y/N flashes that bright smile at him again. And for some reason, it makes him feel hopeful. More hopeful than any session with lawyers or judges has made him feel. Monday can’t come soon enough.

[Next]

..

Tags: @calm-and-doctor​ @averyhotchner​

[doloresdraws]

I wanted to paint Werner right after the Embrace before he was completely disfigured. I will write the full scene of his Embrace and what led to it in some other post in the future.

The story below follows him right after the Embrace.

The night after he, on his way from a bar, found a severely burned woman and despite him wanting to take her to the hospital, she convinced him to take her to his motel room instead. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving her on her own after he had seen the men trying to burn her alive.

He was very drunk, because he was celebrating getting a contract for his and Leslie’s book that he was about to sign tomorrow. He tried his best to tend to the woman’s wounds with what he had found in the motel room and tried to talk to her to figure out what happened and if she needed any more help from him.

Werner even offered to take her to the police station to report what happened, but despite his gentle and comforting approach she was impassive and the more he tried to tell her that everything is going to be alright, the more she snapped at him.

He was in no shape to argue with her, so he decided to leave it for the morning, when he's gonna think more clearly. Maybe she will change her mind and lets him call the police or at least take her to the hospital.

After leaving the hurt woman in his bed, he tried hard to stay awake in case he would need to go to the motel manager to call an ambulance for her, but he was still quite drunk and he fell asleep on a couch after a while.

When he woke up his head hurt terribly and it took him a few minutes to shake the sharp pain off him and recollect last night's memories. When he remembered that there was a woman that was severely burned in his bed, he forgot about his pain and he rushed to see her, fearing that he might find her dead.

But the bed was empty and just now he noticed how dark all of his surroundings were, the blinds were closed and the sheets were covering the windows. He called out for the woman, but his motel room was dead silent.

Now, when he was sure the woman left, he instinctively went to check his wallet, but his ID and money, everything was in its place. He sat down, thinking that if she was able to leave, her injuries must have been less severe than it looked like. He thought that she probably got scared after he told her that he will take her to the police station to report the men that tried to burn her alive. After calming himself down, he glanced at the time at his watch and he was shocked.

It was 6pm, he rushed to the window to open the blinds only to see the evening sky. He realized that he missed his appointment with the publisher that was at at 2pm. He cursed at himself, how could he oversleep for the whole day when he had such and important appointment.

As he went to take a shower and started to wash himself, he noticed weird bruises and lacerations all over his hands and after checking, he found more of those over his whole body. He didn’t panic as he explained them as a result of getting burned while helping the woman.

When he noticed clumps of hair in his hand after drying his hair, he cleaned the mirror to see how big the damage was only to notice more injuries on his face, he could see one of his eyes clouded with a milky film. But he couldn’t get a very good look at his face, because there was something clearly wrong with the mirror, he couldn’t get his face to sharpen in the reflection and after a few desperate attempts of trying to clean the mirror he gave up and just got dressed.

He rushed out of the motel to the nearest phone booth and tried to call the publisher’s office to apologize, but nobody picked up as they were probably already closed. He then thought that he should probably call Leslie, but he couldn't because he was out of change. He realized that he was not feeling well, he had quite severe hangover and he felt that all of the adrenaline had worn out... That was why he felt so much cramping and tension inside, shattering headache and a sharp pain in his limbs and rib cage.

He decided to buy a hot dog from a nearby stand, the vendor gave him weird stares, but Werner ignored them, he smelled the hot dog and the stench was awful, but he felt so hungry, he just bit into it and as he tasted it, he couldn’t hold it inside, spitting it out immediately.

Werner turned around to go back to the vendor to tell him something about how nasty the food was, but the people on the street stared at him in disgust that he decided it was not worth it.

He then went into a first diner that he saw, hoping that maybe he can at least have a coffee to get rid of the pressing headache. Inside of the diner he was met with more of the grossed out stares from the other people, some of them even made a step back from him looking at him as he was some kind of a dirty lowlife. He politely asked for a coffee and when he took out the money, smiling at the waitress and saying that he just had a bad day, the waitress forced a smile and squeamishly took the money in a way that made Werner feel like he was contagious.

He felt so uncomfortable with his gaze buried into the table until his coffee was delivered. He was so looking forward to take a sip, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually drink it as if he knew that he won’t be able to.

After what felt like a painful eternity, he took a deep breath and with a shaking hand kicked the whole cup in his throat. Everyone at the diner stared at him, some with disgust and some with general curiosity at the weird man trying to drink a cup of coffee as if it was a shot of whiskey. He tried to hold it in as he realized that there were people watching, but he couldn’t, he started to cough, he tried to make it into the cup, but of course his hands were shaking and he spilled it all over the table.

Some of the men sitting nearby shouted some insults at him. Werner got up and started to apologize to the waitress for the mess, but she just rolled her eyes at him.

There was no point in making this even worse, everyone here thought he was some kind of a drunk idiot, so he ran on the street hoping that the fresh air will make him better.

He walked aimlessly for a bit, but soon he started to go through phases when he felt that his insides were about to tear him apart.There had to be something wrong with him, he needed to go to the hospital. But the problem was, he didn’t know where the nearest hospital was.

He tried to approach people asking for directions, but they either ignored him before he even said anything as they thought he was a homeless person begging for money or stopped to help him, but as soon as they had seen his face they backed away, leaving him frustrated and lost.

He didn’t understand why people treated him so poorly, he was polite and he showered in the morning, wore nice clothes, just because he was not feeling well, they avoided him like the plague.

It crossed his mind a few times to call Leslie, but then he always said to himself that he doesn’t need to worry her just yet, first he wanted to get checked into the hospital, find out what was wrong with him and then he would call her.

After walking aimlessly for a bit, he got tired of the weird stares, so he instinctively avoided people and chose to walk the back alleys, hoping to find a hospital or a police officer to ask for directions.

In one of the alleys he saw a homeless man sitting on the ground, covered in sheets, drinking something from a bottle. As Werner walked next to him, he saw a hat on the ground with a few pennies that people probably threw at him and he thought that today he felt how it probably feels to be in his shoes, so he took out some change and put it in his hat. “Thanks, man.”

The homeless man examined Werner’s face in the street light for a moment. “Man, you look like shit. Need a drink?”  The man moved a bit to the side to make space for Werner and gestured with his hand to offer Werner to sit down. “C’mon, sit, man.”

Werner smiled at him, finally someone wasn’t repelled by him, he awkwardly sat next to the man and cautiously accepted the flask. Today was one of the worst days in his life, if it meant that he will share a drink with a man that might be unclean and homeless, but treats him like a human being, then it was what he was going to do. But once again as soon as he swallowed the drink he felt it was coming back in his throat and he barfed. The man laughed. “You don’t drink often, do you?” and tried to hold Werner’s shoulders to somehow comfort him. When Werner turned around to smile and thank the man for his humane behaviour towards him, seeing the man so close to him made him somehow overwhelmed and suddenly everything went red for him.

“Holy shit, man! What the actual fuck!” Was what he heard from somewhere in the distance and then came pain as he felt his body slammed at the wall. Werner was confused and angry, but the cramps were gone.

A different man stood over him, his red hair falling into his clearly furious face. “At least lick the fucking wound!”

Werner didn’t understand anything.“What?”

The ragged man pointed to the side when the homeless man was lying, blood pouring over his neck. “Lick it, moron, what the hell are you waiting for?!”

Werner started to shake his head putting his hands up, clearly confused at what happened and wanting to leave. But the savage man grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him above the unconscious man. “Do it!” and Werner reluctantly did.

He thought it would be disgusting, but it was quite the other way around, the drops of the blood on his neck tasted like the tears of heaven.

Werner shook the unconscious man, horrified with what he might have done to him… “Is he gonna be alright?”

The red-haired man gave the homeless man one disinterested look. “He’ll make it... probably. But that is only because I intervened, you were gonna drink him dry…”

“Now explain yourself. This is my domain, what the hell do you think you are doing here?!”

Werner was shaking and told the man everything about how he was not feeling himself since the night before and how he can’t imagine that he could do this.

The man in the denim jacket listened to everything quite impatiently. “You serious? You really have no idea what this all is?! Damn, that explains a lot. Fuck, why does this have to happen in my domain, dammit.”

Werner begged him to take him to the hospital to which the man just shook his head. “I am afraid the hospital is not what you need, dude. By how fucked up you look, you have to be one of the Lazarus’ flock. You will have to come with me.”

He gestured to Werner to follow him, but Werner reluctantly glanced at the man on the ground before following him. “I... Need to call my wife.”

Severin stopped. “Sorry to break it up to you, pal, but you are not going to call anyone.”

Werner started to back away, ready to bolt out of here, this man was clearly unstable and dangerous. He wanted to call ambulance or police and most of all he wanted to call Leslie and hear her voice telling him that everything is gonna be alright again. “I can’t just…I need to tell her…”

But before he even finished that sentence, the man grasped him by the wrist with a huge clawed hand “I told you, you are coming with me. Voluntarily or not.”

His yellow eyes glared with rage and he crushed Werner’s wrist more. ''Do you understand now?!” The fear of this monstrous man made him give up and just nod in defeat.

Severin took him down to the docks where he knew the other Nosferatu frequented. The whole way Werner thought about what the hell he got himself into, wishing he could turn back time.

Werner © me/doloresdraws

[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

Chapter 3

⚠WARNING: Mention of previous characters' deaths

• ────── ✾ ────── •

You have no idea how you got here.

Here, being in front of the lone coffee shop on campus, on your way to meet the stranger who’s had the misfortune to get Hajime’s old phone number and receive your sad ramblings meant for no one else.

And you, the author of those sad ramblings, written in moments of weakness, are going to sit with this stranger and….

You haven’t gotten that far yet.

Honestly, you’ve been more incredulous at the odds of this meeting even happening.

What the hell am I doing???

You really have no explanation, not even for yourself. The time is 9:58 and in two minutes you’re going to walk into the cafe and meet with a stranger who is going through a traumatic life experience similar to yours.

Ok, so you can explain what you’re doing. But the why is what’s escaping you. And frankly that should scare you more than it is currently doing.

Especially seeing how you haven’t told your friends what you’re doing. You bugged off lunch (much to Oikawa’s annoyance) but didn’t tell them why. Not only would Oikawa throw a fit but he, Mattsun and Makki wouldn’t understand your reasoning for meeting a stranger you met only a few hours ago.

They really wouldn’t understand why you don’t have a solid reason for meeting this stranger.

Put all the red flags together and you would find yourself locked in your apartment with no means of escaping under Oikawa’s watch.

To be fair, you are meeting them in a public place and you have no intention of going anywhere with the stranger. You’re just going to go have a cup of tea, shoot the shit, and then leave.

Yeah, it’s definitely doable. And not at all crazy.

You take a deep breath before walking inside the shop. It’s a bit crowded - the weekend mid-morning rush makes the employees hustle behind the counter to fill orders. All of the tables are full, leaving no space for two strangers to sit and….

Oh, this was a bad idea. A really bad and stupid idea.

Your phone rings in your pocket. You pull it out and nearly jump at the caller ID.

Your brain points out that it’s not Hajime but the stranger you’re meeting. You pick up the phone quickly. “Hello?”

“Heya, how’re ya doin’?”

You hope you’ve schooled your expression into nonchalance but you can’t help your eyebrows jumping hearing the clear Kansai dialect through the phone.

Besides the surprise at the unfamiliar drawl, you’re pleased to hear a clear and strong voice on the other line. Nothing creepy or weird or anything your brain was trying to convince would be the case.

“Hi.” You reply into the phone. You can hear background noise from his end, which assures you again that he must actually be here.

“‘M over in the corner with the baseball cap.”

Your eyes move to the corner immediately and zero-in on a figure sitting at the table there. It’s a man, wearing a dark long-sleeve shirt and a dark ball cap. And he’s staring straight at you.

You hang up the phone and walk over to him. You spot a coffee cup on the table in front of him and watch as he takes his hat off and sets it on the tabletop. His silver-grey hair is messed up from the hat but that’s the least of your concerns at the moment.

No, what has you almost faltering in your steps is the exhaustion that lies deep on his face. The bags under his eyes are heavy and stark against his pale skin. His mouth is drawn in a small frown and with his eyebrows furrowed slightly it makes him look troubled.

You recognize his weariness. This is a man who is burdened to carry an intangible weight.

However this man still meets your gaze and gives you a small, tired smile. The small gesture brightens his face considerably but doesn’t completely erase the empty look. But you feel your nerves settle when he smiles at you.

“Hi,” he says when you approach the table.

“Hello.” You sit in the chair opposite of his and shrug your jacket off. “It’s busy, thanks for grabbing a table.”

“No worries.” Hearing his calm and measured tone in person relaxed you more than you realized and you felt some tension release from your shoulders. “‘M here all the time and I figured they’d be a bit busy on Saturday. D’ya want me to grab ya something from the counter?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You shake your head to emphasize your point.

“Nah, I insist. Coffee? Tea? Fancy mocha drink?”

“Uh,” you’re startled by his insistence but relent. “A tea, please. Jasmine if they have it.”

He nodded before standing and making his way to the register, letting you fully settle in your seat and try to still comprehend what the hell you are doing.

Mid-inner freak out (oh god, what if he drugs my tea, what am I doing?!) a cup materializes in front of you. Osamu comes around with another cup for himself and sits in the chair across from you.

“They had Jasmine and it smells amazin’.” He shifts in his seat and takes a sip of his coffee. “‘M not a big tea drinker but that smells like it would calm ya down real good.”

You send him a smile before lifting the cup up. The smell of jasmine tea was soothing and the taste was even better when you took a small sip. “It’s my go-to comfort drink. I’ve probably had a few more cups than normal in the past few months.”

The sympathetic look the stranger sends you makes you purse your lips, realizing too late what you said. You look away, cursing to yourself. Great, way to go and make it awkward now. It’s quiet for a bit, now awkward by your weird ~fun fact~

“My name’s Miya Osamu.” You look up at the man and see a rueful smile on his face. “I probably shoulda told ya my name earlier. ‘M a first year student at Sendai University.”

You blink. Of fucking course you didn’t know his name. You never thought to ask when texting him earlier. You met up with a LITERAL stranger for tea and coffee.

“Wow, I’m sorry for being so rude!” You hurriedly say. “I should’ve asked AGES ago. But my name’s L/N Y/N. I’m also a first year student at Sendai.”

“Huh.” Osamu (not The Stranger) says. “What a weird coincidence.”

You nod. “Yeah, um are you not from around here? I can tell by your dialect.”

Osamu hums. For the first time you see his face fall and set into something more stone-like. It’s a subtle difference but it’s there nonetheless. “Hyogo. Came to Miyagi for school and had to get a new number.”

“Oh.” It’s a dry answer that you really don’t know how to reply to. “Do you like it so far?”

He shrugs. “It’s not bad. Pretty far.”

You nod. “Yeah, it is.”

You both lapse into a silence that is neither comfortable nor relaxing.

Oh my GOD this is so awkward! Why did you agree to this? Why did you think this was a good idea?! Yeah sure, he’s not a freaking weirdo serial killer, you can check that off your list. But you didn’t think about what you would actually TALK about!

“Do ya wanna talk about Hajime?”

Your reply to his question is to spit your tea across the table.

You look up to meet Osamu’s concerned gaze. Neither of you move before you both reach across to grab napkins from the dispenser.

“Are ya alright?”

“Oh my god I’m so sorry!”

In your haste to clean up your tea the napkin dispenser gets knocked to the ground, and the napkins explode out like an explosion of white confetti.

“Ahhhhhhhh!” The napkins springing up startle you so much that your knee knocks into the table hard, almost upending Osamu’s coffee.

“Argh!” You lean down to clutch your knee as it throbs painfully but your head collides with the table instead. “OUCH!”

“Are ya alright?!” Osamu asks frantically.

You exhale deeply. “Yep, I’m just a klutz. Fuck, that hurt my head.” You wish you could keep your head down and disappear. But you look up, your face bright red with embarrassment, and meet the concerned look from Osamu.

“I’m ok,” you reassure. “Really.” You look around at the mess surrounding your table and catch a few people gawking. Good lord. “Besides my pride taking a beating, I’m all good.” You stoop down to grab the napkins scattered around, wincing at the waste. Osamu also bends down to help.

“It looked like a pretty hard hit,” he notes.

“It’d be worse if I had something in my head worth keeping safe.”

Osamu smiles at your quip, a little half-smile. It’s nice.

Soon you both stand back up to throw out the napkins. Osamu grabs the bunch from you, letting you sit back down. You try to cool the fuck out and you will your face to not resemble a tomato when he comes back.

“Are you sure yer alright?” Osamu asks again.

“Yes, really.” You nod. “I’m sorry if I spat tea on you. I was just really surprised.”

Osamu tilted his head. “From what I said?” You nod. “Why?”

“I mean,” you start. “It mainly just caught me off guard. I’m not used to it, like just talking about him.”

“Do ya talk about him at all?”

You want to nod, but thinking about it you honestly don’t remember the last time you were able to tell someone about Hajime. Not his passing, but just talking about the person that he was.

“Oh.” Osamu pauses, looking at you considering. “Well my old therapist said it’s good to talk about this stuff, so I figured that’s what ya wanted.”

You don’t know how to reply to his simple explanation. Because you do want to talk about Hajime. You want to so badly. You want to tell the world how amazing he is, how he makes the world a better place just by existing, how strong he is and how much lighter you feel when he’s around

Or, how it was.

But you haven’t been able to talk about him. Every time you tried to talk outside of group therapy with your friends, Oikawa shuts down and Makki and Mattsun get uncomfortable. Your therapist is always able to handle anything you throw at her, but it’s not the same as just talking about a friend to someone.

So maybe Osamu is right about just talking about Hajime.

“He has hair like a porcupine.”

Osamu gives you a look of confusion before you continue. “Our friend Oikawa used to call him prickly, and we’d tease him when he’d bristle up and say he looks like a porcupine.” You laugh at the memory of Hajime bristling up, constantly egged on by Oikawa. “It wasn’t even bad hair, it was just so sharp. It was weird.”

Osamu doesn’t say anything for a second before he bursts out laughing. “Atsumu had weird hair too - dyed bleach blonde. Thought it made him look badass.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

You wrap your hand around your cup of tea, hesitating. An obvious question hangs in the air but for the first time since sitting down Osamu looks a bit lively.

“Was Atsumu your brother?”

The lightness on Osamu’s face is extinguished when he nods at your question. “Yeah, he’s a pain in the ass but I love him.” He pauses, looking down at his coffee cup. “Well, he was.”

You can feel the pain radiating from that one word. You understand the horrid dread that comes when you realize you’d been speaking about Hajime in the present tense. Even more so when you have to admit it out loud.

You look at Osamu and frown upon seeing his withdrawn expression. You feel immense guilt, knowing that you’ve contributed to his change in mood.

You’re desperate to lighten the mood and bring that smile back to Osamu’s face. You search through your memories, trying to find something funny. A thought crosses your mind and you feel a small smile grace your lips.

“There was one time that my friend was determined to roast smores on Iwa’s head.” You giggle at the disbelieving look on Osamu’s face. “Yeah, it was the stupidest idea he’d ever concocted. We didn’t even get one marshmallow on his head.”

“We?” Osamu asks, his voice lifting in amusement ever so slightly.

“Of course.” You reply, a smile spreading over your face at the memory and at Osamu’s content face. “I too was curious if we could do it.”

Osamu snorts, shaking his head as he brought his coffee to his mouth. “That idea would have intrigued Atsumu for sure. He was all about the far-fetched plots to piss off everyone around him.”

You smile, leaning forward in your chair. “Oh yeah? Wanna share some notes?” Osamu’s face brightens slightly at your words and he begins to talk, more animatedly than before.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: So nothing bad happened with Y/N meeting the stranger (besides her being a clumsy klutz, where are my fellow klutzes at?) Thank you for reading, I hope this chapter was a little soft respite from the initial angst~

Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU (bold cannot be tagged): @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien

[mashep23]

Blame it on the Rain

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Modern!AU. A surprise rainstorm changes the course of your day.

Warnings: Like one cuss word? Pure fluff

A/N: My endless thanks and love to: the incredible @river-soul for her beta work and guidance, and the wonderful @whisperlullaby for her support and feedback. 💖💖💖

Disclaimer: image not mine

Oh no. You groan in dismay. The skies open and fat rain droplets splatter darkly onto your clothes and coat as you dash down the sidewalk. You spot cover ahead and dart directly to the storefront with a blissfully wide awning.

You gracelessly slide under the shelter of the canopy, your haste for cover hindering your ability to slow down. Your flats abruptly catch traction on a patch of dry pavement and you pitch forward. Barely managing to stay upright, you have just a moment to breathe in relief when you're jostled from behind. Stumbling slightly from the jolt, you feel hands on your hips steady you from behind as you hear a man's voice swear quietly.

"Oh shit - er, shoot, sorry - I didn't realize you'd stopped! Are you okay?"

You're both breathless and laughing softly as you step apart. You take a moment to straighten your jacket and hitch your bag higher onto your shoulder, reassuring him before you even turn around.

"Oh gosh, yes I'm fine, thanks. Are you...okay…" Your voice trails off as you turn and face a broad chest, eyes travelling up and up. Good heavens. What were you saying? You blink to focus, your eyes taking in a startlingly handsome face before your brain catches up and you rush to cover your faltering speech.

"H-here let me move underneath a little more so you have some room," you offer as you shift to stand deeper under the awning.

He grins in thanks, following you under the canopy, and stepping further away from the rain dripping overhead from the edge. He looks down to check his clothing, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth it after your sudden, albeit gentle, collision. You follow his gaze down, realizing he's dressed in some kind of uniform under his open coat, and you have to make yourself look away before he notices your stare.

"Sorry for almost causing you to fall, but thanks for catching me," you say after a moment, smiling as you chance a sideways glance at him. He's mid-peek, looking in your direction too and you catch his eyes, a surge of warmth filling you at his sheepish expression.

He clears his throat before replying, "I saw you make a break for it so I followed you. I should have been paying more attention." He gives a self-deprecating huff and shakes his head, shoving both hands into the pockets of his jacket. "I'm the one who needs to apologize for almost knocking you down."

"No need, honest. It’s all good." You deny sweetly, reassuring him.

You're rewarded with a cute half grin and you have to purse your lips to keep your smile small as you look out through the raindrops. You both stand there in a companionable silence, watching the street as the world seems to slow down.

It's soothing, relaxing, and makes you feel peaceful. Soon, you’re taking slow deep inhales of the fresh, clean air and enjoying the experience, feeling the tension ease from your shoulders. You hear a quiet, measured exhale from your companion and you both seem to realize at the same time that you’re doing the same thing. You share a shy grin before quickly looking away.

You spend the next couple minutes surreptitiously exchanging sideways glances with him, trying your best to make it seem like a natural move. You’re feeling ridiculously obvious, constantly biting your lip to contain your smile when you get caught looking. At the same time, however, if you’re getting caught then that means he was looking too...right? You're giddy at the thought and take one last long deep breath as you notice the rainstorm begin to lighten.

When the rain slows to a light misting sprinkle, as much as you’d like to be brave and say something to him - introduce yourself, anything - you lose your nerve. Sighing inwardly at yourself, you start preparing to set out from under the safety of the canopy. Pulling up the collar on your jacket and securing your bag to your shoulder, you smile and bid him farewell.

"Looks like it's letting up - better make the most of the break!" You say chipperly. "Thanks for keeping me company."

You give a small wave before heading down the sidewalk. He returns your wave and gives a small nod, a slight furrow to his brow, but otherwise a friendly expression on his face. As you turn away, you can't help but think maybe you should say something else, something to prompt another smile from him, just once more. Feeling a tiny rush of confidence and holding onto that feeling, you turn suddenly and call back to him.

"I hope you have a great day!" You allow yourself a moment to truly admire and appreciate the stunning smile you get in response. He really is just too pretty.

His lips spread a little wider before he returned the sentiment with a sincere, "Thank you! I hope you do too!"

You knew, just knew, that your answering smile was blinding, but you couldn't have toned it down if you tried. In an attempt to seem less obvious (moot point, really), you give him a quick nod before turning and heading back down the sidewalk.

You can't deny you have a little bit more pep in your step as you make your way to your meeting. As you come up to the company entrance, you pause to look through your bag, checking to make sure your portfolio is still dry. As you shift the bag back onto your shoulder, you feel something snag and pull on your jacket.

Your brow scrunches in a frown as you use your hand to try to correct the fabric, wondering what you could be caught on. Looking down as you pull your bag away from your body, you hear something hit the pavement. What the…?

After a quick glance around your feet and then behind you, you see an identification badge laying on the ground. As you stoop to retrieve it for further inspection, you realize you had inadvertently taken a souvenir from your fellow shelter-seeker under the canopy.

His handsome face looks solemnly back at you from what is obviously his work badge. Stark Technologies emblazoned across the top, S. Rogers under his photograph, SECURITY is in large print along the bottom.

He must have been headed to work! Oh man, he's gonna need this. You check your watch. There's no time. You'll have to return it to him after your meeting. Standing up and stashing the badge safely into your pocket, you enter the beautiful brick building to attend your meeting.

Luckily it's brief, your client wants to peruse the contents of your portfolio with his financial team before contacting you to finalize details. Expecting this, you graciously thank him for his consideration and within a half hour, you've concluded your meeting and are striding toward Stark Technologies. The trek isn't more than a few blocks, so you decide to walk it and enjoy the sun filtering through the clouds, the rainy morning a distant memory.

When you enter The Tower, you have to take a moment to get your bearings. Looking up and around, it's easy to spot the gleaming information desk positioned in the center of the bustling lobby. As you approach, you think of how you're going to phrase your request. Not wanting to get him into trouble for not having his badge, especially as a part of the security staff, you decide to just ask to speak to him.

The pleasant lady behind the desk sends you a sweet smile as she speaks into the phone to relay your request. After a quiet exchange, she directs you to a cozy waiting area situated to the side of the bank of elevators.

You sit stiffly on the edge of a plush couch and admire the décor as you wait. The building interior is predominantly glass, making the whole space appear larger, but also quite bright and open. You've got a silly smile on your face, thinking about the amount of Windex they must go through, when a throat clearing pulls you back to the present.

"Well, hello again."

You startle and stand quickly, flustered as you turn to face him. You watch his eyes flick down to your feet then back up to your face, a pleasant and patient smile in place. You lick your lips, trying to settle your nerves.

"Hi! Uh, so I know it probably seems odd that I'm here but um, I actually have something of yours. Came to return it - figured you might need this." You give him what you hope is a winning smile before reaching into your pocket and withdrawing the lost item. Your eyes stay on the badge in your fingers as you hold it out to him.

"Oh! Hey, thank you!" He takes the badge gently from you, fingertips brushing yours. When you finally lift your gaze, you find him grinning boyishly. He swiftly fastens his ID to his crisp shirt, completing his uniform.

You give him an appreciative once over and murmur a quiet, "You're welcome," as he continues.

"You know, you just saved me from so much paperwork and hoops to jump through to replace this stupid thing. Where did you find it?"

"It was stuck to me," you share with a laugh.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, an open mouthed grin in place. Shaking your head and shrugging one shoulder, you continue.

"It must have happened when we bumped into each other. I wanted to get it back to you as soon as I realized I had it but I had to make my meeting first," you finish apologetically. "I hope you didn't get into trouble."

"No, not at all," he quickly assures you. "I should have noticed I didn't have it. Thank you again for bringing it to me. You didn't have to so I really appreciate it." That heartstopping smile he aimed at you was going to kill you.

You lick your lips again before you reply and notice his eyes drop to track the quick movement before flitting back up. For half a second, you suddenly feel emboldened.

"It was my pleasure, trust me." Unwilling to let the opportunity pass you by yet again, you jerk your chin toward the badge pinned to his chest and ask, "So, what does the 'S' stand for, Rogers?"

"Steve. It stands for Steve." He says, eyes crinkling as his lips spread into a wide grin. You give him your name and can't help but laugh as he holds out his hand. As you shake his hand, you both murmur, "Nice to meet you," and you're certain that you have matching delighted expressions on your faces.

You realize you've taken up a considerable amount of his time while he is on the clock and you give him a regretful smile as you release his hand.

"I'd better let you get back to it. Don't want to get you into real trouble." Quirking a corner of your mouth up, you grip the handle of your bag on your shoulder and tilt your head as you step back.

Steve starts slightly as he looks around, almost as if he'd forgotten where you both are. He looks back at you and nibbles on his lip before taking a small step closer.

"I do have to get going. But before I do...would it be too forward to ask you for your number?" He searched your face earnestly and you could swear he was holding his breath.

"Not at all. I was kinda hoping you would," you admit, beaming up at him as you hold out your hand for his phone. You draw your lip between your teeth in a slow pull, eyes travelling over his face as you wait. The look in his eye and the slow spread of his lips is slightly less boyish and a touch more sinful as he slips his phone from his pocket and hands it to you.

You enter your number into a new text thread and send yourself a simple message before relinquishing his phone back to him. You watch as he eagerly takes it back and saves your contact information. When he looks back up, he has a breathtaking smile on his face, eyes focused on yours. You have to blink a couple times to focus before drawing yourself up a little straighter to bid him goodbye.

"I expect to hear from you soon," you say confidently, smirking and winking as you turn to leave. His surprised but pleased huff of laughter makes you grin just a little bit wider when you peek back over your shoulder.

"Yes ma'am. You will." He's beaming, eyes tracking you as you give one more small wave before pushing through the door.

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

Tagging my discord family:

@buckyownsmylife @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

[hitoshisbabygirl]

Authors Notes ♡: WHEW I LOVED THIS I had a time trying to come up with an idea and then it hit me : a princess being saved by fantasy au! Dabi. I’m still nervous with my smuts but heh I enjoyed this a whole bunch to write . Dabi is my favorite villain and I just love him so much, I tried to make him a soft inside and hard outside man in this , I Had fun for our free for all collab and I hope I help give it just a fun twist to fantasy and Halloween spirit ~ I hope you enjoy reading this and much as I did writing it ~ bunny ❥

Warnings :UH NSFW! Demon dabi has two dick (and their thick) , pet names, unprotected sex , a tad bit of a size kink? , a bit fluffy at the end but I think that’s it!

Word count : about 2k give or take!

Paring(s) :Dabi x F! Reader

Even with this being NSFW I had to make it a soft fluffy ending I’m sorry ♡

—————————————���—————————

Enchanted flames

Dabi

“If you have found this letter the Princess of Yuei needs your help. Meet me in the Enchanted Woods tomorrow night. Ill escape with you if you can save me from the proposed wedding - Princess [ ]”

With a sigh [. ] dropped the letter out of her window hoping someone, anyone , could save her from the doom that awaited her from an arranged marriage that had been planned from her kingdom to be to the neighboring ones prince, a smaller and very...purple hot headed boy by the name of Mineta who was unsavory for a lack of words. Sighing as she watched the paper fall she secretly wished her type of prince would come save her from this hell she expected.

As the night approached she slipped past her guards, telling them she was going out for air in her garden. The two towering men who looked down at her agreed, moving at the way to let the young woman past them and out into the halls, her dress dragging behind her as she headed out the giant doors to her garden. Taking in a breath she climbed over the perfectly managed hedges andddd off into the forest adjacent to the castle, roaming through the woods to her chosen spot to hopefully meet someone who could save her.

“Hello there little sheep, you called for help, correct?” A low, raspy voice called out as [ ] turned around , looking into the dark abyss in front of her. “ Hello? Helloooo? Who's there?” the girl called out as she heard something heavy land behind her. Turning to her right she saw bright blue eyes look back at her from the shadows. Before she could react a rather warm hand covered her mouth as the person or thing dragged her throughout the woods , the two of them slipping into the night. As soon as [ ] woke up her eyes adjusted to a dark but brightly lit and beautiful chasm, cyan and turquoise crystals of all types surrounded the room as she felt intense heat from everywhere around her. Standing up on shaky legs she felt eyes on her from behind. Letting out a deep breath she turned only to run into a barely covered chest.

Looking up from the revealed purple and pale skin , she saw those same blue eyes , lit with curiosity. “Ah you're awake..welcome little sheep to my...well..living quarters” The mystery man spoke as [ ] blinked at him, a grin spreading over his face as he continued to speak “Well i guess the princess doesnt know she isn't in her little castle anymore. Haven't those guards of yours realized they can't leave royalty alone or guys like me come along and take them out of their cute little homes” He said as [ ] gave him a suspicious look , her own thoughts taking over her face as a sense of calm rested over her features “Ohhh so you're the one who found my note..” She said as he gave her an unreadable look , soon walking away to leave the girl in her own world. “I guess he did” she thought to herself as she heard the male come back, a pile of things in his hands. “Here; a change of clothes and something to eat. I tried to be gentle taking you out of those dreaded castle grounds and through the woods but your dress isnt the smallest thing in the world” he said as [ ] let out a giggle , picking up the dark shirt and skirt he had given her along with the meal : some type of rice and meat with soup. Before she could ask the man answered “No i didnt steal it, i told you this is my home , its only natural id have something in this god forsaken place to eat.” He said as he pointed down the cave. “Theres a waterfall ahead if youd like to freshen up there.” And with that [ ] walked down the empty carved walls, finding the waterfall he was talking about.

Once she was finished getting cleaned and dressed she headed back the way she went, seeing the male now cloaked in a dark cape , fiddling with a pile of wood before setting it ablaze with a bright blue flame. “Ah i see you're finished , ILl be heading out , i'm gonna find us some more wood so you don't get cold. Theres a pot over there where you can reheat your food and get more if you like.” As he finished he proceeded to get up and head down another pathway, presumingly to the opening of the chasm “Wait!” [ ] called out as he stopped, turning to the girl with a questioning look back at her. “Yes princess?” he responded to her as she felt a unnatural wave of heat spreading to her face from simply calling her by her actual title. “What can I call you? And how long will you be gone?” She questioned. “Aw are you worried about me?” He cooed as she puffed out her cheeks “I was just curious” She lashed back as the male in front of her laughed , giving her a crooked smile. “ The names Dabi, and i won't be gone too long, an hour or so” Dabi said, giving her a smile as he started to leave again.

“Oh yeah , and there's a spare jacket in the back if you get too cold or that fire goes out.” and with that he left [ ] by herself as she finished up the dinner he had made which was exceptionally good, even better than what she tended to have at the castle. While she waited around for dabi to come back , [ ] looked at her royal dress, the red and pinks making her want to revolt as she pushed the fluffy tooled pile up into a blanket of sorts, covering her legs as she sat there thinking about her predicament “I really ran away...but what else can you do when youre gonna be married off to someone years older than you for land and alliance” she thought with a sigh as footsteps came from behind her , Dabi pulling his hood from his head as he smiled to himself at the girl in front of him “Im back princess” He declared as she turned to him, giving him a small smile as she stood up, dusting off her dress , coming up to Dabi “So...whatcha find?” She started as he pulled the bag from behind him , dumping out different goodies for the two of them. An array of food, wood and fresh buckets for water collections. “Here, this is for you too” Dabi said as he passed her a well woven balck dress, better than the two piece he had first given her. Taking in a deep breath he spoke up “I didn't want you to struggle with rags , so i got you something a little more comfortable and well...suitable for a run away princess” and with that she looked up to him and giggled which was heaven to his ears. ‘Why thank you Dabi..i'm flattered” [ ] said as she took the black dress , running to a hidden corner to change as Dabi smirked “Oh boy..what have i signed myself up for”

Weeks later and multiple posters for the lost princess later, [ ] had a rhythm living with Dabi. They cooked together and he left out to get things from shops ans out in the woods. Word spread that the princess had been stolen and the ugly grape himself had put a reward out for her safe return. Unknown to everyone she was quite content with the dark demon mage Dabi and his home in the woods. He explained the chasm as his work space, a place he could hone in on working with his flames and different elixirs that people needed. He was a half breed of human and demon, his father ridding of him to hide his affair with an otherworldly being, to keep the peace of his people and the overworld people as well. He really wasn’t a bad man, just someone who stayed in the shadows and kept to himself. And [. ] ‘s heart went out to him, as his did out to hers as she explained her own situation. ”Well damn sweetheart at least i saved you hm?” Dabi said as the two of them laughed together about their lives and what they'd like to change.

As the night drew on and they had their fair share of drinks and food that night “Thank you Dabi..for everything” [ ] said randomly as they relaxed by the fire he had started , [ ] wrapped into the oversized fur Dabi made her as the male laid against a log watching the tired girl mumble to him. She gave him a sleepy smile once he put his warmed hand on her face. “You're cute yknow...i'm not gonna let anyone get to you okay?” He said as she shook her head, moving herself closer to him , laying her head on his lap as he rubbed her head until she fell asleep, him soon realizing he was in love with the rogue princess in his lap.

As the next month rolled around , the princess and her demon mage had started a loving relationship, the two of them growing fonder and fonder of eachother. [ ] noticed that Dabi had tried avoiding being around her when she was fresh from the shower or even roaming too close behind her, he even took more time to come home with more ingredients or even sleep opposite to her. She didn't understand the switch from wanting to hold and hug her to avoiding her all day. One day she was able to catch and trap him with her. “Yes princess…?” Dabi ased as [ ] crossed her arms around her chest , the simple movement making him turn from her. “Did I..do something…?” She asked, her eyes bouncing between his as the turquoise she learned to love ignited with heat.

”Oh no doll...you haven't done a thing but make me want you even more..”

And with that comment her eyes widened. “What..?” She questioned. And with that Dabi picked the smaller girl up, pinning her to a crystal wall as she gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck.”Dabi…….?” [ ] called out as he started to kiss her neck ,running his rougher hands up the soft flesh of her thighs. “I think i'm in love with you doll..youve been invading my head or a while and all i can think about is making your cute little body want me the burning way i want you...I wanna make you cry out for me all night long...make you mines forever.....is that okay?” He whispered in her ear. With a shudder she agreed , letting him kiss the swells of her brest as he gave her a lopsided smile, picking her up and taking her to a pile of pelts and wool they made into a bedroom to rest in. Placing her down lightly he towered her , taking off his vest to reveal his toned and scarred body “Youre quite a beauty yknow...im glad you trust me…” He said with a smile as [ ] herself smashed her lips against his, cutting off his mushy talk. With a groan he pushed her dress up , letting her breast bounce out from the top. Pulling away from the kiss she helped him take off the dress over her head. With a shy smile [ ] covered ehrslf and laid back, spreading her legs lightly to expose her glistening lips to him

“Well damn, i havent even toughed you yet and youre this wet..what a little slut you are”

He growled out as he leaned back over to give her a kiss , pulling her lower lip as he licke dhis was down between her legs, giving her clit a hard suck as she whinned , closing her legs over his head as he slurped away at her pussy, making sure to watch her through hooded eyes, a tail whipping from behind him as a pair of horns appeared from atop his head, one mangled and cracked the other long and curled “Surprise” Dabi called out as his voice dropped octaves, it coming out as a low rumble as [ ] felt her walls clench at the sound , a chuckle coming from him. Going back to slurping and sucking on her labia and clit , Dabi watch with glee as the gilr under him started to shake, her hips rolling back to his mouth as he bit lightly down on her lips and pulled away from her , laughing at her pleas and whimpers “Turn sound baby and let me show you how much i love you” Dabi said , watching as [ ] rolled over arching her hips back as he smacked her ass, loving the moan she let out. Pulling down his pants he pulled his throbbing member out, rubbing it hard against her clit as she felt her heart jumped at the feeling of how thick he was. All of a sudden she felt hands pull her cheeks apart as a finger rub around the tight rings of her ass. With a gasp she looked back to see not one but two swinging dicks between the burning up male, a feral look in his eyes as he let a low rumble come from his chest “ Sorry babygirl..when I change there's more than just one of me to deal with, i promise i'll be gentle” He said as he rubbed her tight muscles just loose enough to put in the tip, her lower lips drooling as he slid his true size into her throbbing walls, moans and grunts tearing through the chasm as he pulled his hips back , starting to set a rhythm to his hips. While he picked up the pace, [ ] felt herself being full as the two dicks of his stuffed her. She could help the feeling of her walls getting tighter as she came once then twice and not once did Dabi stop, he laughed as he gave her more and more , pushing himself deeper in her as he let out what sounded like a howl of pain as he doubled in pace, reaching down to rub her clit as she screamed, soon feeling a hot and warm gooey feeling flood her senses. Dabi slowed his hips down as he pulled himself from her ass first, then from her pussy and cum started to leak from her holes.

“Shit...im sorry princess I didnt mean to go so rough…” Dabi breathed out as [ ] turned around giving him hr own lopsided smile as she saw him transform backto himself, those turquoise eyes softening as he saw the woman he had fallen for spent out from his own actions. “Geez when you said you were a demon i didnt think it was true…” She laughed as he scratched th back of his neck “Ive never transformed like this around someone….especially during sex but that means I trust you a lot….well doll..let me clean you up and then...we can go fro round two hm?” He smirked as he watched her pussy clench and relase more cum once he said that. “Mhm...clean me Dabi then we can have some more fun..”

[nightshade-minho]

-Blue Book- (12)

Warnings: negative emotions like heartbreak, envy etc, alcohol, excessive consumption of alcohol, making out etc.

Wc: 6.1k

You shot awake, groaning as you clutched the bed sheets tightly. Fuck, that was a terrible nightmare. You pushed the sheets off you, your skin feeling clammy and your hands sweaty.

"Y/n? You okay?" 

You turned to see Minho looking at you, his face covered in concern as he tentatively placed his hand on your arm, tilting his head.

"I'm fine..." You sighed and shook your head, sitting up straighter. "Really...it was just a bad dream." You mumbled, sliding out of the bed and glancing back at Minho with a reassuring smile. 

"Oh. Okay...' He stood up as well, adjusting the sheets and tucking them back in. 

"What do you want for breakfast?" 

You sighed and looked at the clock on Minho’s wall, pressing your lips together. "It's almost lunchtime. We definitely slept in...I am hungry, though." 

"Fine, call it brunch. Either way, it's food." He chuckled, heading out of the door as you followed him with a giggle.

Minho opened his fridge, glancing over at you. "Your phone was ringing at midnight, by the way. i was going to answer it but whoever it was gave up before I could pick up. I didn't want to wake you.” He said as he took out ingredients for omelettes, placing them on the counter. 

"Oh...it was probably Felix. I didn't exactly tell him I was staying at your place." 

"Ah, that explains it. Go, call him. I'll be done with this soon." he said, pointing to the currently empty pan.

You nodded and went back to the bedroom to grab your phone, heading to Minho's balcony as you dialled Felix’s number.

***

Felix was cleaning the dishes when he heard his phone ring. He looked over at the contact ID quickly, heaving a sigh of relief mixed with anger. He glanced at Chan before answering your call, putting you on speakerphone.

"Y/n! I was fucking worried sick! Chan told me you walked out without any explanation and then you didn't come back home, and-" 

"Woah woah, chill. I'm at Minho's, I stayed the night." 

"Oh..." Felix paused. He didn't miss the way Chan's already dull expression morphed into something even more sour at the mention of Minho’s name.

"I’m glad you're safe but...that still doesn't excuse what you did. You could have called. Instead, you let me worry." 

You sighed, guiltily. "I know...that was a dick move. I’m sorry, Lixie."

Felix sighed reluctantly. "I accept your apology, Y/n...you know I can't stay mad at you when you call me that." He pinched his forehead, trying not to let affection overcome him.

You giggled. "I know. My sunshine boy~ You can never be angry for too long, huh?" 

Felix fought off his smile, shaking his head. 'Yeah, enough of the buttering. You need to get back here soon, and help me with the decorations to show me you’re really sorry."

"Decorations?" You asked, confused as you heard Minho call out for you. Turning back around, you went back into the kitchen, grinning as you saw the buttery golden omelettes he'd placed on the plates. 

"They look so fluffy..." you mouthed, as Felix replied. "Yeah, for the party." he explained. "It's Jisung's birthday today, I thought you knew? Don’t tell me you forgot! The party's at our place-" 

"Oh! Fuck, I did forget about that, Lix- "

"It’s okay, just come home quick. Bring Minho if you’d like, we could definitely use the extra help." 

You nodded. "Sure, I'll be there right after breakfast." 

You shut down your phone, sitting down at the table and grabbing a fork, digging into the eggs. Minho looked up, swallowing before he spoke.

"Jisung’s birthday, huh? I can't believe you almost forgot. He's going to be very mad." Minho teased, waving his fork in the air at you and smirking.

"Too bad he'll never find out." You said smugly. "Right?"

"Right." Minho chuckled. "How are the eggs?"

"Amazing. Why are you and Felix such naturals at cooking? And then there's me, nearly burning down the kitchen the last time I tried." 

"Hey, it’s not your fault. It was the oven’s. We needed to fix it anyway." He laughed, continuing to eat his food. 

"I guess so." 

There was a comfortable silence for a bit as Minho watched you eat what he’d cooked for you. He hummed, realizing how calm he felt around you. Your presence made him feel so safe and secure. 

You seemed to really be enjoying what was on your plate. Moaning softly in appreciation, you took another bite, his cheeks flushing at the sound.

“This is...wow. Perfect.” You grinned up at him, chewing enthusiastically.

Minho wished he could cook for you every morning, for the rest of his life.

***

"You're finally here!" Felix shook his head, flinging the door open wide as he beckoned the two of you in. 

As you entered, your eyes immediately spotted Chan standing on the couch, hanging up a ‘Happy Birthday’ banner onto the wall. You inhaled sharply, your heart already beginning to pound errantly at the sight.

"We already did a lot of it without you..." he sighed. You gasped as you looked around the room, which had been completely transformed. There were tiny star-shaped lanterns hung from the ceilings, and the couch had been moved to the side, to provide space to dance. The living room was much cleaner, a stark contrast from how it looked yesterday.

"I know, I'm so sorry. I just overslept. Last night was weird. At least my headache is gone." You admitted. You felt Chan glance at you at that, quickly looking away before you could return his look.

Chan swallowed. His heart had dropped when he saw you and Minho walk into the room, together. One could only presume you'd stayed the night at his place. He felt overcome with jealousy, his chest rising and falling as he breathed heavily, desperately trying to focus on the task at hand.

Envy. It was an emotion he had always been quite familiar with, unlike happiness. The person he was envious of had been and still was Minho. Minho, who he'd used to call his best friend. 

First Miyoung, now you. Everything somehow circled back to him.

However, the jealousy he was feeling was a lot more profound this time. With Miyoung, there had been no illusions. Chan had been trying his best to win her over, but with no luck. Deep down, he’d known she was a lost cause.

With you, though...there was a time when he’d been almost sure you were the one, that you belonged to him...a time when he’d thought you were in love with him too. 

It wasn't like Chan to dream. He wasn't one to believe in happily ever afters, really. They just weren’t realistic enough...

But, for a brief moment, you had made him want one. 

Maybe that was why the bitter reveal had been all the more cruel... Minho, taking away what he considered his once more.

The thing was- Chan knew you were a human being. Not an object for him to claim. He wanted you to be happy...but would you be happy with Minho? He’d despised you back then. Chan still remembered the pure hatred that spewed out of Minho every time he talked about you. Had that been a ruse? Had he ever hated you? Or were you two secretly seeing each other the whole time, working together to undermine him and ruin the rest of his life?

Okay, so maybe that was a little far-fetched and absurd. Still...he didn’t know what to believe anymore.

Chan sighed and looked back at his banner, deciding to ignore the both of you.  

You tore your eyes away from Chan. Looking back at Felix, you hummed and tucked your hands in your pockets, breathing in.

"So, what do you want us to do?"

"Hm, let's see...we've got decorations and catering left. Minho can help me cook and you-" 

Your eyes widened. No way- Felix wouldn’t suggest you help Chan with the decorations, right? He knew better than to leave the two of you alone again.

You saw Chan freeze for a moment as well, although his back was turned away from you. Good to know he felt the same way.

Felix sensed the tension rising, quickly trying to salvage the situatiom. "Hm actually, Y/n... I think I’ll need your help with the food. Especially with the drink choices, you're always the best at that!" He turned to Minho, clapping his hands decidedly. 

"You can help Chan with the decorations, Min." 

Minho nodded after a moment of reluctance, grimacing as he went over to inspect the banner Chan was putting up. Felix took you to the kitchen as you heaved a sigh of relief, placing your hand on your chest. “That was a close call.”

He took out the menus he wanted you to pick from, as he watched your expression. 

"Why'd you leave last night, anyway?" He muttered sadly, carefully inspecting your face. 

You thought back on it. Why did you? Last night was kind of fuzzy in your mind, to be honest. You couldn’t even recall the final straw that had made you storm out of the house. It wasn’t like you to be this spontaneous. 

"Chan was annoying me, and making my headache worse. So I left." You shrugged. 

"...Right." Felix rolled his eyes. "Look, I didn't want to say anything at first, but you do realize we're all grown up now, right? It's time for us to put all that high school shit in the past. I know Chan did some pretty shitty things but is it really that hard to forgive him? Minho was terrible as well- maybe even worse, yet you forgave him." He pointed out. 

"Minho spent years grovelling and apologizing for his behavior. So what if he was mean, he's changed! It's clear to see. With Chan, I'm not so sure. I can feel the hate he has for me practically rolling off him.” You stared at the floor, trying not to let those memories overtake you. “Besides...I thought I told you. Chan’s betrayal hurt more cause I genuinely thought he cared about me.” You mumbled.

“Then again, I was stupid and naïve, so I don’t really have anyone else to blame but myself."

"Chan doesn't hate you..." 

"Really? I find that hard to believe." You raised an eyebrow. "If he’s a mature adult, I think he should come and try to talk to me about what he did. I'm not the one who did something wrong here, so I won't approach him. If he wants to apologize, he can."

You sighed as you pulled the menu over to yourself. "But, as long as he continues to be petty, you better believe I'll play his game." 

Felix sighed and nodded. "You know what...sure. Whatever." He made a mental note to himself, deciding to talk to Chan later. He couldn’t bear to stand on the sidelines any longer. He had to do something. 

"I'm staying at Minho’s until he leaves." You added, ripping Felix out of his thoughts. Humming, you examined the drinks menu he handed to you.

Felix shrugged, noting down the names of the drinks you circled. "Okay. Ooh, the old gang will all be here tonight!" He let himself smile, ignoring your icy demeanor. Looking up, he sighed as he noticed the scowl still present on your face. “Come on Y/n, lighten up! Let’s forget about Chan for a second, shall we? Forget about what he did to you. Forget about whether or not you want to forgive him. Just...treat him like you would any other normal person, okay?"

You groaned, standing up straight as you rubbed your forehead. Ugh, maybe you should listen to him. All these negative emotions were really exhausting, and you could definitely do without them. 

"Sure...fine. I can do that...I think." 

"Good girl.” He smiled proudly. “Now, let's do food..." 

***

Minho and Chan hadn't said a word to each other for the past hour. They communicated mainly through grunts and hand gestures, as they decorated the space in silence.

Between the mutual hate and jealousy, there wasn’t much room for a good relationship between them anymore. They were virtually strangers, and honestly would prefer to keep it that way. 

Chan kept glancing at Minho though, biting his lip. He inhaled, working up his courage to say something.

“So...how’s Y/n? Are you taking care of her?"

What kind of question was that? Minho frowned, nodding. "Uh...yeah?" 

Chan nodded, biting his lip as he looked at the decorations again. "Cool." He hated the way his heart was filled with dull hatred, anger and pain. A mass of negative emotions had settled in him over the years, and they definitely weren’t going to budge any time soon.

However...when he’d seen Minho again, some of the anger had melted away, kind of. The man was no longer the same person he’d been back then. More confident, yet also more vulnerable...he strangely reminded him of you, before you'd shattered your rosy view on life and opted for a more practical outlook.

There was an awkward silence as they continued their work. Minho felt guilt slam against his ribs as he caught a glimpse of Chan's face.

He looked void of hope. Calm, yet not in a good way. The kind of calm that came from losing everything.

There was a tiny part of him that wanted to make it all better for Chan. Tell the truth to you, and come clean. After all, Chan was once his closest friend. The two practically grew up together. Minho recalled how he’d go over to Chan’s every day after school, playing video games in his basement and generally horsing around. He smiled to himself as the memories came back to him. Memories of helping him steal his dad’s Playboy magazine...consuming an unhealthy amount of energy drinks and crisps as they hung out, content in each other’s company.

But then, he thought about you. No. He just couldn't lose you to Chan. Besides, he wasn’t even completely sure if the truth would make you forgive Chan. Maybe it would just turn you against Minho.

Chan was handsome...he was kind, muscular, loving. He would have no problem finding someone. 

Minho on the other hand...he'd never loved anyone the way he did you. The emotions were alien, and yet so exciting. It was confusing, really- he couldn’t tell if he liked these feelings or not. 

It wasn’t like he was stripping Chan of his soulmate or anything. It just wasn't a big deal. Right?

Then why was there so much fucking guilt, heavily weighing down his heart? Why was it impossible to breathe?

**

Despite having been thrown together last minute, the party was admittedly going well. The rest of the boys came soon after you and Minho, helping Felix finish off the preparations and transform the space.

Jisung of course, true to his nature, came ‘fashionably late’, after the rest of the guests had already arrived. His grand entrance lacked the raining confetti he’d initially wanted, but it was still cool. After all, he should have known putting Hyunjin in charge of it was a bad idea.

By now, the party was in full swing. Jisung loved being the centre of attention, and that little fact was made increasingly evident with the way he was dancing in the middle of the living room, a pink feather boa thrown around his shoulders. There were drinks being passed around everywhere, people dancing and having fun in every corner. it reminded you of the few college parties you'd gone to. 

College, safe to say, weren’t exactly the best years of your life. You didn't really have any friends, and Chan had been on your mind throughout it all. He was a barrier; blocking you from living your life as a normal person.

He sat in the back of your mind, a memory from high school that threatened to never leave you. To always stick with you, reminding you that you weren't worthy. You weren't deserving of his love...all you did was play the part of a tool, to help him get the girl he was really after. Was that really all you were good for?

It wasn’t Chan you were hung up on. The implications were what truly hurt. The thought that you wouldn’t ever be worth enough to anyone, the thought that love just didn’t exist for you.

You stood in the corner with Felix, sighing as you finished your third shot of the evening. Forget it. Focus on the party right now, the one you’re supposed to supervise. 

Nodding your head to the beat, you looked over the crowd. "Damn, Changbin's a really good DJ. We saved so much money on that one..." You eyed a drunken party goer almost knocking over the vase on the table, wincing. 

"This place is going to be a fucking mess by tonight, and I'm sure at least one thing will end up broken. It’s good we managed to save some money." You sighed, and Felix nodded. "Amen to that. It’ll be a nightmare to clean.'' Felix sighed, running his eyes over the floor which was already covered with a thin layer of trash. 

Minho suddenly slid next to the two of you, swallowing the remnants of the clear liquid in his glass as he grabbed your arm. His words were already slurred, and he’d definitely had a lot more drinks than you.

"Don't worry, we'll all help clean up! What are we here for?”

“Hm, does that mean you guys will be staying here overnight?”

Your eyes widened slightly. No. Minho noticed your expression, humming thoughtfully before shaking his head.

“Can’t. My cats. They don’t like being alone for too long." He took your hand in his. "Y/n and I will be here early tomorrow morning to clean up." 

You looked up at him thankfully, and then back at Felix. "Yeah." 

He eyed the two of you, gaze flitting from one to the other. "Okay...sure.”

The music was way too loud, the floor and walls thrumming to the beat. The three of you relaxed against the wall, collectively watching as the man Hyunjin was dancing with whispered something in his ear, a cheeky smile gracing his face. The bedroom eyes were clear to see, even from here.

You frowned, narrowing your eyes at the sight. "Oh god, please tell me he's not going to-" 

Hyunjin smirked, taking the man's hand and leading him off in the opposite direction, through the small crowd. 

Your eyes widened. "I swear to god, if it’s my room they’re going to be fucking in, I’ll-" 

Felix giggled as he patted your back sympathetically, Minho holding you back and chuckling. "Hey, hey- it's ok. I’m sure they won’t go all the way here, they’ll probably just make out in the bathroom and then go back to his place. Don’t worry." 

You groaned and slumped in Minho’s hold. "I guess Hyunjin does know better." 

Felix hummed in agreement, chortling. He looked over at the plates on the table that were gradually emptying, and sighed.

"Guys, wait here for a bit. Gotta refill those." 

You nodded as Felix left for the kitchen, turning back to Minho. Sighing, you leaned against the wall as you looked around the room properly. 

"You and Chan did a good job on the decorations." 

"It was mostly him." Minho exhaled. You pressed your lips together, shrugging. 

The room was dimly lit in a purple glow thanks to the lamp in the corner, as well as the plenty of stars that were hung from the ceilings. It was beautiful, and you were a little miffed that none of the guests were sober enough to truly appreciate it.

Jisung danced over to the two of you suddenly, shaking his neck and laughing loudly. "Hey you two!!” He wiggled his body to the music, grinning. “Come on guys, stop being wallflowers and come partaayyyy!" 

You chuckled and shook your head. "I don't know about-"

Jisung pouted at you, coming really close to you and placing his hands on your shoulders. "Pleeeaaase? For the birthday boy?" he asked, his eyes big and puppy like, his lips formed into a pout. 

You stared him down, but just couldn't resist as a smile broke out on your face. "Ugh, fine." 

"Good girl!" Jisung exclaimed drunkenly as Minho smirked, chuckling to himself as Jisung took his hand as well as yours, leading the two of you into the crowd. 

Jeongin was on the floor as well, surprisingly dancing up a storm as he grinned at you. Ah well. If Jeongin could, why not you? You might as well take advantage of the buzzing in your veins.

You immediately started dancing, moving your body to the beat and trying your best to look graceful and sexy. However, the alcohol was messing with your system, and it was difficult for you to coordinate your moments right. 

Minho laughed fondly at your failed attempts. It was adorable, how you danced like a baby giraffe learning how to walk. 

"Hey." He grabbed both of your arms, making you look at him. You looked into his eyes, a questioning look in them. 

Minho inhaled. He almost forgot what he was going to say. Fuck that, he almost even forgot his own name. Did he have to feel like this every single time you so much as glanced at him?

"I'll help...this is how you dance." He moved behind you, pressing your back to his chest lightly. Your breathing turned shaky as he started guiding your movements carefully.

"See...like that. Got it?" 

You nodded. "I think so..." You continued dancing, now looking a lot more sensual and less like a baby animal.

You got the hang of it soon enough. Minho was about to let go of you, but you held onto him before he could. 

“Dance with mee.” You giggled, pouting up at him. He smiled down at you, inhaling. 

“Okay~”

***

Chan watched from across the room as Minho and you danced, pressed to each other. He downed yet another shot, hoping the stinging alcohol would help him forget his worries and pain, at least just for a bit. 

Fuck envy. It was definitely the worst of them all. Despite the anger he had towards you, all he wanted to do was march onto that dance floor and pull you away from Minho. He wanted to be the one dancing with you instead.

He was so...so unsatisfied. The alcohol melted away his inhibitions, and now his emotions were all over the place, even more so than before.

Unsatisfied. That was it. He wasn't able to be productive, wasn't doing anything with his life merely because of his unfinished business with you. 

He knew he couldn’t blame you. You’d definitely come to know about the bet, probably why you’d left him. Although why Minho? God, the shock of seeing you two together that day was still fresh.

You were more than just a bet to him, and he wished you knew that. More than a blue book. 

You were...you. You were the prettiest, sweetest, most talented girl he’d ever met. 

You’d changed since the last time he saw you. More cynical. Rough, defensive. He didn't blame you. That...that was his fault. The reason why you were like that.

Despite that, he could still see traces of the old you. The you he’d fallen in love with. It had not gone anywhere, really. It was still inside you...somewhere.

Chan was starting to feel profound regret at the way he’d treated you. Was it stupid of him to think you’d still want him, after learning what he’d done to you? 

Chan sat up as he watched Minho's hand slide around your stomach, pulling you closer to him. 

Fuck, he almost wanted to throw up. He felt the anger course back into him, anger directed at you, at Minho, at his parents, everything.

That was it. He couldn't watch this, sitting in the corner drinking booze like some sort of pathetic idiot. 

No, you had to get a taste of your own medicine. 

Chan noticed the blonde in the crowd who had been eyeing him for ages. She was pretty enough, her features soft and smooth. On top of that, she was wearing possibly the shortest red dress he'd ever seen. Her fake tan was excessive, her cleavage abundant. 

In other words, she was perfect. Perfect for him to use as he put his drunken plan into action.

Chan stood up, finishing off his drink and setting the glass down. He made his way into the crowd, sidling up to the blonde. 

She smiled welcomingly, blinking up at him through her eyelashes. He grinned, glancing to the side as he moved closer to her. 

Hm, you hadn't noticed yet. He had to step it up. 

Placing his hands on her waist, he started moving her to the beat. Slowly he brought her closer to Minho and you, hoping that you would just look over for a second-

FInally! You noticed! A triumphant smirk formed on his face.

He wanted you to know that he didn’t need you. He wanted you to feel at least a little bit of the envy he was feeling. Again, it was the small victories that counted.

***

Your eyes wandered back to Minho, your throat feeling constricted as you tried your best to avoid the sight of Chan and the girl.

It was painful. So fucking painful. 

You still haven’t moved on from him, as much as you would have liked to. Watching him dance with her was leaving a bad taste in your mouth, your throat going dry.

They were all over each other. Her hands were around his shoulders and his were on her waist, their lips dangerously close as the racy music filled the room. 

You knew you were in a similar position with Minho at the moment, though. It was the alcohol blurring the lines, or you wouldn't be caught in such a compromising position with him, really. 

Still. This was different...right?

Fuck it, you just wanted an excuse to be angry at him. 

Chan somehow pulled the girl in closer, his hands slowly creeping down her waist and towards her ass. You swallowed and looked back at Minho before those hands could find their destination. Minho was looking at you with his eyebrow raised, his hands a little tighter on you.

"Everything okay, hm?" 

"Kinda..."

"Are you sure?" 

When you didn’t reply, Minho followed your gaze to Chan and the blonde, and then back to you. He put two and two together, sighing deeply.

"You deserve better, Y/n. You've got to move on." Minho swallowed. 

Yes, you did deserve better. Better than Chan, and better than him. You deserved someone who didn't keep any secrets from you, someone who would never even think of manipulating you. 

He despised himself for what he'd done. The way he behaved. As every second passed, the guilt grew. But how could he tell you? How could he even stand the chance of losing you? 

It was his fault. Everything was his fault. 

You noticed the sudden devastated expression on his face, frowning and cupping his cheeks to make him look at you. 

"Minho...are you okay?" 

"Mhm." Minho mumbled. "Uh...I need to go to the bathroom." His face was white as he let go of you swiftly, stumbling away as quickly as he could and disappearing in the crowd. 

You watched as he left, puzzled. Fuck, now you were alone. Just great.

You groaned under your breath, feeling Chan's gaze on you. Turning around slightly, you tried to avoid him, but unfortunately your eyes had already moved of their own accord.

His lips were on her neck, her back turned to you. However, he was looking right at you, an intoxicated smirk creeping on his face as he ran his eyes over you, all alone in the middle of a dancing crowd.

Biting your lip, you clenched your fists. You turned around, wading through the sweaty, grinding bodies, and made your way to the kitchen. You needed some peace and quiet. 

You filled up a glass of water, lifting it to your lips. The cool liquid ran down your throat, making you sigh in relief. It was so refreshing, a sharp contrast to the alcohol you’d been consuming all night.

You turned around, ready to go back into the room and find Minho when you slammed into a firm chest, blocking your exit.

Ugh. This couldn't be happening. 

"Move." 

"Shh.'' Chan shook his head, placing a finger under your chin and forcing you to look up at him. He caged you against the counter with his other arm, his eyes glazed over.

"Look. We both know- hic- that you and I have incomplete business-" 

You groaned, pushing him away slightly. "You're drunk, Chan." 

"I am not." He glared at you, placing his hand over his annoyingly broad chest, an offended look on his face. "Just a little tipsy, that's all..." 

You cringed, looking past him at the crowd. Ugh, where was Minho? Where was Felix? 

"Look at me..." 

You looked back at Chan, inhaling sharply. "What do you want?" 

Chan looked taken aback at your tone. He recovered slowly, stepping back and humming.

"I want…” He closed his eyes, sighing. “I want to know why you hate me." He said, his tone surprisingly even considering the amount of alcohol he’d knocked back.

"I- are you seriously asking me that question right now?" You asked incredulously. Seriously, how fucking dense could he be? 

"I am, Y/n. answer me." His slurred voice turned into a growl as he leaned in close. 

"I was nothing but nice to you, when no one else was...I loved you, I-"

You scoffed, interrupting him. "Oh wow, thank you so much.” You said sarcastically. “I think you and I both know all that was fake. You were fake, Chan- it didn't mean anything to you-" 

Chan slammed his hand on the counter next to you, making you flinch. 

"But it did! It fucking meant everything to me. It was the only thing that ever meant anything, and I'm sorry it had to happen the way it did, sorry I lost that damn boo-" 

"A simple sorry is not going to make me forgive you." You shook your head. "Get off me, Chan." 

"I don't want you to forgive me! For fuck's sakes, I just-" He breathed in, his voice turning soft as he ran a hand through his hair, his breathing shaky. 

"I just want to know why you chose him over me. He- he was worse-" 

"Huh?" His words were too slurred for you to recognize. "Look, Chan-" 

"Shut up." Chan shook his head, leaning in further. For a second, he scanned your eyes with his.

Fuck, he couldn’t believe he was about to do this. 

Inhaling softly, he smashed his lips against yours. 

It took you by complete surprise. Your heart felt like it was exploding- like a million, elephant sized butterflies were threatening to burst out. Shit, his lips were so fucking soft.

Was this actually happening?

It was. Insistent, yet gentle...his lips were all you could focus on. It felt overwhelmingly real, nothing like a dream. 

Warm. He’s so warm...

You resisted him for all of half a second, before melting into the kiss. Your hands snaked around his neck as he placed his under your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter. You were quickly getting yourself lost in him, the feeling of his lips on yours so familiar and yet so new. 

"Can't- can't get enough of you, don't think I ever will-" He mumbled incoherently against your mouth, his grip on you tight as he pressed against you.

Your mind was completely blank. There was no pride or anger in your head anymore, just Chan Chan Chan. His plump lips, moving against yours so passionately and swallowing all your breaths. It was partly due to the alcohol, yes- but also all the tension. Years of wondering if this moment would happen again.

And now it was.

“Chan-” You whispered into the kiss, tears pricking at your eyes.

This was a bad idea, it really was- you shouldn't be kissing him back like this. You were supposed to be mad at him- you were supposed to prove to him that you'd moved on. That you wouldn't let anyone use you like that ever again.

And yet here you were, right back at square 1. 

"Please, please..." he whispered, nipping at your already swollen lips with fervor as he dove right back in, caressing your back. 

His heart was pounding, unable to believe you were actually in his arms. Shit, he knew this was such a terrible idea. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

It was wrong, he knew it. Even if he believed he loved you more than Minho ever could, it was still wrong. You weren't his, and he had to learn to accept that. 

But...he needed one last kiss. One last kiss to let him know if you were a lost cause, or if you truly were meant to be his. He wanted to know. And so he deepened the kiss further, making you let out a small squeak that only made him want you more.

"Guys?" 

Chan pulled away, dropping you to the floor quickly as soon as he heard Seungmin's voice. 

Seungmin eyed the two of you, suspicion covering his face. You swallowed, subtly pulling down your skirt as you blinked, trying to adjust to the light that flooded your eyes. “Seung-”

Shit. Was that Minho, slumped against Seungmin’s body? 

He looked between the two of you, sighing as he saw your eyes on Minho. Minho’s eyes were closed, his forehead covered in sweat and his body limp. You moved forward, quickly rushing over to his side. “What happened?”

"Found him in the bathroom. He threw up, was crying on the floor. He didn’t tell me why...I’m assuming he’s just way too drunk." 

Minho looked up slowly, blinking and staring at you as he registered your face. "Y/n...." he stretched out an arm towards you, whining.

Seungmin groaned, Minho's weight clearly too much for him to support. "Y/n, please take him home. He needs rest. I'll explain to Jisung."

You couldn't look at Chan as you nodded. You carefully trained your stare on Minho as you went over to Seungmin, letting him transfer the man to you. 

"Min...you okay?"

He shook his head, gasping as he tried to take oxygen in. His eyes travelled past you, landing on a very remorseful Chan, his face covered in embarrassment.

You bit your lip, stroking his hair. “I’ll get him to the car. Tell Felix we’re going home, okay?” 

Seungmin nodded, heading back into the living room to find Felix after shooting a last glance at Chan.

You pressed down the urge to look back at him. Don’t do it, Y/n. You need to go home and re-evaluate your decision-making. Fuck, why didn’t you push him away?

You ignored the delightful tingling of your lips as you helped Minho out, most of the partiers completely oblivious as you dragged him out to the car, with a lot of difficulty.

You opened the passenger door with one hand, helping Minho in. He looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep, his mouth slightly open as he let out a soft snore. Chuckling to yourself, you patted his head before getting into the driver’s seat. You weren’t drunk enough to warrant calling a taxi, so you might as well save some money.

Tonight was...eventful, to say the least. 

Minho cracked one eye open slowly, watching as you drove. His eyes were burning, his throat aching. He hated feeling like this, he really did. He wished he hadn’t gotten this drunk. The alcohol and his sudden overflow of emotions did not mix well, and had ultimately resulted in him bent over the toilet bowl.

There was only one way to get rid of this fucking guilt. Minho wasn’t quite sure yet if he could go through with it, though.

There was a lot of thinking to do.

***

Chan stood near the counter. He couldn’t bring himself to move, his eyes unfocused as he replayed the scenes over and over in his head.

He couldn’t believe he’d done that. The one thing he’d told himself not to do. Don’t fall for her again. You got your heart broken once, why are you so eager to let it happen once more? 

Regret. It was on all three minds, tonight. 

[sunshineseung]

Dominant Stray Kids

Chan: simultaneously soft and rough. he’s the sweetest man in the world when you’re good! he’ll worship your body for hours and make you cum until you can’t anymore. he loves holding you close and praising you and making you feel as good as possible, even if it isn’t in a sexual way. however, when you’re bad... may god have mercy on our soul. chris is hard to make angry, and it takes a lot of rule breaking to make him genuinely mad, so when you get him past his breaking point, there’s no holding back. he loves using toys and retrains on you and deny you orgasm after orgasm until you’re a sobbing, begging mess. he dirty talks a lot, so expect a lot of pet names and teasing like “aw, does my pretty little slut want to cum? maybe they should have thought of that before they disobeyed me.” although the punishments can be rough, the aftercare is BEYOND AMAZING!!! actual king of aftercare. super reassuring! he’s constantly reminding you that he loves you, especially after a particularly hard punishment. you’re the best thing in his life, so he would never want to make you uncomfortable. the second you say the safe word, he’s running a bath, getting you water, cleaning you up, and taking care of you. he’s an absolute angel. 🐺 favorite names: daddy, master, sir, chris

Minho: you don’t even have to say a word for this man to run you into the ground. he’s the definition of a sadist, and although he can still be super caring, he can also be an absolute demon. expect whips, floggers, paddles, jfc even a chastity belt if you’re up for it. loves seeing his marks on you, it drives him insane! he wants everyone to know that you are his, his, and only his. very protective and possessive, especially around his other members. if one of the members get a little too friendly with you, he’s quick to lay a hand on your thigh and give them a dirty look. sometimes he likes to rail you in the dorm while the other members are in the living room so they can all hear how easily undone you become from his touch. he degrades you a lot, but he also likes to lace it with praise; “pretty slut” and “dumb baby” are his go-to names for you. he loves when you’re so fucked out that you can hardly speak. he isn’t that into orgasm denial, so I hope you’re ready to cum a lot, because he won’t stop until you say so. he loves being messy, so spitting on you and covering your face in spit or his cum is fair game. he’ll also make you dress up like a cat, and please don’t question why he likes it so much. within a month, you’ll own plenty of collars and ears and tails and pretty stockings and lingerie. he loves to give you gifts and make you happy. he takes aftercare very seriously, so expect him to gently massage lotion into all your bruises from his impact play. overall he’s rough and giving, so thank him often, or he’ll just punish you harder. 🐱 favorite names: master, mister, god, king, owner

Changbin: super loving, and he loves loving you!!! even if you’re bratty, he doesn’t like to punish you much other than a spanking every once and a while. he’d much rather have you be obedient so he can praise you and reward you. although he doesn’t like to punish you, he loves to edge you for hours and allow you to have one intense orgasm for him. he loves having his hands all over you, and vice versa. he’ll worship your body, especially your chest, and spend hours just kissing you and playing with your body. if you’re smaller than him, he will remind you every chance he gets. “my pretty little baby,” “so tiny and good for me,” “you look so cute under me.” he also likes to ask you for praise, like asking how he’s doing. of course, even if you can hardly talk, you’re quick to reassure him and praise him, which makes his head spin. he doesn’t set up too many rules, because he still likes to allow you to be free, but he is very hands-on and will cling to you 24/7, mostly in public or around his members. he loves showing you off to other people and just praising you even if you’re not physically with him. he loves spooning you and slowly fucking you, his big arms wrapped around you and holding you as close to him as possible. you’re all he thinks about, so expect him to be very needy, especially after long days. he’s so nice and gentle but he could be so strong and powerful, and he loves having a threatening aura to everyone else and looking super intimidating while you know he’s just a big softie. 🐰 favorite names: binnie, daddy, sweetheart, love

Hyunjin: so bullshit dom. he doesn’t dirty talk that much (shockingly), but his eyes tell you everything you need to know. He likes to save his voice for when he really needs to say something, which is usually degrading. “Stupid little cumdump. Can’t think of anything other than my cock, huh?” Super dramatic when you misbehave too, like “oh, was my baby too fucking needy to wait for me to get home? You’re gonna pay for that. Every orgasm you had while I was gone is gonna be how many times I cum down your pretty little throat.” He likes restraining you with harsh ropes, spitting on you, and smacking you, but he doesn’t like impact play with toys. He will however use a vibrator on you and edge you for ever until you realize you’re not cumming at all tonight. Just be good and he’ll reward you with... a harsh railing that he’d give you if he were punishing you... okay so maybe he likes brats lol, but he has very little patience, so when he’s ready, you better be ready too. Aftercare isn’t entirely minimal, but it’s usually just a shower where he washes you and takes care of any marks that might spring up. He likes to treat you like you’re less than him although in reality he thinks anything but. Calling him prince while he treats you like a whore is big for him. He also is somewhat into slavery, so prepare for him to get you a slave ring. 🦙 favorite names: master, mr. hwang, sir, prince, your highness, owner

Jisung: teasing dom! He’s another one that likes to edge you for hours, but he also likes to overstimulate you until you’re begging for him to cum so it can end (although he can go multiple rounds too). He’ll lightly degrade you, but mostly it’s praise. He spends a long time on foreplay, oral, and making out just to make sure you feel good. He loves marking you in ways only you and him can see, so he never leaves hickies on your neck. He also loves to baby you, especially if you’re younger or smaller than him. He treats you very well, but if he’s had a rough day, he really needs you to give him head and fuck him until he tells you to stop. He likes when you’re on top but he still has full control by holding your hips or telling you exactly what to do. Sometimes he just comes into your room, pulls out his cock, and expects you to suck him off even if he’s not hard. He doesn’t like to punish you, and he doesn’t set up rules either. He just likes telling you how good you taste or how pretty you look when you’re a wreck for him. He can get shy sometimes, so please reassure him that what he’s doing to you is okay, because he thinks he takes it too far a lot. He’s super loving and probably the softest dom out of the group. 🐹 favorite names: sung, babe, sweetheart, honey, sexy

Felix: I really don’t see lix as a dom but! If I must... Lix is very soft and giving, but he isn’t against getting rough with you. He can easily mix being really rough and being soft at the same time. He loves spanking you with paddles while calling you a good [whatever] and holding you close to him, probably with you sitting up on his lap. He loves whispering in your ear with his deep voice because it always makes you shiver and get insanely horny. He doesn’t punish, but he does like impact play. He really enjoys praising you as much as possible, so don’t expect a lot of degrading. He just wants to be nice to you! He likes dressing you up like a little fashion doll and fucking you in pretty clothes, especially lingerie or stockings. Felix likes being goofy during sex sometimes too! So if he messes up or does something awkward, expect to laugh it out and continue the scene. He likes pet play and age play id imagine, so he’ll buy you little kitty ears or bunny ears and a tail and a collar, but he might also buy you more childish clothes. He loves to take care of you even if you’re older than him, and he loves to cuddle you. As much as he loves cuddles, he also has a very high sex drive, so he gets hard within like a minute of spooning. Aftercare is a must for Felix, becuase honestly, he needs it too! He loves taking baths with you and holding you close. He’s literally the sweetest boy ever, so please let him treat you well. ��� favorite names: lixie, master, daddy, owner

Seungmin: woah, okay. okay. okay. Let me break it down for you: he’s such a strict and mean dom, but it’s fucking great. He isn’t my ult bias for nothing. He loves impact play, tying you up, teasing you, degrading you, punishing you, and just... dominating you. He loves feeling in power. He likes to plan during the day so he knows what he’s gonna do to you that night. He won’t even touch you, he’ll just talk to you and whisper to you while you’re tied up to make you weak, and then he’ll start to really play with you. He will tease you, whisper threats, and call you pet names all in public. Although he’s strict, he’s also very fair. If you’re good, he’ll reward you and do whatever you want to do. If you’re bad, you’re in for a long night, or even a long week of he doesn’t let you cum for that long. He has a massive collection of toys: vibrators, impact toys, plugs, costumes, pet accessories, everything! Just do exactly what he tells you to do, and he’s the nicest dom ever. Although, deep down, he likes brats. He likes punishing you and making you cry. He loves watching you unravel under him and go so far into sub space that you can’t talk. As much as he loves that, he is also very strict about safe words. He likes using colors (red, yellow, green) as the safe word, and he’ll often ask you “color?” just to check up. He also sets non-verbal safe “words”which is usually snapping or tapping. he’s researched a lot about being dominant because he wants you to have the best experience possible. For him, it’s all for you. He just wants you to be happy. 🐶 favorite names: daddy, master, sir, mister, king, owner

Jeongin: awww bb innie he’s so sweet... but sometimes he can be a lil mean ;( he’s super nice to and he loves rewarding you, but he can be a little selfish and tell you to suck him off when he’s a little tired or stressed. He isn’t a textbook definition of a dominant in any way, but the more you tell him about what you like, he’s very willing to try new things with you. He’s very scared of hurting you or injuring you, so don’t expect much impact play. He does like you treating him as his superior though because he’s babied so much by so many people around him. Being able to baby you and take care of you is a nice change of pace for him! He likes using you as a doll sometimes, and he orders you around a lot (totally with your consent of course!) and he also loves to make you unravel under him. He adores when you get needy and clingy so much, and even more than that, he loves when you beg for him to play with you. He could listen to you beg forever. When you get super whiny, he thinks it’s so cute and it melts his heart every time. On the other hand, when he gets really worked up, he can degrade you a little bit. He gets very impatient and just wants to cum so fucking bad, that sometimes degrading phrases sneak past his lips. “Ah, cmon my dumb little baby, make me cum.” But the second he finishes and realizes what he said, he appologizes and offers to make you feel better with a shower or bath or even just cuddles. He just think you’re his entire world, so he wants to take care of you as much as possible. 🦊 favorite names: jeonginnie, oppa, babe, baby

part 1 of this: submissive stray kids

[deniigi]

To carry on the MCU Peter anon: would you ever write a multiverse / blend where your Peter meets a more MCU Peter (actual MCU Peter not the fanon created one)? And/or initimable Peter meeting another version you’ve created?

Also, would you ever write a MJ (my beloved) POV fic?

Hey boo

So Question 1: I did a little piece with a MCU/Inimitable crossover here

It’s not quite the same, since it’s from the pov of MCU Peter.

The idea of young Inimitable Peter meeting someone who he could have so easily been if he’d not gotten involved with Team Red and had instead stuck closer to Stark would be an interesting thought, I must say. Not so interesting that I’d write it, but I’d def have half a drink and then a muse on the idea and how it would unfold.

For MJ, I have written some stuff from her POV! ( See just roll with it from the Dumpster Fires Verse)

I also wrote a terrifying piece a long ass time about about some non-NYC vigilantes trying to step in and overthrow the vigilante/Superpeople order of things by trying to goad Peter, Matt, Wade, etc into a fight. MJ narrates it and it’s sort of dark so I’m putting it under the cut here.

trigger warnings for violence (like Netflix DD and Punisher levels), violence against minors at school, and some pretty heavy injuries.

-------

“Michelle?” a voice she’d never heard in her life rasped into the classroom door. The smell of iron and smoke and god, blood—that was blood she was smelling—it was all suffocating.

“Michelle, honey, c’mon, sweetheart. We ain’t got time for being scared right now,” the voice said.

She’d never thought that she’d have to consider the fact that those were boots coming towards her, not sneakers, not shoes.

The butt of a rifle swung down into her view. Joined the boots right in front of her. Bones popped as the Punisher knelt down.

She knew him by the skull on his vest.

She knew him as a monster. Not a hero.

He held out a hand to her.

“I got you, baby girl,” he promised, “Ain’t no one gonna touch you.”

His hands were smeared in some kind of grease. Gun oil? Soot? It didn’t matter. He stayed crouching low. He didn’t wear a mask.

His nose was kind of crooked. And his eyes were deep set.

They were brown.

He said nothing, just held out his big, greasy hand.

She took it.

 --

 The Punisher’s grip was calloused and firm and he kept her behind him at all times. He was even bigger than she’d ever imagined; bigger than Mr. Murdock. Bigger than her dad. Maybe the around the same size and build as Wade.

He didn’t explain things; he used his hands to talk.

Stay behind me, said the press of his rough palm. Don’t let go, stay behind me.

Out front, the fingers said later, now curled over the tops of her own. Walk, walk fast. Out front.

Stay behind.

Out font.

Down.

He made her kneel with him and peeled off his vest. He didn’t give her a choice.

It was heavy. So heavy. He strapped it onto her as tight as it would go.

“Home stretch, darlin’,” he finally said with words, the noise of bullets and panic around them seemed quieter with him talking. She found that she didn’t want to leave him. “You go when I say, alright? You go when I say and you don’t look back, alright?”

No.

No, he would die if she left. He needed to wear the vest.

“Look at me, Michelle.” She did, through the tears. “You don’t look back.”

She nodded.

 --

 He said go.

She didn’t look back.

Not until Mr. Murdock was pulling her away, shouting at the top of his voice for an ambulance. She’d never heard that gravel in his tone before.

“Michelle, look at me,” Mr. Murdock told her, grabbing her cheeks and pulling her gaze away from the classroom where the Punisher was dying.

“Look at me, honey, look.”

There wasn’t much to look at, she couldn’t see his eyes through his mask.

“Are you hurt? Where are you hurt? Show me where you’re hurt.”

It didn’t matter, she couldn’t feel it anymore. The Punisher was dying in there, he needed his vest.

“Frank’s fine,” Mr. Murdock told her. He pulled her head back to face him, but he wasn’t looking at her at all. It was like he was looking down at the space between them. One of her hands felt warm on top, cold at the fingers. It didn’t want to cooperate as she pulled at the vest. “He’s fine, he’s gonna be fine. Fuck. Fuck. Put your arms around my neck, honey, c’mon. There you go, good girl. Alright, up you go. No, one more time. There you go, I got you. It’s okay, I got you.”

Mr. Murdock was stronger than he looked and he didn’t seem to mind that the vest was digging into his chest. His voice didn’t seem as loud, even though her head was right next to his throat.

She couldn’t tell if he was talking to her anymore.

 --

 She woke up.

There was white and blue and gray everywhere.

Her mom was burgundy. Her sweater was. Then she was tears, tears pouring out of her eyes, down over her lips. Her eyes weren’t burgundy, they were neon. Neon pink.

 --

 Her mom held her hand while the doctors explained to her that she’d have a lot of scarring, but she would be okay. She’d need some physical therapy to make the wrist do what it was supposed to again, but the bullet hadn’t caused irreparable damage.

The same for the wound in her ankle.

She’d be okay.

So why did she want to cry so bad?

 --

 She remembered why.

 --

 Peter was okay. He was in the room one over, attached to a lot of machines, but he was okay. His face wasn’t as clean as hers, the doctors and nurses hadn’t had the same kind of time to wash him down, they’d been busy trying to save his life.

His aunt had stepped out to go get things to wash his face for him. She was still wearing her scrubs. She worked in the ICU upstairs.

 --

 Ned was okay, he had a row of stitches from the bump in his wrist to his elbow. He told her tiredly that once he turned eighteen, he’d get a tattoo to cover the mark. Maybe laces, like sneaker, he told her.

Maybe stitches again, to remind himself what he’d almost lost.

 --

 Flash was okay. Abe was okay. Melanie and Gabriella were okay.

They were all okay.

Including the Punisher.

 --

 He came to see her in the hospital, he’d swiped a staff ID to do it. She thought that that was maybe overkill, but this was the man who’d offered his life for hers.

He was startled and went wide-eyed and stiff when she threw her arms around his broad chest and started crying. But he loosened up and told her that she shouldn’t be putting weight on her ankle. He let her hug him sitting on the bed instead.

He didn’t say things were okay like the others did. He grabbed her chin and shook it a little and said, “You’re fucking brave, girl. You’re so fucking brave.”

She didn’t believe him.

She’d just gone and hadn’t looked back.

“Sweetheart, there are times when you think, and times when you move. And both of them are different kinds of bravery,” he told her.

Different kinds of bravery.

“Do you mean courage?” she asked him.

He cocked his head. He had stitches of his own at the top of his cheekbone. Bruises from his temple to his chin.

“No, courage, that’s something else,” he said, “I’m talking about bravery.”

She didn’t understand. He said that he didn’t have a better way of explaining it. He smoothed her hair back and said that he was glad that she was alive and that she was going to get better.

He’d been the one who’d carried Peter out. He’d had to send her out first because he couldn’t carry both of them.

Mr. Murdock’s voice was raw and hoarse because he’d come running from the fire in the classroom next door and he’d been trying to find Peter. He was the only one who could hear Frank Castle through the fire and the bullets and the creak of the burning building. And Mr. Castle had told him that he couldn’t take both Peter and Michelle.

She remembered now.

Mr. Castle had been talking to himself the whole time they’d been running and hiding through that building. He’d been talking to himself, but he’d really been talking to Mr. Murdock who was trying to find a way in and a way out that wouldn’t get him killed.

There hadn’t been one, there were too many guns. The second she’d started running, Frank Castle had whistled, hard and loud and piercing and all the guns had turned on him.

She didn’t look back.

She thought that he hadn’t either.

“Thank you for saving us,” she told him.

He shook his head.

“Red’s your man, he called me screaming. Man never calls nobody in that tone of voice. You’d have thought y’all were his babies dying in there.”

Okay.

Okay, so was Mr. Murdock okay?

“Nah, girl. I don’t think he is. But I think he’ll get there.”

 --

 Mr. Murdock pretended like he was okay, but the way he wrapped his arms around both Michelle and Peter when they came to his office said that he was very much not. It wasn’t an awkward hug, even though there were two of them.

It was firm.

It was tight.

And Peter started crying and it was hard, really really hard not to join him.

Mr. Murdock let them go and pressed his forehead to Peter’s and said nothing. He just held Peter’s shoulder with one hand and smoothed a hand through his hair with the other. Peter wasn’t making words so much as he was making distressed sounds, but Matt understood him.

“He’s alright, Pete,” he said. “He’s alright.”

Who?

 --

 Wade was fine, somehow. There wasn’t a bullet hole in him. There wasn’t a scratch on him, he claimed, trying to smile and make Peter stop sobbing his heart out.

Matt told him that he wasn’t fucking helping and to just be fucking honest for once in his goddamn life.

Matt’s hands shook a little at his sides. His cuticles were still stained gray from the soot.

Wade looked from him to Peter a little helplessly and then at Michelle and he sobered. He held out an arm for her to come closer.

He was big, too. His ribs felt different from Mr. Castle’s.

“Where’s Ned?” he asked, pressing a hand on the back of Peter’s head to encourage him to direct his upset into his chest.

Ned was at home. Ned’s mom and dad were too upset to let him out of their sight for now.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Wade said. He didn’t hug her as tight as Matt had, he more laid a heavy arm across her shoulders and pulled a bit.

 --

 They weren’t allowed to go back to school. The whole campus was closed, there’d been significant damage to the south side and there were too many photos and crime scenes that needed to be documented.

Peter’s wounds were already mostly healed, while hers ached and burned with every movement.

He apologized for not getting to the room she’d been in faster.

That was some dumbass shit, that was.

“Who did it?” she asked him.

Peter set his jaw.

“We don’t know. Wade and Mr. Castle said they’re finding out. They aren’t letting me or Matt in on it.”

What did that mean?

“I think it means that it’s something bigger than us.”

And what did that mean?

“Uh, maybe bigger isn’t the right word. Lower.”

Lower. Like?

“Someone underground. Deeper in than me and Double D. We’re—we’re mostly surface level. Wade and Mr. Castle, they’re deep under there.”

“Were they trying to kill you, Peter?” she asked him.

He took a long shaky breath.

“I really hope not.”

 ---

 They weren’t trying to kill Peter, Mr. Murdock eventually told them, having had them come to his home for this news. He had them sit on his faux leather couch as he said this.

He was trying to say something without words, Michelle thought.

She thought she was reading it right.

It was personal. This was personal.

“Were they trying to kill you, Matt?” she asked. He shook his head.

No.

They weren’t trying to kill anyone, they’d been trying to draw them out. As many of them as possible.

“They’re taking stock of us,” Matt said to his fists. His knuckles never seemed to heal. “Making lists. They knew a school would bring everyone out and we fell for it like fucking chumps.”

What did that mean?

“Means there’s something big brewing, and I want nothing to do with it.”

That’s not what his knuckles said.

“Peter,” Matt said, “Whoever they are, they’re going to target you. You’re young, that makes you an easy mark. Do not engage, do you understand?”

Peter understood.

 ---

 Peter was hurt. He was hurt every day over the next few weeks. He had bullet wounds and knife wounds and it got to the point where, even after school reopened, he didn’t come back. It wasn’t suspicious, a lot of kids didn’t. Their parents were still terrified, maybe looking into other academies.

Peter was just sleeping. He had to sleep to heal and he had to heal because the second he set foot out the door there was someone there waiting for him and he couldn’t engage. He just had to take it. Suit or no suit.

MJ would have hit back by now, she was amazed that he hadn’t.

“The second I hit back, they’ll take that as permission,” Peter told her quietly at his desk in his room. May had bandaged his arm for him. She wasn’t concerned about school, she didn’t want Peter to even leave the house.

“Permission to do what?” she asked.

“To engage,” Peter said.

What did that mean, though?

“They’ll kill me.”

He couldn’t know that. He couldn’t—

“They don’t care who I am. It’ll be a message. As soon as I hit back, that makes whatever happens next fair game, so I can’t do anything.”

“Can’t Stark help you?” she asked. He sighed and looked at his bandaged wrist.

“If it gets any worse, he and May said I’ll stay with him for a while. But they’ll just move onto the next guy, and then the next guy, until someone engages. We can’t avoid them forever.”

‘We,’ Peter said. That meant that this was beyond him. This was everyone on that list those guys had shot her, stabbed Ned, scared everyone to make. The list that had set their school on fire.

 ---

It got worse.

Peter didn’t come to school.

He couldn’t breathe very well. He slept even more, but not at home. He slept at Stark Tower, where Tony Stark could guard him, because no one else could at the minute.

 ---

 It got worse because they started picking on Matt.

Matt as Mr. Murdock most certainly would not have engaged, but Matt as Matt was struggling. He was very obviously struggling.

Just sit back and take it, was what he had to do. Unlike Peter, who slept and had somewhere to go when things got too bad, Matt didn’t heal and Matt didn’t have anyone to lean on.

He stopped showing up to work.

Neither Foggy or Karen said anything about it. They carried on with the cases and the work and the filing as if nothing was wrong, as if nothing happened. As if they weren’t both suffocating, trying to carry their friend’s pain with their own.

Michelle went to see him and Foggy told her to be as quiet as she could be.

He slept with a broken arm laid up on his chest. He shivered in his sleep. His knuckles weren’t bruised, but his neck was and he didn’t acknowledge anyone who spoke to him.

There was a woman there with him, she was his sister, MJ remembered her. Elektra was watching him with silent, stoic fury in her eyes. It showed nowhere else on her.

“She’s protecting him,” Foggy explained as he made them all tea. “Well, maybe not protecting, but guarding him so he feels like he can sleep.”

There wasn’t anything to say to that, not when Spiderman and Daredevil could only rest in unconsciousness.

“Why are they doing this?” she asked him. Foggy sighed and set the kettle down.

“Because they’re cruel and they’re jealous and they think that this will get them respect,” he said.

Respect.

Psh.

All it did was make her mad.

“If you show them that you’re angry, Michelle, that’s as good as engaging. We can’t let them know that they’re getting to any of us.”

This was bullshit.

 ---

 Bullshit because Matt went to get groceries and didn’t come home and Wade had to go find him. They wouldn’t let Michelle see him, but she heard his sister screaming. She screamed at anyone who touched him, swore that she’d put the lights out of the next person who tried.

Foggy didn’t stop her.

Matt didn’t say anything.

He didn’t come to work and Foggy kept his office door closed.

Karen told Michelle that Elektra had taken Matt somewhere with her, where he would be safe. He wasn’t in Hell’s Kitchen. Elektra wouldn’t say where they’d gone, but she’d sent Foggy pictures so that he knew Matt was safe.

 ---

 It was bullshit because they were too scared to fuck with Wade or Castle, so instead they attacked Hawkeye the younger and Michelle heard through Wade that Hawkguy had nearly exploded in his anger. He couldn’t do anything, of course he couldn’t, that was how this game worked.

But he’d swapped his easy-going persona for the one he used when he worked with the Black Widow.

Wade said it was eerie to see him so quiet and focused. Locked onto his target.

The people trying to pick a fight, well, they were scared of Hawkeye.

 ---

 Not for long. They went in on both of Hawkeyes at the same time and soon Hawkeye the elder reached breaking point and called in the Widow so that he and his partner could get two minutes of peace. Just two.

 ---

 It was interesting how the second the Widow got involved, everything went topsy turvy.

Michelle had passed by the place where Wade had told her the Widow was standing guard and saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Then she realized that whoever these guys were, they were really, really scared of the Widow.

Not so high and mighty now, huh, boys?

They abandoned the Hawkeyes and went after Jessica Jones.

 ---

 It went on and on like this for two, three, maybe even four weeks. People took as much as they could. They picked themselves up. Some limped into the offices of Nelson, Murdock and Page. Some limped, watched carefully by people, in the street.

They were stopped at all hours by guys in plain clothes who struck out without warning. Threw fists. Feet. Spat on people. And instead of fighting back, local bodies threw them off and ran away. Avoided confrontation. Put walls and doors and fences between themselves and the others as much as they could.

It was, in a way, amazing.

The level of restraint was super human.

 ---

 Then the new kids got cocky and shoved the Winter Soldier.

They were in for a lesson.

Michelle saw the conflict on the news. Five guys throwing themselves at Bucky Barnes, who was trying to buy a bottle of whiskey in peace.

He ignored them, counted out exact change.

He walked right through their group on the way out the door and they parted around him, then followed him out of the convenience store.

Camera phone footage showed him walking home, being heckled by these creeps. A few blocks, presumably, from his home he stopped walking and the gang of people drew in close around him.

And then they all leapt back.

The Winter Soldier wasn’t taking their shit, he’d apparently decided. Loud enough to be heard from the cameraman’s place across the street, he shouted, “Y’all have one more chance to get the fuck out of my way.”

Let no one say he didn’t warn them.

They went down hard and they went down fast and they all went down within a minute of each other.

Bucky Barnes held a guy by his throat and told them to call their motherfucking leader, he wanted to have a chat.

It was the beginning of the end.

 ---

 Do not engage went right out the window and MJ woke up to her phone sending her six thousand alerts not to take such-and-such road or to approach such-and-such area.

The news showed her Peter slamming his fist into a man’s face like he was born to do it.

The Man in the Mask was out in broad daylight, stalking towards those people who were suddenly trying to escape him. He picked them up and dropped them without so much as breaking the rhythm of his pace.

Ironman beat the shit out of twelve people in the company courtyard.

Hawkeye had switched his bow for a rifle.

The general advice from all city personnel was to stay the fuck inside.

This was war.

 ---

 And then it was over.

And everything was cleaned up and bodies were carted off if they were found.

Peter arrived to school.

Matt reappeared in his office.

They carried on like nothing had happened. But there was something about the aftermath of silence that made the day of brutality so much more violent.

Neither of them were smiling. They were cold, thawing slowly.

Michelle thought of all the things they weren’t saying.

She thought she heard their combined bodies whisper, this is my city. This is our city. Get with it or go the fuck home.

She didn’t know if it made her feel better, but it certainly made her feel safe.

 --------

[mrvltwimagines]

You Deserve Better

SPENCER REID X READER

SUMMARY: Most coping mechanisms weren’t that healthy, you just couldn’t seem to give yours up.

WARNINGS: Self-Harm, Self-Deprecation, Insecurities/Low Self-Esteem

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

REQUESTED PROMPT: Hey. I was wondering if i could request Spencer Reid x Reader where reader struggles with self harm (cutting mostly) and self esteem issues, half convinced he should leave them for someone more mentally stable? - i changed it up a bit so it’s not that he should leave them, but more so go after someone “better”

You groaned at the sound of your phone ringing, pulling you out of your deep sleep and waking you up in your room that was still only lit by moonlight. 

“This is y/n,” you answered your phone without looking at the caller id.

“Good morning, or rather good night, whatever - it’s three am, either will work,” the bright voice of Garcia sounded out over the speaker. You couldn’t help the chuckle that left your mouth.

“Do we have a case?” you ask, getting her back on track.

“Unfortunately so, can you get into the office soon?” she asks.

“Yeah, i’ll be there in twenty minutes or so,” and with that you both said your goodbyes and you were quickly getting out of bed. 

With your first initial stretch you flinched at the pain that spread through your arm. You lightly soothed the ache you felt on your wrist, refusing to pull up your long sleeve and look at the horrible work you did to yourself last night.

You loved your job. You couldn’t imagine yourself doing anything else, but most of the cases were hard on your mental health. It made it all that much harder that while you’re an official part of the team, you still feel less intelligent and needed as everyone else. They never said anything to indicate that you could be better, or that you were even a bad team member to begin with, it just sat badly with you that you didn’t know as much as Spencer did (although, no one does) and that you weren’t able to piece things together quite as quickly as everyone else on the team. You were the youngest one, and also the newest one having joined just under two years ago. You were always learning and picking up skills to better your ideologies and techniques to catching serial killers, but in your head you could do better.

You knew there were better ways to cope with your stress and feelings of incompetence than taking it out on your own skin with a razor, but it’s what you’ve been doing for years and with your job it was the quickest way to feel any type of peace. 

Luckily for you, your job was also one that made you forget your own emotions and issues, at least during the time of working the cases. There wasn’t much time to dwell on your own problems when you were busy trying to find a murderer. At least your job can remind you that there is worse in the world than the hatred you hold for yourself.

In just under thirty minutes you were dressed, packed and walking into the conference room just as J.J. showed up too, the whole team ready to get a move on with the case. You made eye contact with Spencer and he sent you a gentle smile as you took your usual seat in between him and Rossi.

“Alright team, it’s a doozy,” Garcia chirps, filling us in on the details of the case we were about to set out on. After reading through the files and seeing the pictures, it was a quick “wheels up in thirty” from Hotch that lead everyone out of the conference room to do whatever they needed to do or gather before heading off to the jet. 

“So, did you guys plan on matching, or is that just a soulmate thing?” Derek asked as he drank his coffee and walked backwards in front of you and Spencer leaving the conference room at the same time. You looked at Spencer’s outfit seeing his purple attire and couldn’t help the smile from forming on your face seeing you were wearing a long sleeve shirt about the same shade as his.

“Maybe I felt it in my soul that he was going to wear that so I chose my purple shirt,” you quipped, rolling your eyes at Derek as he winked and turned back around to head to his desk and grab his bag. 

“So how was your day off?” Spence began, “Did you do anything fun?”

Your mind flashed back to the last twenty-four hours, thinking about how you spent it. The burning on your arm became more apparent and you could feel your face flush at the secret you were hiding from him. The two of you were closest on the team. It might have helped that he was only a few years older than you, or that you had the same views on everything, or that you were able to understand a lot of what he says or even just his nerdy jokes. You loved being around Spencer, and if you could have it your way you two would be more than just friends. Within the few seconds after his question the air was silent and you felt yourself go through a range of all your emotions. 

“It was fine. I just laid around, read some books, watched some tv. The usual,” you shrugged, removing your eye line from his, feeling as if he was able to see inside your mind and see the true things you actually did. Like standing in front of your mirror pointing out all the flaws on your body, or working out until you felt like you were going to faint, or not so carefully carving lines into your own flesh. You were a mess, and you knew that, but the less the team knows the better. You were terrified you’d be kicked off the team, and not only did that mean losing your dream job, but also losing the chance to be working alongside the only man you’ve ever felt even the tiniest bit of love for. 

“What about you, did you do anything fun?” you asked, not wanting to give him the chance to question you more about yourself. As you both grabbed your bags and all the way to car that was driving you to the jet he told you about the little things he did, and all the things he learned and read up on. One thing was for sure, you never felt any true resentment towards how knowledgable Spencer was. If anything you were just always astounded that someone could retain as much information as he does. You knew Spencer was an impossible standard to hold yourself to considering he was an actual genius, you just wish you had something as astounding as his intelligence that others looked to you for. Instead you were just the young, average agent on the team. 

You made small chat with the others as you boarded the jet, and after Garcia hopped on the cam to tell us a little more information as we bounced ideas off of each other, we were left to be on our own for an hour long flight. You and Spencer always sat with each other, but just a few minutes into our own personal time he got up and went across the jet to sit with J.J. to talk to her about something. As much as you just wanted to look out the window and space out, you couldn’t take your eyes away from their interaction and see how hard he smiles when he’s with her. It was dumb to think anything of it considering she has Will and Henry so you knew their interactions weren’t romantically intwined, but you still couldn’t help from floating over her frame and seeing all that you were not. You weren’t skinny like her. You didn’t have a beautiful face, and beautiful hair to frame it. You were average, and you hated that.

You quickly stood up and made your way into the bathroom, locking the door and pressing your forehead against it with a big sigh. All you wanted at the moment was your razor, but you knew the only one you had was buried deep in your bag that was still out where you were sitting. You felt ashamed with yourself that you even felt it was necessary considering all that you did last night, but you were hurting. Without thinking, you pulled your sleeve up, wincing at both the sight of your wrist and the feeling of your shirt sleeve running along the lines. You scratched a bit, letting out a sigh of relief when you felt and saw some of the scabs come undone, leaving small beads of blood to sit on your skin. You felt satisfied enough to grab a wet paper towel and clean yourself up some before pulling your sleeve back down and leaving the bathroom again. 

When you got back out, Spencer was back in his seat and awaiting your arrival. 

“You feeling okay? You look a little pale,” he acknowledged, tilting his head a bit as he inspected you. You habitually connected your hands behind your back as you nodded, telling him you just feel a little nauseous from having woken up so early and not ingesting anything other than coffee. You sat back down next to him, not hesitating to close your eyes and lean on his shoulder. You didn’t see it, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking down at you and smiling. You had your feet tucked underneath you, and your arms resting on your lap. 

He would’ve usually felt a bit creepy looking at you so closely, but the sight of the tiniest bit of blood seeping through your shirt cause his brows to furrow and his attention to be stuck on it.

“Hey y/n?” he whispers, gently nudging you with his shoulder enough for you to groggily open your eyes back up. You looked up at him, concern written all over his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, sitting yourself up fully so you can take in his entire face. He seemed to be battling with himself on what to say, and for a second you held your breath thinking he was going to say something along the lines of professing his feelings for you, but instead he just offered a “never mind” and shook his head before looking back down to the files on his lap. You couldn’t hide the disappointment from you face, so you simply turned your head the other way and settled in for a short nap, this time not wanting to touch him. 

Throughout the rest of the jet ride, and all the way to the police station Spencer couldn’t get his mind off of your shirt sleeve. He didn’t know whether it was his business to even question you about it, so he backed off, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to just forget about it. 

He watched you while you worked. He couldn’t help it. He did it out of both concern and admiration. He considered you two best-friends. You had never judged him or made fun of the little things he knows. Instead you always laughed at his jokes or asked him more about a topic if you didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. You had been there for him both inside of work and outside of work, helping him cope with tougher cases, and also helping him cope with his sick mother. You know just about everything in his life and have never showed an ounce of judgement, so he’s trying to do the same, but it deems harder the more he sees the signs. You’re constantly pulling on your sleeves, as if they’ve somehow rolled up your arms on their own. Sometimes you’ll squeeze anywhere between your wrist and elbow and display a look of relief. If he looked closely enough, he could still see the little droplet of blood that he saw earlier, but he determined that if there was anything wrong going on with you, you’d tell him. Right?

You hadn’t missed how Spencer was watching you more than usual. During cases you’re used to working closely considering you bounce off of each other so well, but he doesn’t usually spend so much time looking at you when you’re not even talking. Your mind goes on overdrive, your insecurities settling in. While in one sense all you want is for him to see you, like really see you in a romantic way, in another all you wanted was for him to never look at you that way because then he’ll see your flaws. He’ll see your disproportionate body or your anything but clear skin. You hated to think he’d see you how you see yourself. So when you caught him looking at you for the millionth time that day, you escaped to the bathroom to look at yourself. Your reflection showed nothing out of the ordinary. Your clothes hid whats underneath relatively well, and your makeup hadn’t grown splotchy or anything. You looked how you usually did when you were in your professional setting, so you really can’t pinpoint what the hell he could be looking or thinking when looking at you, but it sure as hell made you uneasy. 

The rest of the day working on the case felt like it went on forever, and then the second day, but finally on the third day you were able to locate and arrest the unsub, saving yet another person from being killed. You loved that part of your job, and you tried to embrace the days you get to the unsub before they’re able to kill another innocent person. 

You reminisced on the flight home, and felt a feeling of personal victory. Due to rooming with Prentiss, you didn’t have enough privacy to do anything harmful to yourself, but the entire trip was a bit of a success in the sense that you didn’t feel the need to bring your blade out. 

You sat in your usual spot next to Spencer on the flight and spaced out as you looked out the window. Your focus was disturbed at the feeling of his elbow nudging you. 

“Would you want to have a movie night tonight? I think i’m finally down to watch that one cheesy vampire movie that you’re always going on about,” he suggested. Your eyes widened as you let out a small squeal, sending a small but gentle clap to his arm.

“Yes! I’d love that! It’s really bad and cheesy, but i love it and definitely want to experience making fun of it with you,” you laughed, your cheeks burning red. You knew he had an eidetic memory, but the fact that he wants to spend time with you and watch a movie that you’ve only talked about wanting to watch with him over the span of months made you feel a bit warm inside. You both agreed on going to your apartment right after you get your reports turned into Hotch just in time for the jet to land and you all to head back to the office. 

Time flew and before you know it you were back at your apartment, doing a quick clean of the small messes you created before leaving for the case as you waited for Spencer to show up with the Chinese food he said he’d grab on the way over. You went into your closet, opting to change into a pajama shirt and shorts before turning to your mirror and grimacing. You’ve worn pajamas exactly like this in front of Spencer many of times, but tonight just felt different. You looked bigger than usual, and you couldn’t stop yourself from turning to the side. Did you somehow get fatter over just a few days away?

The sound of knock at the door and it opening alerted you that Spencer was here.

“Hello!” he calls out just as you walk out of your bedroom, trying to forget your previous thoughts. 

“Sorry i took so long, i decided to stop at home real quick to put on comfier clothes,” he commented while setting down and spreading out all the food on the coffee table without looking your way. You gnawed on your lip, thinking about how you weren’t hungry anymore but leaving it be and forcing yourself to be in the mood for Chinese for the sake of not wanting to seem rude.

“It’s fine! Thank you again for picking up dinner,” you mumbled out, walking closer to him and taking a seat on the couch. He didn’t hesitate to sit down right next to you and put his arm on the back of the cushion behind you. 

“So, you have the movie ready?” He asks while looking down at you. Your mind was on overdrive at how close he was and how you could smell his cologne coming off of him. You could feel the warmth of his side on your own and in that moment all you wanted to do was cuddle into him, but you doubt he would want that. 

You cleared your throat, declaring that it was ready, and you quickly leaned forward to grab the remote and hit play. The beginning scenes to Twilight began to play, and Spencer leaned forward with you to begin plating his own plate full of chicken, noodles and rice. You watched to see how much he put on his plate, envious that a man his size could eat so much and not gain any weight. You plated your own, only taking a little of each entree he got, not wanting to seem ungrateful. He didn’t seem to notice, and you both poured all your attention into the movie.

He watched you plate as little as you could of each entree, and a frown settled on his face. He wouldn’t say you’re a big eater, but he knows for a fact that you would usually plate more than you had. He ignored it this once, assuming you just weren’t that hungry and it wasn’t his place to comment on what you eat. He was just happy to be as close to you as he was, and embraced the warmth he felt radiating off of you. 

All throughout the movie, his mind kept floating back to him watching you over the last case. You definitely had something bothering you, and he took notice that you wore long sleeved shirts every day even though the case was in Louisiana in the middle of spring, so it was at the very least short sleeve weather. Even now you opted for a long sleeve pajama shirt.

“Hey y/n, can i ask you something?” Spencer spoke up in a quieter scene of the movie. You took your eyes off of the screen and looked towards him, your brow furrowing a bit. He sighed, and leant forward to grab the remote and pause the movie entirely. He lifted one of his legs up on the couch to face you more, leaving you with a slight tint to your cheeks at even more of his body touching yours.

“I don’t want to overstep my boundaries, but i consider you my best friend so at this point i feel like there aren’t many boundaries,” he started to ramble, as you just nod at his words. He paused to look at your face, and in that moment you felt a bit exposed.

“I’ve just noticed some habits of yours that concern me a bit?” he stated, but it sounded more like a question. Your heart rate picked up, and your eyes grew wide. This conversation could go so many ways, and to be honest you didn’t think there was any one way you wanted it to go. He took your silence as a go to continue what he was saying, even though he could tell by your facial expression that you were a bit uncomfortable. He just wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he didn’t at least question you about it.

“Can i look at your wrists?” he bluntly asks. You’re taken aback, your entire body physically flinching away at that question, and your eyes grow wider than before. You didn’t know what to say, or if you could even say anything that wouldn’t make you seem guiltier than actually showing him your wrists. You kept opening and closing your mouth like a fish stuck on dry land, and you could tell by the look on Spence’s face that he already knew the truth behind the habits he was taking notice of. Your eyes welled up a bit, before simply laying your hands in his lap and looking away from him. He knew what you meant and you shuddered at the feeling of him rolling your sleeves up. 

You were embarrassed. You were ashamed. You were really fucking scared. What if he thinks less of you now? What if he reports you to Hotch? What if he’s disgusted by you and this ruins everything? Your mind was going crazy, and he still hadn’t said anything even though you know he’s had plenty of time to take in the sight of your cut up wrists. 

“Oh y/n,” he sighs, and the sound of his voice gets you to look at him again. He didn’t hold judgement or pity in his features, simply just concern and something else that you couldn’t pinpoint.

“I know it’s a stupid habit and that i shouldn’t do it. But it helps and no one’s found out so far,” you shrug, a few of you tears falling before you grab your wrist out of his grip to wipe them away. You felt more guilt than sadness building up inside of you, along with a large amount of insecurity. 

“Well i just did, so what are we going to do about that?” He asks. you shrug again, looking away from his face and down to your exposed arms, quickly pulling your sleeves back down.

“How about you tell me why you do it? Or things that make you feel like that’s your last resort.”

You look back up to him, so badly wanting to tell him everything that goes through your mind, but if him finding out about your self harm isn't enough to drastically change your friendship, telling him all about your insecurities sure as hell would.

“I don’t know, Spence. I don’t want to put all of this on you and have it ruin our friendship,” you whispered out, using your sleeve to wipe another escaping tear. 

“I’m telling you right now that nothing you say could change the love i have for you, i can promise you that,” his words struck you. You both have said you love each other, it comes with being best-friends and living a dangerous life where you never know where the next moment could bring you, but this confession of love felt different and made your already faster heart beat raise a bit more.

“I...” you pause, not knowing how to form your thoughts into sentences, “I just get frustrated about- i get upset about everything about myself,” you start off. You looked at him semi expecting him to have something to say but instead he just nods, like to indicate for you to keep speaking. You let out an exasperated sigh, almost in disbelief that you were even in this situation and having this conversation.

“I’m not good enough for you,” you spit out, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth as you just stared at him. His brows furrowed and you knew he was thinking deeply about your confession.

“I’m so in love with you, Spence. I love how smart you are and how you can answer any of my questions. I love the tangents you go on, and how you’re still able to be charming and funny. But you’re also crazy attractive and i feel beyond selfish to even think i deserve to be with someone like you. I’m so average. I’m not skinny, i’m not that pretty, i have fucking cuts lining my entire arm. The only good thing i’ve accomplished in life is graduating college and landing a spot in the team, but even then i feel like i don’t deserve my spot when there are so many others who are smarter and quicker to do my job better than me,” you spoke. Your words came out without you making the connection between your brain and mouth, and by the end of it you were embarrassed. You let yourself say too much, and you were worried this would be where Spencer would want to leave.

“I never mean it lightly when i say I love you, you know that right? Both within the team and outside of it, i’ve only said I love you to five or so people, and never have i meant them like i do for you,” he started off, grabbing your hands back from you so you were forced to face him and look him in the eyes, “You’re fucking beautiful, scars and all, i don’t care about them. Well, i do because i hate how they got there and i want to help that stop, but i don’t care that you have them. I don’t look at you and see the imperfections that only you seem to notice. I see my best friend that’s helped me through so much. I see a sweet, intelligent, beautiful person who treats me well and brings me so much comfort. I think you’re a badass agent, and i know the team would agree with me on that, and hopefully i can help you see that, but it’s fine if you don’t see any of this right now because now i get to stay by your side and help expose the truth about you to yourself.” he spoke. you nodded throughout everything he was saying, taking every word in and finding so much comfort in everything.

“okay,” you mumbled out. 

“Okay, you’ll let me?” He questioned, “You’ll let me stay by your side?” 

“Of course, Spence. I love you, and i’m so grateful for you,” at that point you didn’t know what else to say. You were surprised to hear him say so much good about you, but you knew Spencer didn’t lie. He found telling the truth was always the best and easiest option, it was something he took pride in. 

The rest of the night was spent with him actually physically not leaving your side. After a bit more talking, he unpaused the movie and you joked throughout the rest of it with your head leaning on his chest while he combed through your hair with his fingers. You felt the ball of guilt leave your system and instead felt your body flood with relief. He knew your secrets and he was still here. You should’ve never doubted him, and you had wished you confided in him earlier, but now that you have you feel like you have a second chance. It’s been a long time since you’ve had a constant someone in your life, and now having the man that you love know your deepest secrets, things are bound to look up.