#angst appreciation day 2017

[lavenderspence]

To Lean On You | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content Warning: post prison!Spencer, mentions of addiction, prison talk (typical for the prison arc), gun use, mentions of death, suggestive themes, idiots in love, angst, so much angst.

Word Count: 8.6K

Summary: You and Spencer wasted years, truths hidden, feelings uncertain, and a fear of the unrequited. It took ten weeks, isolated, silent, and broken, for the realization to strike. There was no life, if you didn’t have each other. 

A/N: It’s finally here! Wow, writing this was a wild ride, honestly. Over a month of writing, blood, sweat, and tears poured over it (there were in fact some tears). This is also the first thing I’ve written in 3 years and I'm very happy to finally be out of my slump. It's probably the angstiest thing I've written ever, and at the same time, I feel like it's not the greatest, but deep down, I still love it, haha. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. And, enjoy and any feedback is appreciated. <3

Here are some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to get into the mood:

Hearts by Jessie Ware

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift

Lost Without You by Freya Ridings

In This Shirt by The Irresponssibles

masterlist

79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.

70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail. 70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.

65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started. 

Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.

March 4th, 2017

It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds. 

Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost. 

Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain. 

Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go. 

Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.

“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”

You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair. 

You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.  

“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true. 

Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.

“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list. 

“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.

“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone. 

“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment. 

You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”  

For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?” 

“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.

"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.

All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him. 

“Emily-” she cut you off.

“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.

“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest. 

As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.

“-to be in the courthouse in one.” You snapped out of your thoughts, only catching the end of the sentence, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired, and it had little to do with the fact that you had been up all night, going over all the evidence with the team and tracing Lindsey Vaughan’s steps to a T in an attempt to exonerate Spencer and finally bring him home. 

You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. You’d been up for more than 24 hours now, but then you hadn’t been sleeping all that well to begin with. Every single night was spent wondering how Spencer was doing, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw him in that cell in Mexico. 

His eyes were red, high out of his mind, barely coherent, dirty, and injured - a far cry from the person you were used to seeing every single day - energetic, passionate, and brilliant. After 12 years, if there was one image you wished to erase from your memory, it was this one. Not all the blood you’ve seen spilled, every victim, be it men, women, or even children, all the horrors of the job, but this. Maybe it made you a bad person, but there was nothing worse than seeing the one person you held dearest at their lowest and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Every waking hour that you weren’t on the job was spent wondering how he was doing and if he was okay. If he was healthy, unharmed, and safe, or as safe as an FBI agent could be in prison. But most of all, the one thing that had kept you up at night, slowly destroying your sanity and making you question everything, had been the one question you couldn’t seem to get an answer to. 

“Why doesn’t he want to see me?”

You’d asked everyone and had waited with battered breath for an answer, a clarification on the matter, and it never came. As shocked as you had been at the notion that you wouldn’t be seeing Spencer for an indefinite amount of time, your team had been even more shocked. They knew the kind of relationship you and Spencer had, how close you’d become over the years, and how much you relied on each other. 

You’d asked every team member, you’d asked yourself, you’d even asked Spencer in a few of the letters you wrote to him, and then there had come a point where you just stopped. 

You were torturing yourself more than enough, day after day, and every single night, asking yourself a question you wouldn’t get an answer to. Not as long as he was locked up in that hellhole and you were out here, trying to keep together the pieces of something, that was on the verge of breaking. 

You felt a hand taking hold of yours, and for a second, you tensed up. Pulled out of your thoughts, you looked up and were met with chocolate brown eyes, full of worry - Emily’s eyes. 

You glanced around the room, only to realize it was empty, save for the two of you. You hadn’t felt when the others had left, that’s how deep in thought you had been. 

“Where did you go? I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” she spoke gently, squeezing your hand. If you were honest, that’s the first time she asked you anything about the situation. You’d spent weeks suffering in silence and trying to pretend that you weren’t slowly dying on the inside. 

You briefly thought about lying, it wouldn’t be the first lie you’d told since Spencer had been incarcerated, but you didn’t have it in you to hide anymore. 

And so, for the first time since Spencer’s hearing, you told the truth.

“Nothing makes sense anymore, Em,” it left you in a whisper, “I’m barely holding it together. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and just when I breach the surface, I’m pulled back in. My mind, it’s...I question everything, all the time. My mornings start with thoughts about him, and my nights end with tears over him, over this entire…this nightmare. I keep waiting for my alarm to go off, to wake up and realize that this has been a plot of my imagination, some cruel joke my mind has conjured, designed to show me... "Your eyes welled with tears, prepared to admit something you should have long ago. Emily gave your hand another squeeze, prompting you to continue, and so you did, admitting it for the first time aloud. 

“Designed to show me that I can’t live a life that doesn’t have Spencer in it.” You wiped at your eyes, willing your tears at bay. When you dared to look up, you were met with the eyes of the only other person besides Spencer who has been a constant rock in your life for the last 11 years. What you saw in her eyes then wasn’t surprise like you’d thought, but relief. It took you a moment to fully read her, but it was like a switch had gone off when you finally did. 

“But you’re not surprised to hear this, are you?” you smiled sadly, a light laugh leaving you. 

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t have my suspicions, and I’d be an even worse profiler,” she smiled at you, “Plus, there are some feelings that you just can’t hide,” you blinked, and then you blinked again. You hadn’t come right out and said it, and yet she knew, she somehow knew. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” you tried to backtrack, but you knew it was a losing battle. Emily knew you well enough to smell your bullshit from miles.

“That’s exactly how you meant it, and don’t even try to deny it. I see it every damn day. It’s how you leave the room whenever you hear someone talk about visiting Spencer. You don’t want to hear how he’s doing because you wouldn’t believe it, not unless you see him with your own eyes. But you can’t, so you’ve resigned yourself to the torture of not knowing instead of giving yourself the smallest amount of peace by asking. You’ve been suffering in silence for almost three months, too stubborn to say anything, thinking you were doing yourself a favor. And what for? You’re crying yourself to sleep every night and coming to work the next morning, pretending everything is fine when clearly it’s not. You think you’re fooling everyone, but the only person you’re tricking is yourself. And how’s that working out for you?” she had a point, and it’s not like you weren’t aware of that fact. You knew what you were doing wasn’t okay or healthy. You had the most stable support system imaginable to get you through the hardest parts. It was hard, though, especially when the person who was suffering the most was the person who’d taken your heart with him. 

“Way to call me out, boss.” you were just about ready to end the conversation, you couldn’t take any more of this. You’d promised each other long ago that you wouldn’t profile each other but you had a feeling that was exactly what Emily was doing right now. Maybe not on purpose, and with every good intention imaginable, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want one of your best friends to try to understand you based on behavioral analysis right after you’d spilled your soul out to her. 

“Just calling it the way I see it, someone has to,” she smiled, but then she shook her head a little before continuing. “What I want to know is why you didn’t say something earlier. You know I would have been there to listen, and so would have the team.” Damn, Emily Prentiss.

You didn’t have to think hard about it, you’ve been ruminating over everything for days. You were trying not to, but whenever your mind wasn’t focused on a case or the many drinking nights spent in Penelope’s purple adobe, that was where your mind would take you.

“Out of fear, I think,” you started, unsure for a second, still nervous to admit it. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking, but it was a start, “I was afraid, and I still am. I’ve been baiting myself into thinking it was just some sort of fondness, a little stronger than that which you feel towards a friend, and far lesser than what it actually is. I thought that if I didn’t say anything, I could go on lying to myself, and nothing would have to change, we wouldn’t have to change. Because words hold meaning, and an admission like that holds weight. What would I have done if it was just me who felt like this? I would have ruined the one thing we’ve both cherished for over a decade.” It felt good to finally say all of this out loud instead of holding it inward. But then again, Emily always knew when you'd had enough. 

She’d told you time and time again the same thing Hotch had asked of her when she returned to duty after faking her death: “Let me know when you are having a bad day.”. Honestly, you’d held off long enough, and so had she. It was a whole miracle she hadn’t pressed you about your behavior earlier. 

“That’s not what I was asking,” you said, shaking your head with a smile to let her know that you weren’t done speaking. 

“Everyone was suffering as a result of what happened in Mexico, what I was feeling wasn’t any different, Emily.” You were flippant about it, you always have been. You preferred isolating yourself and hiding everything instead of seeking a shoulder to bear the weight of what you felt. 

“Our sadness came from the fact that our friend was framed. And yours? That’s different.” 

“It isn’t,” she scoffed, getting up. Now you really felt like you were about to get scolded like a child.

“Yes, it is. God, you and Spencer are the same. It’s like I’m looking at his doppelganger without the whole… IQ of 187. You share some of the worst qualities a person can have,” you laughed at that, “You are both changeophobes-” you cut her off

“Metathesiophobia, fear of change.” She only raised her hand at you, as if to say, “See, you even sound like him,” which made you laugh even more. 

“You close yourselves off after a sad or traumatic experience, silently hoping you’d be able to get through the worst of it on your own. Most of the time, it’s evident that’s not the case. You only ask for help when you’ve reached rock bottom or have no other choice, but you’ve had a choice from the get-go. Your stubbornness even stems from the same anxieties, it’s infuriating,” she seemed to calm down then, in defeat maybe, or she hadn’t been mad, to begin with, she sat down again. 

“My point is, it shouldn’t have taken you learning that he might be coming home today to tell me all of this. I’ve known for a long time that there was something far more than platonic friendship on your end. You shouldn’t have tortured yourself since his trial to try to put the puzzle pieces together. You aren’t late, you have all the time in the world to say what you feel and what you want, and rejection shouldn’t be a factor, believe me. You need to make peace with that fear because Spencer is coming home today. And whether you are ready or not, you both need to have a serious conversation.” You appreciated her determination about Spencer being released, but then again, you had more than circumstantial evidence to support the fact that he was innocent. But, as always, Emily was right. He was coming home today, and after months of not seeing each other, there were a lot of things you needed to say. 

“I know. Thank you, Emily, for everything,” you whispered, squeezing her tight. 

Spencer’s POV

The first breath of fresh air after being on the inside for months felt far more overwhelming than he thought it would be. Being in charge of your being and your responses and emotions felt almost unnatural like the feeling of it didn’t belong to him. The sound of the wind and the traffic, people’s voices, and even the simple act of getting comfortable in the leather seats of the jet overwhelmed any ability to concentrate and think straight. 

In itself, it was strange. The prison was loud, the prison commissary at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a cacophony of prisoners talking, cells being opened, and guards barking orders. The yard was loud too, although, in the middle of nowhere, nature could still be heard - the sounds of trees and the lone birds, if he had to guess a mix of Mourning Dove and Field Sparrow. Their songs were soothing most of the time, a welcome distraction from the usual noises around him. 

Without the atmosphere he’d gotten used to and subjected to all of those sounds and people whose presence he found comforting before, he now felt almost out of place. He wanted to feel at peace, he wanted to feel free, and although he technically was, his mind was more trapped than he’d actually been in that 2 by 2 cell in cellblock C.

He kept replaying some of the hardest moments from his time in, every threat, every punch he’d gotten, and the phantom feel of the fists connecting. Luis’ blood on his hands, the smell of bleach incorporated with the drugs, the tip of the sharpened toothbrush embedding into his thigh. All he’d done to survive, harm, and more harm, only to make it out alive. 

He barely recognized himself. He’d deliberately ignored looking at himself in the small plastic mirror in his cell, for fear of seeing what he’d had to become. Gone was the Spencer who’d use his brain to get out of situations, whose obliviousness more often than not helped to balance his intellect with the socially acceptable. Gone was the bubbly personality of a kid excited to share a plethora of facts with his friends. 

In his place sat a man, tormented by the reality of the hatred felt towards him. The reality of being a pawn in a game whose complexity could have been his downfall. A man whose genius, as much of a blessing, could sometimes be a curse. A man who had felt too much and was made to experience far more loss than his quaint heart was able to take. In the end, he kept losing, be it his father, by no choice of his own. His mentor, at the hands of a killer’s insanity. His friends and loved ones, hoping for a better life or his freedom, made to rot in a place he didn’t deserve to be in. 

Some would doubt that he had anything at all left to lose. All in all, how much more could the scrawny twelve-year-old child prodigy, left to survive in a public high school, take? 

His mind had been plagued by that question for years. He’d thought about that more than he’d like to admit. After every loss, there’d been a split moment where he’d asked himself what was next. What would be the next thing life would take from him? And every time, he’d had to wonder if, next time, life wouldn’t reach for the one thing he couldn’t allow to be taken from him. The one thing that, were he to lose, he’d never recover. He had hoped, sometimes prayed, that after everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through, this would be the one thing that’d be spared. 

Locked in that cage, he’d tried even harder to ensure that there wouldn’t be another loss in his life - not anymore. Be it good or bad, he’d done everything. For 70 days, he’d had to assure himself he was doing what he thought was right, and what he wasn’t saying, he’d be forgiven for. He’d had to dodge questions and see the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, and when that wasn’t enough of a burden to bring all of his anxieties to the surface, he’d resigned himself to reading the words of the person he was doing all of this for - you. 

He’d reread every letter to the point where the edges of the papers were worn out, even though he’d known the contents by heart on the first read. He tortured himself by looking at your handwriting, analyzing the slanting of the words and the pressure of the pen. The little stains on the paper, he didn’t have to be a genius to know, were your tears. It broke his heart, to know he was causing you this much pain. He didn’t need to be there to see it, he felt it through your words.

He often questioned if it was worth it, if he was protecting you, or himself, or maybe even what you were or weren’t.

Even now, the weight of your words sat heavily on his mind, and right by his heart, in the pocket of his jacket, he felt the weight of the 9 letters you wrote. 

As he looked over from the little window of the jet, he couldn’t help but wonder if, in his desire to shield you from everything, he hadn’t gone too far. Ultimately, was he going to be forgiven, or be forced to pick up the pieces of the reality broken by his own doing?

“Don’t do that.” JJ’s gentle voice startled him from the overwhelming nature of his thoughts. She’d spent the last 30 minutes since they boarded silently observing him, waiting for him to pick up a conversation. But he’d decided to stay num. 

In every twitch of his fingers, in his desire to get comfortable but being unable to, she could see that he was restless. If she had to guess, his mind was much the same. 

“Do what?”

She gave him a look, one, had he not known her long enough, he might have been offended by. Clearly, she was offended herself, watching him play the clueless card. 

“Spence, I don’t need to profile you to know that your mind’s running a thousand miles a minute, contemplating your decisions, and I don’t think you should. You did what you thought was right, and no one blames you for that, not for Mexico, and not for what you did after,” she spoke evenly, gathering even Penelope and Alvez’s attention from where they sat. He looked over, receiving a smile and a nod from both before focusing on JJ again. 

Rationally, he knew she was right about everything. He didn’t need to run himself ragged with everything he could have done differently, or search for the perfect way to explain, or overall, the perfect outcome of his own decisions. He knew there wasn’t one, there was no perfect way to say what he needed to, no perfect words to pick so he could fix this and erase the pain he knew he’d caused. 

Perfection wasn’t something you could strive to achieve, because there’s no such thing as perfection. The term was diverse, everyone had a different perspective on what that might look like. If for JJ, perfection was the family that waited for her at home every time she returned from a case, for Spencer, perfection was vastly different. 

For him, perfection was the rich aroma of coffee that could cause someone’s insulin to spike because of the amount of sugar in it. The softness of a book page between his fingers, or the familiarity of a book he’d read before but needed to revisit. 

Perfection was the sound of your laugh whenever he was the one to prompt the sound. The way your eyes lit up every time you listened to him babble on. Perfection was the time he got to spend with you every day, every hour, and every minute that he could remember with almost scary accuracy. 

He could sit and wonder what the perfect way to go about this was, but there simply wasn’t one, there was only the truth. And as painful, hopeful, or even a little dumb as it was, that was the best he could give.

And maybe that’s what his mind should focus on instead, the truth, in its simplest form, at its core the truth he’d hidden for months, and then the truth he’d hidden for years. 

He had wondered long enough if he’d made the right choice. He spent plenty of time focusing on the shame he’d felt, prompted by the disappointment he’d seen in his friends’ eyes whenever they brought up your name. How he’d sit, silent, or give an answer so short and angry, it’d add even more shame to the one he already felt. 

Beyond his time in prison, where he spent most of his time questioning his decisions, he spent years before that questioning himself as a person. His place on the team, his intelligence, even his failings. His inability to form relationships where he’d be seen as more than Dr. Reid, or the skinny kid, pretty boy, or a genius. A relationship that’d make him feel like simply Spencer, without the added adjectives, that sometimes made him feel like a circus clown. 

Only when he’d been locked up, had he started to realize that he’d finally built a relationship with someone with whom he could be himself. The most basic, boring, and peaceful version of himself, and slowly, all had started falling into place. 

How content he felt whenever he was around you, the desire to tell you every good or bad news he received. How when you asked about his mother, it warmed his heart, or how worried he felt when you acted stupid in the field. How out of control he’d felt when you’d gone missing last year. Or even, at the time, the unexplained jealousy he’d felt seeing you talk with another man.

Morgan had asked, once, twice, a lot, if maybe he didn’t have a crush, but he’d denied it, every time. And every time he’d question himself, he'd dismiss the idea just as quickly. 

Yet, upon being forced away from you, the pieces had started mending into one. 

Every realization he’d had was like a new broken piece being glued to the overall mosaic. And every new piece added built everything he felt about you. And it was a lot, and it was overwhelming, and so, so right, it sometimes felt wrong. Because he was inside a prison of his own doing, and you were out there, made to wait for him, for an explanation, for the truth. 

And he’d vowed to himself that the moment he was out, he’d put everything on the table, no matter how much he’d fucked up or how much he’d hurt you. He’d sit there, and he’d let it out, and if necessary, he’d even beg for your forgiveness. 

Because there wasn’t a moment in this life, he wanted to live through, without you there with him.

Your POV

You pulled the trigger, your eyes focused, and your hands steady. Three consecutive shots were fired, each one hitting its intended target. Three more followed, and then as many as it took to empty the magazine. 

You put down the gun and took a deep breath, steadying your heartbeat, trying to rid yourself of the deep-seated anxiety you felt. An odd sense of calm overtook you whenever you found yourself at the shooting range. Maybe it was the everpresent scent of gunpowder or the quiet only disturbed by the firing of a gun. Or even the possibility of escaping your rising thoughts, the desire to run or scream, sometimes both. 

There was a sense of solitude there that almost made it easier to breathe. The repetitive motion and the weight of the gun in your hands felt like second nature. 

Front sight, trigger press, follow through, just like Hotch had taught you all those years ago. As long as you held that gun, your mind was quiet, and you focused on something other than the worry you felt. 

It made sense you found yourself there shortly after Emily had shared the long-awaited good news - Spencer was finally free, and JJ, Penelope, and Luke were on route back with him. For a short moment, you’d felt the weight being lifted from your chest, and then it dropped again, now tripled. 

Suddenly, your earlier conversation with Emily had gotten as real as the target before you. Even with the sense of peace, you’d felt after, your thoughts on the matter clear, you still felt a sense of dread at the idea of seeing him. 

As if he wasn’t your best friend, the man who’d long ago won your affection and captured your heart, but rather a stranger who held your future in his hands. And he might as well be, because whatever the truth to the questions you wanted answered was, one thing was for sure.

It’d either make or break you both.

You picked up a new magazine, and loaded the gun, aiming at the target before releasing the safety. Before you fired again, you released a breath, and with it, all the feelings within you - fear, uncertainty, yearning, and the sense of madness, which, although mild, was persistent.

You fired once, twice, your aim impeccable, and then, out of nowhere, you missed. 

The hair at the back of your neck rose, your heart rate quickened, and the feeling of another’s presence in the room was unmistakable. It took you just a second to put the pieces together, the intrusion felt like anything but that. 

Instead, for a brief moment, the person brought with them a familiar feeling of calm. In the next instance, though, reality came crashing like a tidal wave, and you knew you’d run out of time. 

Your hands shook as you put down the gun. You could feel him watching you, probably standing next to the door, as if he couldn’t will himself to move closer. The anxiety was palpable in the air, although you couldn’t really say if it was yours or his, most likely, it was a mix of both.

You went to reach for your protection but hesitated. Once you took it off, there’d no longer be an excuse for you to ignore him, you’d finally have to meet the reality he’d so carefully crafted for you.

Even though you felt like you could barely breathe, the desire to finally lay your eyes on him won out. 

Without missing another beat, you took off your earplugs and then your eye protection. You could faintly hear the sound of shoes squicking against the floor. He could never stay still when he was nervous.  

You picked up on the sound of your own breathing too, the beating of your heart was almost erratic. You were waiting, what for, you weren’t sure. 

He was waiting too, for you to turn around, to lay his eyes on you. Like a sadist, waiting to see the pain he’d caused, or a masochist, wishing for his own in turn. 

70 days of slowly killing you both.

When you finally dared to turn around, it took you a moment to fully take him in. He looked like the Spencer you knew, yet there was something different about him too. Dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit, he didn’t look comfortable. His posture was rigid, almost defensive. It wasn’t a conscious decision, that much you were sure of.

His hair was longer, pushed back, curling at the ends, and he’d lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make an impression after all this time. He looked pensive, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but maybe it was just the weight of the consequences he had to face.

Your eyes ran over every inch of him multiple times, intentionally avoiding his gaze for as long as possible. Seconds and minutes passed, and you weren’t really sure how much exactly. 

Spencer knew, though, of course, he did. If his fear of meeting you eye to eye was as great as yours was, you knew he was counting until the torture of the act itself was over. 

89 seconds he’d counted, although now with you there, they felt longer than the days without you did. 

When you eventually met his gaze, you felt a part of your heart chip on the inside. What people said about the eyes being a portal to one's soul couldn’t have been more right in that moment. Spencer, a man who excelled at hiding his emotions when he really wanted to, had let them out as clear as day for you to see. 

His eyes sparkled with so much sadness and guilt that it threatened to take you apart even before he had the chance to talk. Something softened within you at that moment, but in the next instance, it was like someone else took over. 

One moment you wanted to cry for him or with him, and the next you felt like your whole being needed to be let out. 

“Is that…is that all you can offer me right now? More of your silence? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that?” The questions, a few of many to follow, had a bite to them. 

His face fell a little, taken aback by your tone. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say, or where to start. How could he answer your question? He pictured a scenario where his words flew freely, where he gave you an explanation worthy of forgiveness and a confession, so earnest that it ended with you in his arms. 

Try as he might, the words didn’t come to him, just a barely audible accusation. 

“That’s not fair.”

You scoffed, as if in outrage. A madness, one born out of so much heartbreak, took over, it was blinding. If someone had asked you to explain yourself, you’d say that wasn’t you. You’d never be so forward, almost cruel, to him, but at that moment, being mad sounded so much better than being vulnerable. Like a shield, you weren’t ready to let go of yet.

“How exactly is this not fair, Spencer? It’s the truth!” you yelled, and you felt free, finally letting it all out. “You want to know what isn’t fair, though? The way you isolated me OUT of your life! For three months, I’ve had to stand on the sidelines and beg for scraps, just to know you were okay. Every pitiful look I’d get from the people I consider family felt like another stab to the heart. That’s what’s not fair!” You were screaming so loud. It was a good thing the range was soundproof, otherwise, the whole of the BAU would have been deep in your business by now. 

If he looked surprised by the accusation, he didn’t really show it. His posture took a turn, though. The rigidity disappeared, and in turn, it opened, as if the need to comfort you overpowered the uncertainty or the mask he’d had to hold while imprisoned. 

You didn’t want his comfort, not right now. Maybe later, when all was said and done, you’d get to have a normal conversation without the frustrations of the past. At that moment, you just wanted everything out of your system. You wanted the questions, the answers, and the truth. 

His silence continued as he started closing the distance between you. You wanted to move, to create more distance, but there was nowhere to go. You were squeezed between the range, and him. Whatever else was left than to continue begging for clarity.

“It’s not fair being sent away the first time I came to see you. To learn you didn’t want to see me! Each time it was my turn to visit you, do you want to know where I was? I sat outside that fucking prison, wishing for a glimpse of the person who’s been my rock for 12 years! Holding back tears, thinking you didn’t…you didn’t care like I did. Is this what I really deserve after 12 years by your side?” You almost slipped, you almost told him, and maybe you should have, it might have prompted him to talk or to say something. But no, he stayed silent. Step after step, he limped, his cheek twitched, and his brows furrowed, but like a coward, he remained quiet. 

He was meters away from you, three more steps, and he’d completely close the distance, and meet you face to face. 

“Say something, Spencer, damn it!” Your throat burned from the strain, and he advanced even more. “Anything,” you finished in a whisper, and all of a sudden, all the fight left you, and your eyes watered and your vision went blurry. 

He was just a step away then, and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but see how they shined. 

He reached forward, one hand taking hold of your arm while the other went to hold your waist, but you shook your head. “No, Spencer, please,” you whispered. You didn’t want to find yourself in his arms, because that would be the last of your composure, gone. You’d surrender to the feel of him like you even had a choice not to. 

He didn’t stop, not until you were snug into his arms, one of his hands at the back of your neck, holding your head tenderly, but the arm around your waist held onto you as if he was scared you’d slip away from him. 

Once in his arms, you finally let go, breaking down into pieces, hoping he’d be able to hold them all from crumbling to the ground. 

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept repeating, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your pulse point. All the while, you could only stand, your arms at your sides, as if paralyzed.

Being in his arms felt like being home somehow. It felt so right after having been deprived of the feeling for so long. It felt like there was nothing wrong, and nothing could go wrong at that moment. 

Even though you hadn't initially wanted his comfort, somewhere deep inside, you craved his tender touch. You craved the feel of his body near and the faint scent that was so uniquely him - a mix of coffee, fall, and old paper, books. You realized then that you craved the sound of his voice too, another part of him you’d been deprived of. 

The voice of the always rambling boy that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you couldn’t understand him sometimes. 

And the more he whispered, his voice broken and shaky, the harder you cried. You’d thought nothing could match the heartbreak of his actions or the anger of his silence, but the reality of being held against him brought the realization that your suffering mirrored his own. 

If you’d been dying on the inside for months, he’d been on the other side of the link holding you tethered to each other, dying just as much. 

And you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer after that. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and your arms finally circled his waist underneath his suit jacket, fisting the back of his shirt as if it were your one lifeline. 

You felt him exhale when you finally returned his touch, most likely in relief, before he dropped a light kiss on your head. 

You cried for the relief of having him back and close. For unspoken truths and time wasted, years of figuring out feelings clear as day. For all the anger, for all of his silence, for all you felt for him. 

He cried for all the pain he’d caused you and for all the time he’d wasted being alone instead of being with you. He cried for himself, he cried for you, and he cried, overwhelmed by his feelings for you. 

You clung to one another, crying, and minutes were passing and neither of you cared. Not when you had each other. 

After a while, when both your tears dried out and your cries quieted, but you still felt the need to hold each other close, you dared to murmur a broken “Why?” hoping he’d hear, hoping he’d understand. 

It didn’t take him long to mumble a reply, no longer silent. 

“All the words in the world available, and I wish I could explain.” it came out just as quietly, both of you scared to break the little bubble you’d found yourselves in. 

You pulled back from him, wanting to look into his eyes, red-rimmed and still sparkling when you felt yourself begging again. 

“Then try, please, because I’d rather know, and not understand, than not know at all.” And it was the truth. He could speak in riddles if he wanted, but you needed to know why he’d made that choice. 

You looked at him expectantly before he pushed a piece of hair back, and his hand once again settled at the back of your head, gently cupping it. 

“I wanted you safe from a world you didn’t belong in,” he admitted on an exhale, like a lifelong secret he’d gotten tired of holding onto. 

You looked at him in wonder, and it was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he didn’t belong in that world either, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, he shook his head. 

“I was ashamed when I had you removed from the visitor’s list. I didn’t want you to see me like that, like a criminal,” he started, pulling you into his arms, not wanting to admit it to you eye to eye, out of fear of being right. Of course, he was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from wondering. 

“The first time JJ visited me, they leered at her like they were being fed fresh meat, taking her in, committing her to memory. A cage full of animals. I knew then that I didn’t want that for you, and any guilt I had at keeping you away disappeared that day. It hurt me, knowing I was failing you and whatever trust you had in me,” he whispered, wishing to keep the reality of his thoughts and his feelings in a little bubble as if you only existed in it.

“I’m not the same person I was before, I couldn’t be him, even if it meant losing a part of myself in the process. I couldn’t really be a decent human being without bearing the consequences. Everything I saw, everything I did, and everything that was done to me, I don’t think I’d ever fully be the person I was before. And that too, I’m thankful I spared you from seeing.” It would explain his rigidity, a defense mechanism he’d had to get used to. 

And while everything he’d said thus far was true the biggest truth, he’d had yet to say. He had yet to really explain why he’d done what he’d done in the first place. He was stalling, still afraid, but the longer he held you, the longer he felt your heart beating in time with his, the more sure he became. 

To hell with the consequences, to hell with whatever happened after, he was right here in the now, alive, breathing, his arms around you, finally at peace. 

He pulled back, took your face into his hands, and finally whispered.

“Most of all, though, I knew I loved you enough to risk us if it meant keeping you safe.” It left him in a rush, a confession waiting to be let out for months. A feeling he’d had for years, and a moment where he could finally be open about it. 

“What…?” you licked your lips, shocked that you might not have heard him correctly. ”What does us mean?” This part of the conversation felt like you were daydreaming about it, it just didn’t feel real. 

“It means whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want us to be.” All of a sudden, it was that simple. 

“So, you love me?” You had a hard time taking it all in, yet your heart fluttered in pure happiness. “And you…you want us?” 

"Yes.” Even before you were done speaking, he was already answering. He was desperate to finally admit he was absolutely smitten by you. 

Months of figuring out your feelings, years of hiding them, a conversation to finally prompt a confession out of you, and all this time it was reciprocated. You could have cried, happiness like no other coursing through you, pure bliss. 

You wanted back into his arms, you wanted to kiss him so badly that your blood was burning from the need to feel him like you'd never been able to before. And yet, you knew there was something else you needed to do before you could finally do it.

“Spence, you don’t push away the people you love, no matter the cost. You rely on their love to help aid you when you’re at your lowest.” You gave his sides a light squeeze before you looked back into his eyes, only to see them hopeful and uncertain at the same time.

He looked hopeful, for the possibility that you might actually love him back, but uncertain because it felt like you might be pushing him away this time. 

“I can’t go through this again. Having to watch you wither away, in prison, at home, or by your own thoughts, I won’t be able to handle being pushed away again,” whispers, cries, pleas, memories full of heartbreak intertwined with present confessions full of joy. 

His eyes watered then, his lips trembling. Any sign of hope was gone, and in its’ place stood the realization of a man who’d maybe gone a little too far. He’d pushed you away, and now, it was your time to be the one sticking and twisting the knife deep, breaking his heart in the process. 

If someone were to ask him at that moment what his biggest regret was, he’d say this. This was his biggest regret, his own choices. 

A tear escaped him, and you reached up, wiping it away gently before you spoke again.

“If..if this is going to go anywhere, you need to rely on me. You need to believe that I can handle anything and everything, just as long as you are by my side. All those years of being pushed away - your addiction, Maeve and Gideon’s deaths, your mom’s diagnosis, Cat Adams - you weren’t alone then, you aren’t alone now, and you won’t be alone in the future. You’ll always have me by your side, you’ll always have my support. Most of all, you’ll have my love, but when things get hard, I need you to lean on me, and trust that I can help you because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together.” You finished on an exhale, full-on crying now. You could barely see him, but from the little you could, you saw tears streaming down his face, and a smile that grew wide, happy.

Those words, he knew them word for word. For 13 days, he’d repeat them, no longer needing to see them written down, he had them engraved in his brain. Your letters he could recite, but your final one he’d remember as long as he lived. 

“I promise to lean on you and trust that you’d help me because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching yours for just a moment before he pulled you in, and finally, his lips met yours. 

He kissed you, tentative at first, testing the waters. He wanted to take his time, commit your lips to memory, gentle, and plump, exactly how he’d imagined they’d feel. The more he kissed you, the more he couldn’t stop. Passion, urgency, desire - his kisses turned desperate like he wanted to swallow you whole and never let you go. 

He bit your lip gently, asking for access, before his tongue intertwined with yours and he pulled you flush against him, closing any gap left between you. Chest, hips, there wasn’t an inch where you weren’t touching. 

It felt so familiar, even though you hadn’t kissed before. So right, like no one's kisses had felt before. As if your whole lives, kissing each other was the missing piece in a complicated puzzle, waiting to be put together. Coming together as one, it felt magnetic, a feeling of euphoria, pure ecstasy, no one else mattered, no other feeling mattered at that moment, other than your hands on each other and your lips locked together. 

Time was passing by, and you didn’t care. Years of missed opportunities, hidden feelings, and long-awaited realizations all led to this moment. Starved for each other, a kiss full of fervor and even the taste of tears was present. Unimaginable, but very real.

When you finally pulled apart, he wiped your tears, and you wiped his in turn, before he gathered you back in the comfort of his arms, laying a kiss on the side of your head.

And between the four walls around you, nestled in each other’s arms, the place where no one could touch you, in a shared breath you both whispered. 

“I love you.” 

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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[nyctoaerah]

TWTWTWTWTWTW: GORE TWTWTWTWTW

Hi, I love the Yandere Gojo series! I'd like to make a request. My request: Yandere Gojo gives his non-sorcerer lover the worst punishment he's ever seen in his life because she keeps trying to run away… he makes her unable to move or run again. either amputation or broken bones. But in the end, he regrets it very much.

⋆♱⋆REMINISCENT

⋆♱⋆SYPNOSIS: Satoru loves Suguru deeply and he misses the latter so much, so how could he let go off you? How could he let a pretty little thing like you slip through his fingers when you’re literally just like suguru?

⋆♱⋆WARNINGS: Yandere (duh) bone breaking, Surgery stuff, Satoru himself is already a warning, Satoru has Capgras delusion disorder, Both Reader and Satoru ended up having shared psychosis disorder. Satosugu.

⋆♱⋆PAIRINGS: Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Fem! Non-sorcerer reader. Satosugu.

⋆♱⋆NOTE: okokok, i know that you didn’t requested satosugu anon, but there’s a reason why there’s satosugu in here, and it’s important in the plot. Hope you understand<3. Broken bones is already a bad punishment, but i’ll add a twist on it;) Hearts and Reblogs are greatly appreciated<3. Please do support me in wattpad and quotev too<3 i suck at doing angst, sooo.... Idk.. might make a part 2 though.

MASTERLIST

HE WASN’T THE MAN that you once knew, no longer the gentle soul who showered you with affection. The bond you shared over four years had been pure, filled with love and warmth, until that cursed night , Twenty fourth of December in 2017.

Satoru’s mental state appeared to deteriorate drastically ever since that day. The once warm and affectionate gaze he used to cast on you had now transformed into a cold and distant stare, devoid of any tender emotions.   

Sometimes he would blame non-sorcerers like yourself too, grumbling things under his breath like

“You non-sorcerers are the reason why suguru went spiraling”

You didn’t grasp the true meaning of this statement until you did a little digging into Satoru’s past. It was then that you realized you had been living in a state of blissful ignorance.

And after learning about his troubles, instead of scolding him for his erratic behavior and pushing him away, you chose to approach him with kindness and understanding—You felt bad, for you would mostly just yell at him for acting like that, when you didn’t knew the reason why he was like that.

You made every effort to comfort him and show him that you cared deeply for him, to show him how apologetic you are for being so ignorant. However, at times, you also confronted him with harsh truths in order to bring him back to reality. 

In these moments of brutal honesty, Satoru took notice of the uncanny similarities between you and Suguru. From the way you conducted yourself to the gestures you made, tie your hair up, everything seemed to echo Suguru’s presence.

The way you spoke, moved, the way your lips would curl up into a smile, the way you would laugh and interacted with others all carried a trace of Suguru’s aura.

And your voice, fuck, the softness of your voice was reminiscent of the way suguru’s voice would soften whenever he talks to satoru.

Despite lacking a clear physical resemblance, the essence of Suguru seemed to radiate from you in all aspects of your actions.

And perhaps, it’s the way that you managed to make him see suguru in you was what made him so obsessed with you. He saw echoes of his beloved friend in your every gesture, your every word. Sometimes, in a strange mixture of jest and earnestness, he would playfully dub you and Suguru, as if to merge the two of you into one entity. Sometimes he would joke about you being suguru’s genderbend.

You found it peculiar yet endearing at first, dismissing it as a harmless quirk borne from grief, as you had always seen it as his coping mechanism. Little did you know, this oversight would prove to be your gravest mistake.

Despite the warning signs he showed, his redflags, you somehow chose to endure it all.

And that was your biggest mistake.

His once-charming gestures now morphed into suffocating constraints, possessiveness, obsessiveness. Slowly but surely, he isolated you from the outside world, severing even the most basic ties of communication with your own family.

Your past talking stage and lovers would be either found dead or missing without any trace. The friends who once stood by your side now regarded you with wary glances, distancing themselves.

Of course, you felt a deep sense of sadness, believing there was a flaw within yourself. And seeking solace and understanding, you opened up to Satoru, shedding tears as you shared the studf that you were facing in your life. In your moments of vulnerability, he offered you comfort, reassuring you that he was all you needed and that you should distance yourself from other individuals. He warned you that these individuals posed a threat to your well-being, emphasizing that their intentions were harmful—and insisting that he was the only one that you need.

As much as you wanted to believe Satoru and trust him completely, your innate intuition stopped you from fully buying into his facade. Because despite his convincing demeanor, a lingering sense of unease tugged at the back of your mind, suggesting that something wasn’t quite right.

Moreover, Satoru showed a tendency to involve himself in even the most mundane of tasks, such as brushing your hair, typically tasks you would manage alone. It seemed as though he viewed you as some kind of doll, someone he could manipulate and control at his own whim. He made sure to always be in close proximity to you, refusing to give you any moments of solitude. The only instances where he allowed you some privacy were during bathing or changing, and even then, he seemed reluctant to leave your side.

His obsession became so intense that he became insistent on your constant presence by his side, whether he was on a mission, teaching, or interacting with colleagues. His students and coworkers all recognized the unhealthy attachment, with Shoko and even Megumi expressing pity towards you for being caught in Satoru’s suffocating love. Despite the visible discomfort from all parties involved, Satoru remained unmoved, justifying his actions to keep you close at all times.

Even when Shoko attempted to reason with him and knock some sense into his fucked up mind, Satoru would manipulate the situation to shift blame onto them, for separating him with suguru—and that they’re the reason why he only has you now.

Nanami also tried to intervene by trying to convince the higher ups to arrange dangerous solo missions for Satoru in hopes of separating you two, but his stubbornness prevailed.

Maki and Nobara also attempted to intervene, even organizing girls’ nights as a means of providing you with a break from Satoru, yet their efforts were futile. 

Ultimately, the support from those aware of the situation—Nanami, Megumi, Nobara, Shoko, Maki, and others—proved futile in alleviating the troubling dynamic with Satoru. Despite their best intentions and efforts, your circumstances remained unchanged due to Satoru's unyielding obsession on keeping you with him.

Everyone knew how fucked up he was, but what can they do?

Satoru is the strongest after all.

Your parents weren’t even aware of your situation, as you were not allowed to talk or visit them.

One instance stands out in your memory, when you attempted to say that you want to speak with your parents, and he adamantly refused, claiming it was too perilous. Despite feeling frustrated at the time, you ultimately acquiesced to his wishes. The following day though, a horrifying discovery awaited you— the lifeless bodies of your parents. It was at this moment that you began connecting the dots, reflecting on the untimely death and murder of your previous partners, the gradual alienation of your friends, the look of pity his students and colleagues gives you, the persistent reasoning of people trying to separate you from satoru, his increasing control over your actions, and the coincidental deaths of those you sought to interact with. 

The realization dawned on you that all of these  events were orchestrated by Satoru himself, with the sole intention of keeping you entirely under his influence. And an overwhelming sense of fear crept into your chest, prompting you to devise a plan to escape while he was on a mission. 

----𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆

Your entire body was engulfed in pain and weariness, each muscles contracting in pain, your breaths labored and shallow as if your lungs were about to give out—About to rupture, and a searing sensation in your chest as it tightens, heaving with each labored breath you took.

Your feet were raw and bloody, multiple cuts on it from the jagged edges of rocks you have stepped on, perspiration was all over your body in rivulets, and a dry, scratchy feeling in your throat due to lack of moisture and oxygen.

Everything burned, yet you persisted in moving forward, walking a fine line between imminent collapse and the urgent need to evade getting caught by Satoru—your boyfriend.

Rather than face capture, you were willing to risk death in your desperate attempt to escape.

You’d rather die trying to escape than live without trying to fight for your freedom.

The exhaustion consuming you mattered little, all that occupied your mind was the need to break free from his grasp and his control over you.

The passage of time was a blur, perhaps an hour had passed since you began running, your energy waning as your vision blurred with fatigue. 

Lost in the vast unknown surroundings, it seemed as though you were trapped in a never-ending loop. Uncertain of your location in Japan, the isolated landscape consisted only of a sprawling mansion, trees, and barren land devoid of any signs of human life. It felt as though you had been completely cut off from civilization.

As you continued running, tears streaming down your face, your mind were spinning and every hair on your body stood on end at the sound of his voice suddenly booming.

“Hm? Is that you that i see there, [Name]?”

You froze.

“What have I told you about leaving without my permission?”

The sound of Satoru's voice sent a shiver down your spine, freezing you in your tracks. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to keep moving, to escape his reach, but the fear of his wrath paralyzed you in place.

“S-satoru.. what are you doing here...?” 

You couldn’t comprehend how he had managed to be here when he was supposed to be on a mission. Your mind raced with confusion and disbelief.

“No, what are you doing here?” He asks, staring down at you coldly.

“Are you.. trying to run away?” He questioned you as he stepped closer to you.

Your breath hitched, throat constricting as you looked up at him with wide eyes, not knowing what to say.

“I-i..”

“I-i wasn’t i swear—”

You were left speechless as you were suddenly shoved you down, causing your head to hit the ground with a sickening thud. Blood trickled down your forehead as a cry of pain escaped your throat. 

His gaze bore down on you with a chilling intensity, sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re trying to leave me..”

“I trusted you,” he whispered shakily.

“How could you? I made sure to go back as soon as possible after my mission was finished so that you won’t be in danger... And now you’re running away and putting yourself in danger?”

Out of nowhere, his hand tightly gripped your throat, squeezing with such force that it became difficult to breathe, leading to a sensation of suffocation and a blurred vision.

“S-satoru n-nnh! L-let go!”

Struggling to break free, you frantically attempted to pry his fingers off your neck, letting out choked screams in the process. Your body thrashed around violently, desperately trying to fend him off by kicking in all directions. 

“You’re really just like suguru... always trying to resist..” 

“I trusted you,” he whispered unsteadily, his voice cracking.

“But what have you done?” he asked shakily.

His pupils trembled like leaves in a fierce wind, his entire frame quivering with an unsettling intensity. Those piercing sapphire eyes bore into you, sending shivers down your spine in the dim, eerie stillness of the forest.

“L-let go p-please satoru!” You begged.

“P-please. A-ahn.. let g-go, ‘Toru, please,”

“T-toru, haaah, i-i c-can’t breathe”

He seemed to pause at that when you called him “Toru.” 

And slowly, his grasp slackened, leaving you gasping for precious breath as your lungs desperately clawed for every molecule of air.

You coughed, again and again and again, and he just watched you.

When you finally managed to catch your breath, you turned to look at him, your face contorted in anger abd fear.

“Y-you’re crazy satoru,” Your voice emerged hoarse and jagged.

“You’re crazy, i swear” You rasped as you dragged yourself away from him, only for him to close the distance.

 “Crazy?” he repeated.

“Yes, crazy for love.” His fervor seemed to border on mania.

“Yes I’m Enamored, Suguru.” he professed with an almost unsettling zeal, his voice now carrying a hauntingly romantic lilt as though the torment he inflicted on you was an act of devotion.

Your breath hitched.

“What...?” your eyes widened.

“I’m not... Suguru...” Your voice faltered, delicate lips quivering. Pain pulsed through every fiber of your being, urging you to run away, yet how could you escape from one so consumed by his own distorted reality? Satoru appeared to be in a haze, his eyes vacant and unseeing—He was in his delusional state.

“Suguru, let’s go home..” Satoru mumbled.

You swallowed thickly. You were about to make a dumb move, but fuck, he really needed to snap out of it.

Gently, you cupped his face between trembling hands, hoping your tender touch might pierce the delirium and make him snap out of it.

“Please, ‘Toru, focus on the sound of my voice. It’s not suguru, it’s me”

But he remained ensnared in his twisted visions, oblivious to reality.

“...Satoru... ‘Toru, listen to me. I’m not suguru.”

“I’m not him. I’m [Name], your girlfriend...”

Again, and again and again, you tried to convince him that you’re not suguru.

“I’m [Name], the one that you met at the bakery that you liked so much... And i’m not suguru ”

You phrased it in different words.

And yet...

He was still lost in it.

“What are you saying suguru?”

Dread constricted your heart, each moment bringing you closer to the brink. To flee would surely send him into a frenzy but to stay would probably result in suffering. 

“Don’t say things like that... Suguru”

he whispered.

“I still haven’t forgave you for running away.” He uttered, and a pit formed on your stomach.

“I’m [Name], not suguru—Toru... Please, fuck, snap out of it”

He ignored you as he gently caressed your cheek before guiding your head towards his for a kiss. Your heart pounded as your lips met, the sharp sting of his teeth on yours making you whimper.

“S’toru... Stop...”

When he didn’t stop, you reacted by biting his tongue hard, making it bleed. Surprisingly, this did not deter him; instead, he released a soft moan of pleasure. 

“Oh fuck... You’re still the same as always, suguru.”

You gasped as he finally pulled away from the kiss.

“Sa-Satoru... What the fuck..?” You shrieked. Why the hell did he said that? Does this meant that... He was in a previous relationship with Suguru? Did he used you as a rebound? No, fuck, he sees suguru in you.

You understand it now.

“I’ll make sure you don’t do it again,” He whispered.

“Huh?”

“Make sure that you don’t massacre a whole ass village again so that they won’t separate you from me...”

Slowly, deliberately, his other hand drifted downward toward your ankle. Your heart drops as you felt him do that.

Oh fuck, he’s not planning on snapping your ankles, is he?

“Satoru, no, no, no, no, no!”

You strained against his crushing hold, but could only witness in horror as his fist closed around the delicate bones.

“If you do that, i’ll never forgive you— AHHH!”

A strangled scream caught in your throat as you felt the unmistakable snap of your ankle splintering beneath his strength.

White-hot pain lanced up your leg and your vision blurred with tears of misery. Before you could process the pain of the first break, his hand was upon your other ankle. You knew what was coming yet were powerless to prevent it. Another sickening crack reverberated through your shattered nerves as satoru callously contorted the joint beyond its limits. Bone fragmented, muscle tore, and ligaments ripped apart, leaving your legs crippled and limp.

----𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍

His fingers pressed insistently beneath your chin, a mixture of gentle caress and firm control as he meticulously groomed your hair, each stroke designed to emulate the exact style of Suguru’s locks.

Tying it back partially, he sought to replicate every minute detail, ensuring you bore an eerie resemblance to his obsession—Suguru. But the true horror lay in his pervasive fixation upon you as Suguru incarnate. He paid face surgeons to sculpt and mold  your face until the reflection in the mirror bore a warped semblance to Suguru’s features, he would drape you in Suguru’s attire and bestowing upon you the very essence of his fucking bestfriend.

And the worst of it all? he managed to find suguru’s daughters and practically forced you to take care of them—like the way suguru would take care of them. Even suguru’s daughters were horrified — yet they were too scared to even refuse.

All of the horrors that he had made you go through broke you completely.

“Perfect,” he murmured with a self-satisfied hum, stepping back to survey his handiwork.

You just sat there, disoriented, and feeling hollow as an empty shell.

Stripped of your true identity and coerced into being someone else you weren’t. The drugs he administered clouded your mind, the brainwashing eroding your sense of self until you could no longer discern who you are. The only thing you knew is that you’re suguru.

It was a bad punishment, real, real bad punishment.

Your identity was snatched, and you were no longer yourself.

He furrows his brow, observing the silence that hangs between you.

“C’mon speak, suguru.” he urges, his gaze piercing into yours.

“Isn’t it perfect?”

Suddenly, a flicker of realization dances in his eyes as they narrow, scrutinizing the subtle yet noticable difference between your eyes and suguru. The shift is imperceptible to most, but to him, it is a glaring anomaly that demands attention.

A smirk curls onto his lips

“Seems like we need to adjust those eyes of yours as well, huh? Don’t you agree, suguru ?” 

Satoru sighed as his calloused fingers tangled themselves in thick ebony locks, pulling your motionless form taut against his chest. An ichor-cold sense of wrongness had settled itself deep in his marrow, its barbs tearing at his insides. 

His beloved Suguru was already here... But... Where is his [Name]?

“Nanako and Mimiko would be upset to see you like this suguru...”

​​​​​RING

RING

Satoru blinked at the sudden shrill clamor emanating from his phone—and he realized that someone was calling him, still cradling your form  against his chest with a singular hand. He took the device from his trousers one-handed, calloused fingers opening his phone.

When at last the lock screen dissolved into view, an icy shiver seized his marrowed bones. 

It was you—in your normal self, kissing him in the cheek, and you two looked very happy.

Why did suddenly felt wrong?

...

... It felt wrong...

So, so wrong.

Why did nostalgia for your genuine self now claw so vehemently at the fissures in his heart, when only Suguru had the right to reside there?  

[sv5hive]

too little, too late. | lh44

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

content warning(s): angst, swearing, lewis is a bit of a dick in this sorry, unhappy ending because i love being miserable 🫶🏻

word count: 1,763

note: thank you so much for all the likes and reblogs on my first work a few days ago!! i didn't expect all the love so it is very, very appreciated :) this is a bit long so get comfy! and i also listened to you're losing me by taylor swift while writing so... yeah.

(psst! part 2 is here!)

(masterlist!)

memories from the night you two met flashed through your mind as you stood alone in the dim kitchen. the hangover from the next morning meant most of the night was a blur of shots, flashing lights and sweaty bodies but those deep brown eyes and endearing smile remained sharply in focus.

you stared at the two cold plates of dinner abandoned on the table and a bottle of wine nearing the end.

where had it all gone wrong?

six years.

six years of supporting him through everything.

and you loved being with lewis no matter what. seeing him in his element while racing was just as exciting for you as it was for him. but when would it end? you couldn't keep your life on pause forever.

back in 2017 when you first started dating you discussed a life of peace. a life with a big family and a nice house in england where your children could grow up normally like the both of you did. and you weren't foolish. you would never truly have peace when you were in a relationship with lewis hamilton, the face of formula 1. but you were willing to give up any sense of normality if it meant you could be with the love of your life.

or so you thought.

years passed as you watched all your friends get engaged and married, settle down and start their own families. at every bachelorette party, wedding reception, baby shower, family event you would be asked the same questions.

"when is he going to pop the question? you two have to get married! i bet he's planning to do it soon."

and every time you would have the same response.

"oh we're just taking it slow. he's pretty busy with racing and we both agreed that it wouldn't be fair for him to be away so much."

and you really did believe that at first.

either you didn't notice the stares of pity or you ignored them to convince yourself that everything was ok. it was only when you brought up the idea of finally having kids that you started doubting yourself.

"hey, lew. i've been thinking."

"hmm, yeah? what about." he replied absentmindedly, still searching netflix for a good movie to watch.

you passed him the bowl of popcorn to hold while you got under the blanket.

"i was thinking that we're finally ready to start a family."

he stilled. that was the last thing he thought you would bring up.

"lewis?"

"i want a family too, you know that. but i can't retire without getting that eighth championship. we're almost there. besides, i don't wanna leave you at home with a kid and not be there for every step of the way."

both of you knew at the rate mercedes was going, lewis would need a miracle and a half to win another title against red bull and their rocket ship.

he avoided your eyes and clearly thought that was the end of the matter so you accepted that when he was ready he would tell you. right?

you tossed and turned that night, unable to get the way he brushed off the topic so coldly out of your head. did you imagine it? that flicker of hesitance on his face? a pit of uneasiness settled at the bottom of your stomach as you desperately tried to reason with yourself. no. everything is fine. you had already waited a few years. what was a couple more?

so you tucked away your dreams of a family into the back of your mind for the time being and just enjoyed your relationship with lewis. every date felt like the first and you never wanted your love to end.

"lewis...this is too much!" as you stared in awe at the lone table in the middle of a completely empty restaurant.

rose petals led you two all the way from the entrance to a table with a single rose stood in a vase in the centre as candles flickered softly.

"for you? never."

staring at him in the golden light, you couldn't help but blush at his romantic gesture. he was making up for being away during a triple header and you hated to admit it but you could get used to this.

racing. you smiled at the thought of seeing lewis race. it was like seeing an artist produce a masterpiece every time pencil hit paper. he truly was an incredible sight to see.

you were there for each of his championships since 2017. you witnessed the joy of 2020 and the heartbreak of 2021. you were there, celebrating each win with him and consoling him after each loss, every time. you had fallen in love with the sport you once had no knowledge of just as hard as you had fallen for lewis. you knew how much of a toll each season took on him and you were always going to be there to pick him back up. his world became yours as you met his team and soon enough you were a familiar sight in the mercedes garage.

wasn't seven world championships enough for him?

you would never ask him to give up his career for you. and he would never ask that of you. but after years of waiting for the next step you couldn't help but wonder whether he still wanted that with you.

he was more than an hour late now. both of your schedules had been almost completely full for the past few months and you thought it would be nice to catch up over homemade dinner.

apparently he didn't think the same.

you hadn't bothered calling or texting. he always turned his phone off while at work anyways. as you finished off the last mouthful of wine the jingle of keys and the door unlocking brought you back out of your thoughts.

heavy footsteps trudged through the hallway.

"hey baby, i didn't think you would be up- what's all this?"

"dinner. i've been waiting for two hours now." you turned away from the counter to face him.

"shit. i am so sorry. i just got so caught up at work. we've been trying to improve the car to-"

"-to beat red bull. i know. i know."

"i promise i'll make it up to you. what about dinner next week? at that chinese restaurant you really like?" he walked towards you and went to wrap his arms around you before you pushed him away.

"stop, lewis. just stop. i can't keep doing this." you couldn't look him in the eyes.

a pin drop could be heard as lewis' blood ran cold.

"what?"

the change in atmosphere almost made you wish you had never said anything. almost.

"i can't keep waiting on you, lewis. i'm sorry."

"i said i would make it up to you." the look of pure confusion on his face would be amusing if it weren't for the fact that you were on the verge of tears.

"it's not just about dinner, lewis."

"then what is it about?"

"everything. god, we've been together for eight years and we're not even engaged and nowhere near starting a family. we have nothing to show for it. i knew i would have to wait and i was fine with that but i just can't anymore. this isn't what i imagined for us."

"so what? you're just going to leave? you know how i feel about having kids."

"and i get that, i do. but are you even planning on retiring in the near future? we're not getting any younger and i've been ready for a while now. i just don't think our ideas of our future are the same anymore."

"am i just meant to drop everything for you then? give it all up?"

"fuck, of course not, lewis. i would never ask you to do that. never. but sometimes it feels like you choose your career over me. and i know what it takes to be in formula 1 to win, i know you need to give it your full focus. i just, i need you to choose me for once. choose us."

"no, you don't know what it takes because if you did, you wouldn't be doing this to me right now. in the middle of the season."

you blinked. once. twice. you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"are you fucking kidding me, lewis? i'm ending our six year relationship and you're thinking of how it's going to effect your season?"

"yes! fuck, this is my whole life. it always has been and it always will be."

there it is. confirmation from the man himself. you stumbled on your words trying to convey your anger as your blood continuously boiled at his miserable attempt to fix his mess.

"have you ever even thought about how i've felt all these years? giving every excuse in the book to our families and friends about why we haven't taken the next step in our relationship and defending you when they said i was too good for you? you may get to avoid them by going to the races but i don't have that privilege."

your throat was dry at this point as you gasped for air and still, he was stood almost unbothered at the fact you were hopelessly clinging onto the last remaining threads of your relationship, willing him to fight back.

"so that's it? you're not going to stop me?"

tears pooled at your eyes as you realised this was really happening.

"well clearly you've thought this out pretty well."

you didn't know whether to laugh, cry or throw the empty bottle of wine at his head.

"you are fucking unbelievable, lewis. i thought this meant something to you but clearly not."

you stormed towards the door and opened it. you paused while silently hoping he would beg you to stay. hoping he would risk everything for you.

but it never came.

you wiped away your tears and tried to at least sound somewhat assertive despite your voice wavering.

"let me know when you're not at home and i'll come get my things."

you slammed the door shut with a resounding bang and walked away from the place and person you had called home for so long.

he sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. as he moved to get a beer out of the fridge his gaze fell on the calendar stuck to the front. there was a red heart around today's date with "anniversary!" written in your handwriting.

fuck.

note: yikes. i hope you aren't too sad because of me. any feedback is appreciated!! let me know what else you wanna see :)

[imaginespazzi]

Part 3: Miss Me, Miss Me Not

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

And it hits me when the lights go on (shit, maybe I miss you)

(In which a lazy writer somehow still manages to make her deadlines, much to her own shock)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining and a teensy bit of Fluff

Words: 5.8K

TW: Swearing (once again I think that's it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I'm not gonna lie til about an hour ago, I very much did not think I was gonna give y'all a Monday update but here we are! A couple of housekeeping things, I went back and added months to the years so hopefully that's more helpful. I lowkey dislike this part but I felt like the fic needed it and I'm excited to write the next part. Ngl, the editing on this is pretty nonexistent because trying to read this back lowkey killed me so please feel free to point out mistakes so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, and disliked and anything you wanna see going forward. I really appreciate all of y'alls feedback and the long reviews make my day! Have a good rest of your week lovies <3

September 2017

Azzi: just got home :) 

It’s a simple text and it should be easy for Paige to conjure up an equally simple reply. Instead she finds herself typing and deleting, over and over, because nothing sounds quite right. There’s this hollow feeling thrumming in her chest, that has only gotten stronger every passing minute since she’d said goodbye to Azzi at the airport. If she tries hard enough, she can still feel the remnants of their last hug lingering against every inch of her skin. She wants to memorize that feeling and create a blanket out of its threads to numb the ice cold shiver that’s been repeatedly running through her veins from the second Azzi had gotten on that plane. But even that might not be enough. Not when she’s learnt just how warm Azzi’s presence can be and how everything else pales in comparison. 

Paige lies to herself that it’s an accidental slip of her fingers, that she’d meant to press send not call, that she had every intention of hanging up the facetime on the first ring itself. 

But then Azzi picks up on the second one.

And really it would be rude to hang up. 

“Hey what’s up?” Azzi’s face fills the screen, tired eyes staring intently at Paige through the screen. 

“Oh um-” Paige fumbles for words, awkwardly shuffling her feet that are dangling off the side of her bed, “I just wanted to ask how your flight was?”

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “you couldn’t have texted me that?”

“Too tired to text,” Paige lies and the words i just wanted to hear your voice stay stuck, burning hot, in her throat, “gotta save these money-making fingers for more important things.”

“Yeah I’m hanging up-”

“NO-” it comes out far more forceful than it should and if possible, Azzi’s eyebrow shoots up even farther, as Paige clears her throat, “I mean- uh- you didn’t tell me how your flight was.”

Paige is too busy cringing at herself to notice the light blush that tinges Azzi’s cheeks. She’s too busy wondering why this girl brings out this nervous bumbling side of hers to notice the fond smile that almost cracks through Azzi’s lips. 

“The flight was okay. I actually got to sleep this time,” Azzi says pointedly and Paige laughs. 

“So what you’re saying is it was boring as hell.”

“I’m saying it was really peaceful not having someone yapping in my ear while I was trying to sleep.”

“So you didn’t miss me?” Paige presses, trying to keep her voice teasing despite how desperately she wants the admission. 

Azzi hesitates, as if she’s debating with herself, before, “I didn’t say that.”

It’s a little ridiculous how large Paige’s grin is but it’s okay, because Azzi’s smiling back, soft and shy. They’d look foolish to anyone else, the way they’re so intently gazing at each other through a screen as if there’s no barrier between them at all. 

“It’s gonna be weird going to the gym without you tomorrow morning,” Paige confesses after a second, moving to lay down on her stomach. 

“I bet. You’re gonna get absolutely nothing done without me,” Azzi teases dramatically before her eyes soften, “it’s weird that I’m not gonna see you at all tomorrow.”

There’s something gut-wrenching about that admission and yet, there’s something in it that heals a part of Paige’s heart that she hadn’t even known needed to be fixed. It means something to her that Azzi must feel it too. Because if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been just a little afraid that maybe the connection was just in her head, that maybe Azzi was simply tolerating her presence out of kindness. 

“You should just move to Minnesota,” Paige replies finally, “much nicer than Virgina or whatever.”

“Have you ever even been to Virginia?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she flips herself to lie on her back, holding her phone above her in a way that lets Paige see entirely too much and yet not nearly enough. 

“No but it sounds boring as fuck.”

“Not with me,” Azzi says, biting her bottom lip sheepishly as soon as the words are out. 

Paige smirks, suddenly filled with a brand new confidence, “yeah? You’d make Virgina interesting for me Fudd? What would we do?”

Azzi licks her lips and Paige feels her mouth go dry. 

“We’d be together,” the younger girl says finally, averting her gaze as the depth of her words begin to make Paige feel like she’s being flooded by an ocean of emotions she’s not quite ready to feel yet, “anything can be interesting if we’re together.”

It would be so easy to come up with a sarcastic quip or tease Azzi for being a sap and yet there’s a certain sincerity in this moment that feels too fragile for Paige to feign nonchalance. 

“Is Virginia nice in the winter?” she asks finally, hands fidgeting with the hair ties secured around her wrist, “Minny’s a little too cold sometimes.”

Azzi’s eyes shine and Paige wants to try and read them, find the little clues hidden in her irises and solve the mystery lingering behind the crimson flush of her cheeks. But the truth is that Paige is a little scared of what she’d find, a little scared that discovering Azzi might mean discovering herself too. 

“You should come find out some time,” the brunette says, casual tone filled with intricacies of something far deeper. It’s the closest they’ve gotten to saying anything of actual substance and they tip-toe around saying what they both want, daring the other to ask first. 

“I dunno,” Paige says, determined to win the game, “I’m not in the habit of showing up to places without a proper invite.”

Azzi scoffs, “a proper invite? Are you expecting someone to send you a carrier pigeon with a gold letter addressed to her royal highness or something?”

“That would be nice,” Paige surmises and Azzi rolls her eyes.

“Does your back ever hurt from carrying that ego?”

“Only hurts from carrying my team.”

“Oh my god you’re so full of it.”

“Full of talent? Yessirrrr.”

Azzi huffs, “Paige.”

“Azzi,” Paige hums. 

“Do you wanna come visit me in Virginia during winter break?” Azzi says finally, a small smile playing on her lips like she’s okay with losing this game as long as it’s to Paige. 

“If I must,” Paige says dramatically, shrugging her shoulders and everything as Azzi lets out an offended squeak. But inside, her heart flutters at the offer, at the idea of seeing Azzi again, even if it feels like a lifetime away. Because as long as it’s Azzi on the other side, Paige and her impatient self can wait however long it takes. 

“Actually you know what nevermind, you don’t gotta come,” Azzi concedes bitterly,  scrunching her face (and Paige would never tell her this but she thinks Azzi looks just a little too cute when she’s mad and so maybe she riles her up on purpose)

“No takesies backsies Az,” Paige sing-songs before her lips uptick from a smirk into something more sincere, “hey Az,” she whispers, giggling to herself when Azzi pretends to ignore her, “I’d really like to come see you in Virginia during winter break.”

And as a brilliant grin dazzles across Azzi’s face, Paige realizes that her favorite thing about Azzi’s smile isn’t when her dimples show or when her eyes twinkle, it’s when it’s there because of Paige, when it’s there just for Paige. 

“Good,” Azzi whispers as they fall into a comfortable silence. 

There’s this serene sense of calm that laces itself around Paige’s nerves. Her normally fidgeting body is content to be perfectly still, an anomaly to her usual demeanor. The truth is that Paige isn’t the kind of person who’s okay with just existing; she likes to spend every second in motion, living out the high. There’s a part of her that’s scared of missing moments, scared that the people around her will leave her behind if she doesn’t chase them. But it’s different with Azzi. The younger girl makes Paige feel like it’s okay if she takes a moment to just breathe. Because Azzi will wait. Because Azzi won’t leave Paige behind. 

“Wait,” it’s a little while before Azzi pipes up, shaking Paige out of her thoughts, “what time is it?”

Paige’s eyes flicker to the time on her phone, confused by the line of questioning, “it’s almost 9 why?”

“Don’t you have a team party or something to go to tonight?” Azzi asks, face scrunching, “I swear you told me you had something tonight.”

“Oh-yeah- Amaya’s back to school thing,” Paige sheepishly scratches her neck, suddenly feeling itchy in her flannel shirt. She’d forgotten she was wearing that instead of her daily clothes. Hell, she’d forgotten she was supposed to be going somewhere in the first place, too occupied with other thoughts. 

“Bro get up,” Azzi orders, “you’re already late.”

“Nah it’s fine. I don’t think I’m gonna go,” Paige says and she thinks she should probably feel a little more guilty about it. 

“What do you mean you’re not gonna go?” Azzi asks in disbelief, “dude you’re the star of the team. You have to go.”

“Amaya will understand besides-” Paige drags in a deep breath, feeling vulnerable as the next words fall out in a quiet whisper, “I don’t wanna hang up yet.”

“Paige c’mon we can talk tomorrow,” Azzi tries to protest but it’s half-hearted at best.

“I wanna talk right now,” Paige argues, “you don’t wanna talk to me?”

For a second Paige thinks Azzi might just say no, might just chip away a little bit of heart with a well-intentioned rejection, but she doesn’t, “always wanna talk to you P.”

“Then don’t hang up. Talk to me.”

And Azzi does. All night. 

Two weeks laters there’s a letter, in an envelope with a picture of a carrier pigeon, that arrives in the Bueckers’ mail box. 

To her royal highness, 

Unfortunately I couldn’t find an actual carrier pigeon (I swear I tried) so this envelope and the mailman will have to do. 

~ You are formally invited this winter break to the Fudd family residence in Virginia. ~

(And you better show up Bueckers)

Yours, 

Azzi

February 2033

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Ice whines petulantly as she makes herself comfortable on the couch across from where Paige is getting her makeup done, “this is parental neglect.”

Paige laughs, eyes closed, her makeup artist does her mascara, “you’ll survive.”

“You don’t know that” Ice argues, plucking a grape from the fruit basket before segueing into a rant about how boring Arlington, Texas is. 

Paige is grateful for the distraction her younger friend is providing. Her nerves had been on edge since the moment she’d woken up this morning, anxious to get the impending farewell press conference over with. She’d already started accepting that the Wings weren’t the right place for her but that feeling had only been heightened by her trip to the Valkyries. And ever since she’s come back, Paige feels a little bit like she’s sleepwalking through her final moments in Dallas. If she’s honest, she’s probably rushing things a little bit. There’s still plenty of time before she really has to move to Oakland but it had been her choice to move there as soon as possible. Paige had always been good at conjuring excuses and she had plenty as to why she needed to be in California so soon. But at the end of the day it isn’t about training or team bonding or any of the other hundred justifications she’s given anyone who’s asked. It’s about a little girl who’s eyes had been brimming with tears when saying goodbye, a little girl who had made Paige pinky swear that she’d be back as soon as possible. 

Really, Paige thinks she should be applauded for her restraint, because truth be told, the second Stephie’s lower lip had trembled, Paige had been prepared to ask Ice to just ship her stuff to Oakland so that she’d never have to let go of the little girl’s hand. 

And here’s the thing, Paige is willing to admit she wants to go back to the Bay Area for Stephie. It’s that pesky little part of her that’s desperate to go back for Stephie’s mother, to go back for one more hesitant yet lingering touch, that she won’t ever share with anyone else. 

“I never thought I’d live to see you and Azzi willingly playing together again,” Ice says as soon as Paige’s makeup artist leaves the room, “KK and I didn’t even try betting on it, we were that sure it wouldn’t happen. Shit I should have. I totally would have won.”

“Don’t y’all get tired of betting on my life?” Paige asks, rolling her eyes, trying to ignore the first part of what Ice said. 

“Betting on your life has made me hundreds of dollars bro,” Ice says, before a more earnest  look crosses her face, “but genuinely P, are you sure about this? There’s a lot of history there.”

Paige sighs, “it’s not about our history. It’s a basketball decision. And we’re both mature adults who know that. I’m just tryna win. Nothing else.”

“It’s never nothing when it comes to you two.”

“It is this time,” Paige argues adamantly and Ice raises her hands in surrender. 

“I just don’t want another set of teammates to have to deal with y’alls bullshit,” the younger girl teases, but it’s laced with a hint of seriousness that sends a flare of guilt shooting through Paige’s body. 

“Ice-” she begins.

But Ice is quick to change to a lighter subject, “can’t believe Jana’s the one that gets mom and dad back together. I always knew she was the favorite.”

“We didn’t have favorites,” Paige plays along, thankful for Ice and her ability to always keep the tension to a bare minimum. 

“Oh don’t lie. We all know you did,” Ice scoffs and then lets out a chuckle, “and now Azzi’s actually a mom. That’s kinda insane. And you met the kid right?”

“Yeah. Yeah I did,” Paige says and she can’t help the way her entire face breaks into a gleaming smile as her thoughts turn into memories of Stephie. She doesn’t even realize she’s gotten lost in a different world until Ice coughs, an amused grin playing on her lips. 

“You’re so royally fucked Paige,” Ice shakes her head, “the only person I’ve seen you smile that big for before is Azzi.”

“She’s a cute, smart, adorable kid, that’s why I’m smiling,” Paige tries to defend herself. 

“She’s Azzi’s cute, smart, adorable kid,” Ice counters. 

“That has nothing to do with it,” Paige protests again but it rings hollow to her own ears.

“Oh my god I needa call KK and get this bet started. It’s only a matter of time for real,” Ice says, more to herself than to Paige, as she whips out her phone, probably texting KK. 

“A matter of time till what?”

“You’ll find out Paigey,” Ice says gravely with a mocking smile, patting Paige’s head, “all in due time.”

***

The Dallas Wings media room is buzzing, reporters desperate to ask Paige questions and the blonde tries to maintain a smile despite the fact that her heart is lurching in her throat right now. Her opening speech had been short and sweet, parroting basically the same thing that had gone out on her social media the night before; she’d been desperate to just get it out. Generally, Paige is pretty good with the media, having been immersed in the spotlight since basically forever. The attention and how to maneuver it has always come naturally to her so she’s not sure why she feels so unnerved by it all today.  From the back of the media room, Ice sends her a thumbs up and a reassuring grin and Paige lets out a breath, glad to have at least that comforting presence with her. 

“Aidrian Ginsburger with Bleacher Report, Paige, you’ve obviously spent all of your career so far with the Wings, can you tell us a little bit about the impact this organization has had on you?”

Paige smiles at the question, letting her brain skim through pages and pages of fond memories she has of time spent with this team. It might be time to move on but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have plenty of cherished moments. 

“Yeah um- this place has really shaped who I am as a person. Since day one, the front office, obviously it’s a different one to the one I came in with, they did a lot to make sure that I was comfortable. My teammates through the years have been incredible and I wouldn’t be the player I am today without them. And of course the fans you know, they always showed out for the team, for me. Always supported me in anyways and I hope that I was able to give back the love to them that they always gave to me,” she says, suddenly nostalgic for the team that had started it all. 

The next questions are similar in nature and Paige’s answer varies only in words but not substance. She feels herself start to settle into it, now fielding the expected questions about the Wings and Valkyries with an air of confidence. There are a couple questions about Azzi that make her heart thump, but that was to be expected. It’s a pretty brilliant story in the making, two MVPs who used to play on the same college team coming together. Talia had warned Paige in advance that there was no avoiding it. But for the most part the questions have an easy answer about how Azzi’s a brilliant player and she’s excited to play with her old friend again. That is until a familiar hand shoots up and all the tension that had previously dissipated, comes roaring back with a vengeance. 

“Olivia Reynolds with the Dallas Morning News, Paige, as others have said today, you and Azzi Fudd played together at UConn and you were best friends.” Olivia’s eyes glint viciously, “I mean it’s pretty well documented how hard you tried to recruit her to UConn. But despite being best friends, the two of you have been never seen hanging out, outside of games and formal events, unlike your other teammates that is-”

“Is there a point to this?” Paige asks, hands fisting in her lap as she tries to keep herself calm. 

Olivia smiles, sugary sweet, “I was just wondering if maybe there was some tension and how that would affect your on-court chemistry at the Valkyries?”

“There’s no tension,” Paige lies through gritted teeth, “we didn’t hang out because we live far apart. There isn’t much else to it. And even if there was, Azzi and I are professionals. We wouldn’t let anything off the court affect our goal to win.”

“You lived far apart before UConn too, but that didn’t seem to stop you guys. What changed?” Olivia presses.

“Time did. Our lives did. There’s nothing sensational here. It’s just a case of two people drifting apart,” Paige says and the fabrication feels heavy on her tongue. If only it really had been that simple. 

“But clearly not that much,” Olivia says, and Paige glances at the moderator, desperate for an intervention, “there were plenty of fan pictures of the two of you out getting ice cream with Azzi’s daughter. It seems like you’re already fitting into that Bay Area life-”

“I’m not hearing a question at the end of your sentence,” Paige hisses and she can practically already hear the scolding she’s going to get from Talia once her agent gets wind of how this press conference had gone. The entire media cohort is watching the exchange with wide eyes, no doubt questioning whether they were embarrassed or impressed by their colleague. Ice is mouthing something to Paige, probably something along the lines of please keep your shit together, but Paige is steaming. Really, she should have expected this. 

“Well if you’d let me finish,” Olivia snarls, the façade of innocence dropping, “even if the two of you have drifted, as you put it, clearly there’s still a relationship there. How big of a role did Azzi Fudd play in your choice to move to the Valkyries?”

Paige sucks in a deep breath, nails digging into her palm at the question, “Azzi is the best shooting guard in the country. That was her role in my decision to move to the Valkyries. I don’t know what else you’re trying to imply, but I want to play with her because we play well together. That’s it,” she stands up and there’s pin drop silence, “thank you all for coming but we’re done with this press conference. 

***

Paige is seething as she exits the media room, Ice hot on her heels trying to calm her down. The sane part of her knows she should head back to the makeup room or even to her car, instead she finds her feet carrying her in the direction of where she knows Olivia Reynolds will be, reviewing her press conference notes by the coffee machine like she always is. 

“What the actual fuck was that?” Paige spits as she comes to a halt in front of the reporter. 

“I know you think playing basketball is the only job in the world Paige, but that was a reporter doing her job,” Olivia says, her calm and composed voice only furthering Paige’s irritation. 

“Bull-fucking-shit.” Paige sneers, “that wasn’t a reporter out there, that was my ex-wife grilling me like we were back in fucking divorce court.”

Olivia cocks her head, “oh so you do remember who I am to you then?”

“Oliv-”

“Because if you did remember, I’d like to think you’d have the courtesy to at least personally tell me that you were moving to your,” she drops her voice, “ex-girlfriend’s team instead of letting me find out with the rest of the world. You don’t think you owed me that?”

“That’s what this is about?” Paige sighs, “Olivia we’ve been divorced for almost three years now, I don’t owe you-”

“You didn’t owe Azzi anything either,” Olivia whisper-yells, the calm in her voice replaced by the same anger that had tainted the last year of their marriage, “but when we first started dating, you kept us a secret for months. You wouldn’t even tell your fucking teammates cause you were so scared she’d find out,” her eyes drift towards Ice who looks like she wishes she’d made a different decision rather than following Paige out here, “you said she deserved to hear it from you but apparently I don’t-’

“I didn’t mean it like that Olivia. Look, I meant what I said up there. There’s nothing between- ”

“Spare me,” Olivia says, as she stuffs her notepad into her bag, “you can lie to all those other reporters out there about how all of this is a basketball decision. You can even lie to yourself if you want. But you can’t lie to me, not when I spent four years fighting to keep our relationship from getting crushed under whatever it is that Azzi is to you.”

***

It doesn’t matter how far Paige burrows her head into her pillows, she can’t seem to stop herself from hearing Olivia’s words reverberating through her ears. The two of them had done well at co-existing in their social circles after the divorce had been finalized. While no one could quite call them friends, they’d done a good job at being friendly, being able to converse and share an occasional drink when in their combined friend group. And if Paige is honest, she knows she’s fucked up, knows she probably did owe Olivia a call. But calling Olivia would have meant calling someone who would inevitably make Paige face the truth, just like she had today. The truth that, even with the deal Talia had concocted with the Liberty hanging in the background like a dark presence, the move to the Valkyries was about a lot more than just basketball for Paige. 

She’s so entrenched in her thought that she doesn’t bother checking who it is when the facetime rings, irritation seeping into her voice as she answers it, face still buried in her pillows, “WHAT?”

“Miss Buecks?” a tiny voice comes through the phone and for a second, Paige thinks she must be dreaming, until she finally lifts her head to look at her phone, and Stephie’s small face lights up the whole screen. And it’s like she can feel little hands on her shoulders, slowly unknotting her tightened muscles. 

“Stephie,” she breathes out, a sudden sense of serene calm washing over her previously tense body. 

“Hi Miss Buecks,” Stephie says happily before she squints at the screen, “you sleep weird.”

Paige laughs, “and why’s that?”

“You’re not wearing pajamas and it’s only seven. ‘Dults don’t sleep at seven,” Stephie says matter-of-factly. 

“It’s actually nine here,” Paige says, a little surprised by the time; she hadn’t realized she'd been moping in her bed for that long. Ice had forced her to get lunch together, not wanting to leave Paige alone after the encounter with Olivia. Once she’d finally gotten back to her apartment, Paige had flopped on her bed, taking out her frustrations on her poor pillow. 

“That’s not poss-ble,” Stephie scrunches her face, “Mama’s phone says it’s seven.”

“It’s seven in California, it’s nine in Texas,” Paige tries to explain though by the way Stephie’s looking at her, she thinks she’s probably just confusing the girl more, “how’d you figure out how to call me babe?”

Stephie gives her an exasperated look, “Miss Buecks I’m five. I know how to use facetime.”

“And does your Mama know you're facetiming me?” Paige asks, eyebrows raised.

“She’s in the shower,” Stephie whispers, grinning sheepishly. 

As if on cue, Azzi appears on the corner of the screen and Paige feels her mouth run dry. The darker skinned woman is clad in a light pink fluffy bathrobe that ends right above her knees, giving Paige the perfect view of her long, toned legs that seem to shimmer despite the shitty quality of the facetime. Rivulets of water cling to her neck, delicately cascading down the valley of her breasts before disappearing from sight. And Paige must be dehydrated because never has she wanted to taste a drop of liquid more than she does right now. 

“Stephie,” Azzi groans, as she walks towards the phone and Paige gulps, heart beating faster with every step the other woman takes, everything about her becoming clearer and clearer, “what did I say about using my phone.”

“Only in em-a-gencies,” Stephie recites, “but Mama I had an em-a-gency.”

Azzi tilts her head, eyebrows raised as she gives her daughter a knowing look, “and what was your emergency?”

“I really, really, really, this much” Stephie stretches out her hands as far as they’ll go,  really, really, really, miss Miss Buecks.”

Paige feels her heart flutter. Stephie’s words feel like a hand carefully pulling her out from under the pile of stress she’d been buried under the whole day. It’s like the little girl is pushing away the rubble pressing against her lungs, turning the rocks into dust with a light touch and Paige feels like she can finally breathe. 

“Sounds like a pretty big emergency to me,” she says, relishing the way Stephie’s face lights up at the admission, “cause I really, really, really miss you too Steph.”

“See Mama,” Stephie says, placing the phone against a wall so can place her hands on her hips and look up at Azzi with a pleased smirk. 

Azzi rolls her eyes before glaring at Paige, “you’re a bad influence on her.”

“I’m the best influence on her,” Paige argues, sending Stephie a conspiratorial wink, “just you wait Az, I’mma teach her all the good things.”

Something unreadable flashes across Azzi’s face before she’s back to looking at Paige with an unimpressed arched eyebrow, “I am not letting you corrupt my daughter Paige Bueckers.”

“We’ll see,” Paige says slowly and Azzi shakes her head before turning to Stephie. 

“Alright Stephie bean time to go brush your teeth. It’s almost bedtime babes,” she says with a stern look 

“But Mama-”

“No arguing, you have school tomorrow missy,” Azzi reminds the little girl and Paige can’t help but marvel at the mother that Azzi’s become. And it makes her heart ache for the fantasies she’d dreamed of when she was in her early twenties. She’d always known Azzi would be a great mother; Paige had just naively thought she’d be there alongside her too. 

“Can Miss Buecks stay on the phone till I fall asleep?” Stephie asks, peering up at Azzi with big doe eyes, “please Mama pleeeease.”

“I’m sure Miss Buecks has other things-”

“I don’t,” Paige cuts in far too enthusiastically, clearing her throat to get back some semblance of restraint as both mother and daughter turn to look at each other, “I don’t have anything to do tonight so I can stay till you fall asleep Stephie.”

“YAYY,” Stephie cheers enthusiastically while Azzi studies her with a weary look, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and then you can read me, my story Mama.”

With that, the little girl runs in the direction of what Paige can only assume is the bathroom, skipping with childlike joy as she sing-songs about something Paige can’t quite make out. 

“You know you don’t have to say yes to everything she asks right?” Azzi says slowly as she grabs her phone and sits on the couch. 

Paige shrugs, “I have time to stay.”

“Do you?” Azzi asks skeptically, “because from what I heard the Wings are having a little farewell party tonight, for you.”

Paige narrows her eyes, “and how exactly did you hear that?”

“I have connections.”

“You talked to Ice.”

“I talked to Ice,” Azzi concedes, “and I’m pretty sure you’re already an hour or so late for it.”

“Exactly. I’m already an hour late so why bother,” Paige says, sitting up so she can rest head against her headboard, “why were you talking to Ice?”

“I can’t talk to my friend?” Azzi asks slowly. 

“Of course you can but why specifically today?” Paige presses 

Azzi bites her lip, “I um- I watched your press conference today. You uh-” she averts her gaze, “you seemed really stressed at the end and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

A soft grin upturns Paige’s lips before she can stop it, “were you worried for me Fudd?”

“That’s not-” Azzi groans, “shut up.”

Paige smirks, “you were worried for me.”

“I was concerned for my future teammate," Azzi huffs, “besides,” her face hardens, “she was way out of line.”

Paige sighs at the implied mention of Olivia, “maybe but maybe I deserved it.”

“No you didn’t,” Azzi protests and that oh so familiar protective tone in her voice carves itself into every crevice of Paige’s heart, “no one deserves to be put on the spot like that. She was being unethical trying to dig into your personal life like that.”

“This is nice,” Paige says softly, unable to help herself. 

“What is?” 

“Seeing you get all defensive over me. It's nice to see you still care. I didn’t know if you still did.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second, gnawing at her bottom lip as she looks at Paige, “I’ve always cared Paige. And-” she hesitates as the tightrope beneath them wavers, “I’m always gonna care.”

There’s years worth of unsaid words lingering in the silence between them as they breach some unspoken rule they’d both inadvertently agreed to. And they both know that they shouldn’t be saying things like this to each other, that they’re teetering on the edge of falling into an abyss that has nothing but destruction at the bottom. But Azzi’s words feel like sunshine, like heat waves across her skin and Paige is so tired of feeling cold. 

Before either of them can say another word, Stephie comes back into the room, crawling into Azzi’s lap.

“I’m back,” she beams, completely unaware of the way the two adults are scrambling to act normal around her. 

“Here baby,” Azzi hands the phone to Stephie, “take Miss Buecks to your room. Mama’s gonna go change and then she’ll come read to you okay?”

“‘Kay Mama,” Stephie complies, pressing a soft kiss to Azzi’s cheek before running towards her room. For a second Paige’s screen is blurred in motion until Stephie fixes her again and Paige catches a glimpse of Stephie’s room, specifically the walls that are painted the perfect shade of Valkyrie purple. 

“I love your walls Stephie,” she compliments.

“They’re pu-ple,” Stephie exclaims, “that’s my favorite color.”

“First the ice-cream, now the color, you’re stealing all of my favorites kid,” Paige teases but she’s secretly pleased by this revelation. It’s dangerous how fast Stephie’s starting to whittle down Paige’s walls and build herself a permanent shelf in Paige’s cabinet of my people. 

“Can I tell you a secret Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, bringing her lips closer to the phone. 

Paige smiles, “of course you can.”

“I think Mama misses you too,” Stephie says softly and Paige feels her heart catch in her throat, “I heard her tell Nanna on the phone.”

“Can I tell you a secret Stephie?” Paige lowers her voice, leaning into her phone. 

“‘Course you can Miss Buecks.”

Paige swallows as the admission falls from her lips, “I really miss your Mama too.”

I miss her always and I think I’ll miss her forever. 

“What are you the two of you whispering about,” Azzi’s voice cuts in as she tucks herself next to Stephie, a children’s book in her hand. 

“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says immediately, winking at Paige through the phone. 

“Yeah,” Paige echoes, ignoring her erratic heartbeat, “nothing Azzi.”

Azzi looks between the both of them, clearly aware she’s being left out of something, but doesn’t push further. Instead she flips open the book, pulls Stephie closer into her arms and starts reading. If anyone were to ask Paige later, she wouldn’t have the faintest idea about a single word in that damn book. Because as Azzi’s soothing voice begins to lull Stephie to sleep, and the younger girl, despite her yawns, holds the phone up so the blonde can be included in every second of it, Paige feels herself being pulled into a dream she has no right to dream. She dreams of being in Stephie’s purple bedroom. She dreams of her and Azzi lying against Stephie’s lilac bedspread, their hands entwined in the middle over Stephie’s little body. She dreams of a forever that she’d long forsaken.

[unspeakable-imagination]

Not the worst || Logan Howlett x Reader

My asks are OPEN and my matserlist is HERE

Reposts and likes are always appreciated

Just a drabble because I can't get it out of my mind. I was thinking abt this all night.

Cw: Oldman logan slander/ logan 2017 slander, hyping up worst logan hype, fluffy, angst, lots of bonding, probably gonna make them fall in love now sure, cannon-typical violence, cursing

Living as Wade Wilson's favorite neighbor was something eles. You and him were best friends, commonly taking time to watch my little pony or other similarly childish cartoons when Althea was out.

You were there when we left the x-men. You were there for him when Vanessa left him, there for him when he was to lost to find a job. You were there when you helped him pick is toupee, and you were there at his birthday party when he was kidnapped.

To say that it shook you would be an understatement. You'd been through so much and it physically pained you when you realized that whatever he was gone for, you couldn't help him. And two days later, he was back. And he wasn't alone. He came with a man, a wolverine. Or as you heard in passing, the worst one.

Logan loitered around the apartment more than you'd like, given that you could no longer peacefully watch ponies either wade, otherwise a grumbling logan would throw fit and slam doors.

Eventually, you just had to pull wade to your own apartment across the hall. And then the knocks came. Every time Wade was over, without fail, Logan would interrupt your buddy time, knocking on the door to whisk wade away for their weird- platonically gay relationship.

It took some time for you to recognize that Logan was lonely, too. And soon, it became the three of you having movie nights. It was hard not to come to enjoy the presence of the clawed man, and it went from you sitting awkwardly to the side while wade would constantly fail at cuddling Logan, to you in the middle.

Until tonight. Wade wasn't going to make it to your bi-weekly movie nights anymore, to busy pining after Vanessa. She was willing to tey and mend their relationship. It broke your heart to loose your best friend, but logan was there rubbing your back, comforting you.

"Atleast we don't have to listen to him run his mouth and spoil the whole thing," he'd reason to you. "You know that he would just ruin the end for you, or tease you when you cry."

Logan was right, but you loved watching movies with them. "But it sucks, he's my friend. I mean I get it, he's gotta chase her, he loves her, but we matter, too, don't we, Lo?"

"Of course, bub. There will always be more movie nights, and even if he can't make them all, atleast you have me?" And you did. For the next three weeks, without fail, Wade would avoid you both on designated movie nights, and Logan would come to your place for them, comforting you and picking out movies.

On more than one occasion you had fallen asleep on his shoulder or lap, and plenty of times you'd even let him sleep over him not wanting to wake the angry, coked up, blind batshit Althea. You began to neglect Wade, watching him finally win over Vanessa's heart, and watching Logan slowly move into your own place, shifting out of the other crowded apartment.

As the time for tour nightly movie drew nesr, you sorted the sofand the popcorn bowl, the lights and the TV, and set up the coffee table with assortment of other snacks and drinks that would last you two through the night. Various beers and even a cigar.

Logan had just gotten home from his job and gone to shower while you set up. His shower was quick, like it usually was, and by the time he was done, you were snuggled on the sofa in a faux sherpa throw. He settled down next to you and you handed the remote to him. In the weeks that Logan had been living with you, you couldn't deny the way you began to develop feelings. He was attractive and capable, and while he seemed rough on the exterior, he was truly tender hearted and did care about your feelings.

That's what made it so hard to bring up that you knew the other, much older-looking, dead logan from your timeliness.

It was just a week after the Manchester incident when Logan and Xavier had fled to Mexico, finding you along the way. They pulled you into their group with Caliban and things took a shift in your day to day life. No longer accounting for the tracker mutant, you spent your time helping him give the professor shots and medication. You were one of the few people, one of the few humans, that had an opposite gene mutation. Instead of getting the X gene, you got something eles, something that made you invulnerable to mutant powers.

You were the perfect person to medicate the senile telepath. You were there to see far too many events unfold that traumatized you. That made you realize that Logan wasn't the person on the pedestal that everyone else thought him to be. He was a stupid drunk, hellbent on killing himself, and the only thing stopping him shifted from the professor to his daughter. And it was horrifying, the way that so many things in his life were kept so well behind closed doors. It's horrifying that the media portrayed him in such a well light, and it was dishonorable that every food company used him to poison food for all of mutant kind, and he didn't do anything to stop it.

After he died, you had found yourself at the X-mansion, being the person to relay the news to Colossus and the other surviving xmen. To show their gratitude, they let you stay there, and eventually, you met the asshole burn-victim lookalike.

Logan noticed your shift in mood, the aura around tou changing. "[Name]?" He leaned towards you and you shook your head, returning to the present. "I was asking what you were in the mood to watch?"

"I need to tell you something." It was sudden and Logan swore he felt his heart drop to his stomach. You brought you hand to your mouth, anxiously chewing on your nails as he looked at you.

"I'm sorry for keeping this from you for so long, but I knew the other logan. I knew the other you. And every time I've heard you walk about yourself being the worst logan- well, it's not true." Your eyes glossed are and you swore you'd cry. He shifted, rotating, bringing his knee up so he could face you better. Reaching to put a hand on your cheek.

"What do you mean, bub? You knew Logan?" You nodded, almost pitifully and your cheeks began to feel warm tears drip down them. He gently wiped them away. "What do you mean, though? Everybody tell me about how amazing this world wolverine was."

"They didn't see him behind closed doors, they didn't see him at the end like I did. Laura- she was just a kid. She only idolizes him because he died for her- but that doesn't make him good." You used your hand to dry some more of your tears.

"He was a peice of shit and only cared about himself until he knew he was dying. He was insistent on ending it and only found his release by getting skewered on a tree-root." Your emotions shifted from sadness to bubbling anger.

"There was an incident, when Xavier's brain began to go. I mean, a degenerative brain disease in thw worlds most powerful brain?" You paused. "He took him away, and he found Caliban and I along the way to help him. He left everybody behind, too, not just you. Maybe it's a Logan thing. It was funny, really. He was acctually planning on Leaving Caliban and I behind anyways. Saving up buy for a boat to live in the ocean where Xavier and him could just die peacefully." His face fell as he listened. "He was disgusting. Worse than you. You've proven you're a million times better. I mean- he is the reason why we have so little mutants left. Why children are pushed away into boarding schools or segregated just because they have powers."

Logan was silent as he took his time to absorb all the Information you just shoved apon him. "Wow," he breathed. "I really am a peice of shit everywhere."

"No logan, you don't understand. You, and I mean the you sitting in front of me isn't! You're amazing. You helped wade, you helped Laura leave the void. You helped me! God dammit, logan I love you. You've been nothing but amazing and so refreshing. You're somebody who acctually appreciates this life and living now. You're the best person out there."

His eyes nest buldged when you said you loved him, his heart rate picked up and by the time your final words left his lips, he swallowed them whole and kissed you. His hand on your cheek curved around the back of your neck and pulled you close, his other hand stabilizing his lean.

He pulled back just to place his forehead on yours. "Fuck, [Name], you have no idea how much a cherish your words. You've been encouraging me for so long and I've been so anxious I've taken you for granted, but I havnt. You don't understand how much you mean to me."

"I think I do, Logan. I feel the same way."

Don't get me wrong I think old man logan is attractive, but I had to look at it from a bad pov because Logan really was an ass in that. Movie was great and I'm still heavily attracted to all (even the bitchy versions) of him. Can't get over it.

[justagalwhowrites]

Shelter

IT'S FINALLY DONE!

A request from MONTHS ago from the lovely, the talented, the supreme Lavender fan @dundienominee who wanted some QZ era Joel angst that included a few specifics. I thought you'd sent an ask but I think it was just one of the millions of DMs lol

So here it is! A NON-CANON Lavender one shot, where Joel and Doc are stuck together when FEDRA puts the QZ on lockdown.

I hope this is what you're looking for, love!!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender (can be read independently with the understanding that Joel and Reader are exes and Reader also dated Tommy in the QZ.)

Warnings: SMUT!, Results of canon-typical violence, infidelity (not on each other). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 8.4k

August, 2017

Joel had been right. 

That wasn’t a fact he particularly appreciated in that moment. He’d rather have been right and not shot. He’d rather have been wrong, for that matter, even if you’d be bound and fucking determined to hold it over him for the next who knows how fucking long. 

But no, he had to be right and shot. 

Still, better than another alternative. 

You shot. You hurt. That was the worst possible outcome. 

Well, maybe not the worst. That would be you dead.

Joel couldn’t think about that. 

“Shit,” you swore, the sound of FEDRA around the next corner. 

“There,” Joel said through gritted teeth, nodding toward a pile of junk. 

“Right,” you said, pulling him along toward it, your shoulder tucked into his underarm. You pulled him down to the ground just as a dozen or so FEDRA guards ran past, armed to the teeth, guns drawn. Joel fought to keep quiet, breathe silently through the pain, until he couldn’t hear them anymore. You looked at him. There was blood on your cheek. “Should we wait? Or do you think we’re good to move?” 

“So now you want to listen to me?” He asked sarcastically. You glared at him. He ignored it. “Should be alright now, doubt more troops will be headin’ that way from here.” 

You helped him to his feet and he leaned against you again, trying to ignore the way his body seemed to be hyperaware of everywhere you touched him. You started walking. 

“I’m really sorry, Joel,” you said, sounding a little breathless, as you started getting close to his apartment. “I really thought it would be alright…” 

“Maybe fuckin’ listen to me next time,” he managed through the pain. “Might not be a damn doctor but I do know about shit like this…” 

“I know,” you said quietly. 

Joel let the subject drop. 

The two of you had gone to the absolute shittiest part of the QZ to run medication to a boy there who had been in the clinic just a few days earlier. You’d gone on a special trip outside the QZ for it. You had explained it all to Joel and Tess, of course, but he didn’t really get it. All he knew was there was a four-year-old boy who needed some drug urgently. 

You just hadn’t bothered to explain where that drug needed to be taken until you, Joel and Tess made it back to the QZ. 

“No,” Joel had shaken his head. “No fuckin’ way…” 

“He’s going to die,” you said. “He has the flu, he’s already showing signs of complications, if he doesn’t get help it will kill him, I need…” 

“No.” 

“Fine,” you snapped. “I’ll go on my own.” 

You turned to leave. 

“No the fuck you won’t,” Joel grabbed your wrist, yanking you harshly alongside him. “Gonna just get yourself fuckin’ killed…” 

“Fuck off, Joel.” 

You pulled yourself from his grip and stalked off, leaving him no choice but to follow you. For someone as damn smart as you were, you made stupid fucking decisions. 

Decisions that led to the two of you getting caught in the crossfire between two rival groups that left Joel with a bullet in his stomach near his hip. 

“Almost there,” you said, your fingers holding tight to his side. 

“Know where the fuck we are,” he muttered. He didn’t need to look at you to know that you rolled your eyes in response. 

He managed to make it up the stairs and into the apartment, Tess pacing the living room. She stopped when she saw him, her eyes going wide. 

“Jesus Christ,” she ran to him, taking his other side. 

“Let’s get him to the table,” you said. “Trying to avoid doing this on the floor again…” 

Joel had all but forgotten that you’d saved his life here, in this room, once before. He had almost no memory of it, what little he did remember was more like a dream. You, next to him, your hands soft, voice gentle, something warm in him that was tied to you. You didn’t seem real, you seemed like something he’d lost, something that was in a place that was too far and too good for him to reach. But you were there. And you were taking care of him. 

“Fucking told you, Doc,” Tess snapped, helping to haul Joel’s broken body to the table. She cleared the papers and trash from it, dropping shit into a chair. “Fucking told you not to go to that side of the goddamn QZ…” 

“Yeah, I get it,” you snapped back. “I’m a fucking idiot, alright? Just help me.” 

You and Tess got Joel up on the table and he groaned, his muscle tensing and pulling around the wound in his stomach. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you said, helping him lay back on the wood with a grunt. 

“Don’t know why I let you talk us into this shit,” Tess said, still pissed, as she unbuttoned his shirt. “I should really fucking know better by now, you’re the dumbest smart person I know…” 

“Tess,” Joel growled. 

“She’s going to get you fucking killed,” she snapped. “She’s going to get us both fucking killed…” 

“Tess,” his voice was sharper. 

He knew that Tess was far from a fan of yours. She’d been growing tenser and tenser around you for a while now. He was never sure why, if it really was what she said and it was because she felt like you took stupid risks, if it was because he’d never been able to care about her the same way he cared about you in spite of how much he loathed it, if it was because she was tired of trying to keep the peace when you were so clearly done with him. For a while, it had seemed like the two of you were friends. Almost friends. But not anymore. 

“Someone has to give a shit if you live or die, Joel, and we both know that it’s not going to be you and it’s not going to be her, either,” she unbuttoned his jeans next. “So that leaves me.” 

“You think I don’t give a shit?” You asked, dropping your pack on a chair and yanking it open. “You think I keep you and him alive for fun?” 

“No, I think you do it so you can keep trying to save a place that can’t be fucking saved,” she was yelling now. 

“Tess.” 

“Shut up, Joel,” she barely glanced at him before rounding on you again. “I’m tired of being some tool in her goddamn stupid crusade…” 

“Tess.” 

“I didn’t fucking make him come with me!” You yelled back at her. “I would have gone on my own, he’s the one…” 

“You really think he’s the one who makes the decisions when it comes to you?” Tess shoved you. “You really think he’d let you run off to get yourself fucking killed? You’re an idiot sometimes, Doc, but you’re not that fucking stupid.” 

“Tess!” Joel was trying to sit up but she wasn’t paying attention. You were. You looked at him, frowning. 

“No,” she yelled, shoving you again. “No, I’m done with this shit, I’m done pretending that we’re doing fucking anything besides risking our fucking lives for some pointless…” 

“Tess!” He managed to sit up, grabbing her arm before she could shove you again. Her head spun, hair whirling, eyes narrowed. “She’s right, don’t fuckin’ blame her…” 

“She’s…” Tess shook her head. “You are so fucking stuck on her, on her bullshit, on…” 

“Get out.” 

You pulled gauze out of your pack and pressed it to the wound at his hip. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She gaped at him, her brows raised. 

“You can figure out how to fuckin’ respect her or you can go,” Joel said through gritted teeth. “Not gonna just let you talk about her…” 

“Her is right here,” you cut him off. “Stop talking about me like I’m not fucking here. And Joel you need to lie down before you fuck something else up, Jesus…” 

Tess looked between him and you before she shook her head and stepped back from the table. 

“Good fucking luck,” Tess snapped before stalking out and slamming the door behind her. 

You looked where she had been for a moment before nudging Joel back down onto the table. 

“You done?” You asked, brows raised. “Because I don’t need you to defend me from your girlfriend, Joel. I’m still going to keep you alive even if you both hate me.” 

“I don’t…”

“Stay still.”

He gritted his teeth and stared daggers at the ceiling while you worked on him for a moment, pressing gauze into his skin for a bit before pulling it away. 

“Don’t think you’ve hit anything major,” you said, more to yourself than to him. He still grunted in response. “Stay put, I still need to get that bullet out and get you cleaned up.” 

He followed you with his eyes as you went about collecting tools, cleaning yourself up, putting on sterile gloves. He tried to focus on you without it raising his blood pressure which, he figured, wouldn’t be the best thing to do when there was an open wound on his torso. 

But it was hard. 

It had been years with you like this. More than a decade. Thinking about you too much made his chest tight, his stomach clench. Thinking about you too much made him worry he might be having a fucking heart attack, that you just might be the death of him.

But you were still who he thought about when he needed comfort. Still where his mind went when he was in pain and he needed to remember why he should try to live through it. Still what he pictured when alone at night and he thought the loss and the emptiness of his life would swallow him whole. Still where his thoughts found when he wanted to come because nothing had ever felt as good as you. 

“Think you can sit still while I get this sucker out of you?” You asked. “Because I don’t exactly have someone here to hold you still at the moment.” 

“Just do it,” Joel squared his jaw and stared at the ceiling again. 

You were quiet for a moment before you touched his bared skin with the lightest, gloved touch. 

“I really am sorry,” you said softly. “I know… We have our issues but… I really hate seeing you hurt. I really hate getting you hurt.” 

Joel looked at you, your face drawn into a frown, your eyes sad. Even now, he thought you might be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“I know,” he said, looking back at the ceiling. 

You were quiet and he could feel your eyes on him before he felt you slip some kind of instrument into the wound. He hissed through the pain of it but kept still. 

“I know,” you said, voice gentle and soothing. “You’re OK, it’ll be OK.” 

He remembered you using that voice with Sarah. He came home from work once and his daughter was perched on the counter, sniffling, her face streaked with tears. You were talking to her in that voice, a wad of paper towel held against her knee. 

“You’re OK. It’ll be OK.” 

“You with me, Miller?” You asked after what felt like an eternity but knew it must have only been a few minutes. “Need a break?” 

“Just finish it,” he managed through gritted teeth. 

You found the bullet and planted your hand firmly on the softness of his stomach. 

“Hold still,” you said. “This is going to have to be kind of slow, there’s relatively little damage, nothing major hit and I’d like to keep it that way.” 

You pulled on it and he could feel you moving through him, through the gaping wound him, pulling the pain out into the open air. 

When you finished, you held the bullet up, glistening with blood. 

“The cause of all this trouble,” you said, turning it in the light. “Let me patch some of this up and make sure you don’t bleed out. I don’t think you’ll need a blood transfusion this time at least…” 

Joel frowned, lifting his head slightly as you set to work. 

“What do you mean ‘this time?’” 

You froze for half a second before you tried to brush it off. 

“Just, you know,” you said. “In general.” 

He watched you work for a moment. 

“Hey.” 

You glanced at him before looking back at his wound. 

“What?” 

“You had to give me a blood transfusion last time?” He asked, trying not to groan at the pain. 

“I didn’t want to freak you out,” you said eventually, tucking gauze into the wound. “But… yeah, you were down a lot of blood and… Look, I did what I had to do to keep you alive.” 

You cleaned up the skin around his injury. 

“Whose blood?” 

“What?” You asked, focused on the task. 

“Whose blood did you use?” He asked. “Don’t imagine you went down to the clinic so whose blood.” 

You were quiet and Joel was about to ask again when you spoke. 

“We didn’t know your blood type,” you said quietly. “So Tommy would have been the best option…” your voice trailed off but he knew that wasn’t the end. He kept watching you and you sighed before you kept going. “But I’m O- so…” 

He just blinked for a moment. 

“It was yours.” 

Your eyes darted to his for half a second. 

“Yeah. It was mine.” 

He was quiet as you pulled off your gloves with a sharp snap. 

You’d saved him. Bled for him, poured yourself into him so he would keep breathing. He’d walked around for who knows how long with you pulsing through his body and he hadn’t known. 

“You should have told me,” he said eventually. 

“Yeah, well.” 

You started packing up. 

“You should have…” 

“I couldn’t be sure that you wouldn’t fucking slit your wrists if you knew, alright?” You snapped. “You hated me. You still hate me but it was worse then, you’ve figured out how to tolerate me in the last decade which is great and all but Jesus, Joel, don’t act like telling you was the easy thing to do.” 

You threw your pack over your shoulder and he sat up, ignoring the pain at his hip. 

“I need to get home,” you said. “Try not to wreck all my work…” 

There was a pounding at the door that made you jump. Joel shoved himself off the table and quickly buttoned his shirt as he limped for the door. 

“Bag down,” he said quietly. “Stay back.” 

You nodded, obeying him for once in your damn life. 

He opened the door slowly, cautiously. A FEDRA officer stood at his door. 

“Can I help you?” Joel tried not to growl, tried not to do anything that would incite suspicion. Not that he could help that he had on a bloody shirt with a fucking bullet hole in it. 

“There’s been increase violence in a nearby quadrant of the QZ,” the man said, barely looking at Joel. “We’re requiring all residents to shelter in place until further notice. Is everyone here a member of your household or does someone need an escort home?” 

Joel saw you step toward the door, opening your mouth like you were about to speak, but he held his hand out behind him, silencing you. 

“Same household,” he said. “We’re all set here.” 

“We’ll let you know when it’s safe to leave,” the guard said. “Lock your door.” 

He left before Joel had a chance to respond and he shut the door quickly before slumping against it. 

“Joel!” You hissed, going to his side and looping an arm around his waist. He leaned against you and you helped him to the couch. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“You really want to get a fuckin’ FEDRA escort home?” He grimaced. 

“No,” you snapped, setting him on the couch. “But do you remember how long they locked us down for last time?” 

“No.” 

“A week,” you said, sitting on the threadbare arm chair. “And I’d rather get a FEDRA escort than have you kill me out of frustration in three days because that’s how long we’ll last before you get that fed up with me.” 

“Jesus, you really think we can’t manage to not kill each other for a few fuckin’ days?” He settled into the couch. “You n’me have survived a lot worse than that.” 

You scoffed. 

“Have we?” You asked, brows raised. “Besides, aren’t you worried about Tess?” 

He shrugged. 

“She can handle herself better than you can,” he said and you rolled your eyes. “You that worried about gettin’ back to Derek?” 

“Worried about FEDRA showing up at my door to look for relief for the clinic and not finding me,” you snapped. “Should have just let them…” 

“Not gonna let you go out there with those fucking assholes if people are out there shooting at each other!” Joel cut you off. “Don’t trust ‘em with shit let alone with you! I can keep you safe here so you’re staying here, it ain’t up for discussion!” 

You just blinked at Joel for a moment, a shocked look on your face. 

“Think we can handle not strangling each other for a few damn days,” he muttered, looking away from you. He couldn’t really handle looking at you. You didn’t say anything. You just got up, grabbing your pack and stalking further into the apartment. He frowned. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” 

“Don’t want to be around you any more than you want to be around me,” you said. “So I’m going to Tommy’s room…” 

“Always liked his bed,” Joel muttered, grinding his teeth. 

You flipped him off, not bothering to even look at him before slamming Tommy’s door behind you. 

***

Day 1

Tommy needed better hobbies. 

It was clear Joel had barely used Tommy’s room since he’d left. There were some boxes for storage - things you weren’t about to go searching through since you were pretty sure it was full of black market things from smuggling runs - but otherwise it was exactly how you remembered it. Not that you’d ever spent much time here. You liked to avoid Joel and Tommy seemed to like to avoid him even more than you did when you were around. You’d slept here a few times, when Joel was outside the QZ but Tommy had stayed behind, but he was much more likely to be at your place than his. 

But this room was all but a shrine to him. Or maybe more of a mausoleum, something left in memory of someone who was gone and would never be back. You hadn’t really realized how much you’d missed your friend until you were back in his space, surrounded by his things. 

You also realized that, in reality, you didn’t have a ton in common. Tommy’s book collection was… lacking. He had a few tattered Tom Clancy novels and you settled on one that you were pretty sure he’d brought over to your place once or twice. 

It wasn’t really your thing, though, and you were desperately bored. You were going to have to emerge from the room eventually to do more than pee and refill your water bottle in the bathroom sink. You were almost out of the jerky you’d packed for your trip outside the QZ and you’d never been very good at sitting still with nothing to occupy your mind. 

But you’d need to check on Joel’s injury at some point, anyway. Because looking at the ex who seemed to mostly hate you but apparently flew off the handle at the thought of you getting shot. 

Which you didn’t fully understand. If anyone asked you, you’d have sworn up and down that Joel would shoot you in the street if it wouldn’t make his life harder. You were surprised he hadn’t all but tossed you to an infected in the years you’d been going outside the QZ but the fact that you did things like pull bullets out of him and stitch Tess’ knife wounds closed was apparently a good enough reason to keep you alive. 

You didn’t see how that was a good enough reason to keep you from leaving his apartment when the two of you were about to be locked down for who the fuck knows how long. What were you supposed to do with… well, any of it? 

Your head dangled over the edge of the bed when you spotted a ratty tennis ball in the corner. You tumbled off the bed and picked it up, oddly grateful to have something to function as a distraction and started bouncing it off the wall, catching it out of the air when it bounced back at you. 

“The fuck you doing?” Joel called at you from the other side of the wall. 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Keeping myself from being so bored that I jump out a window.” 

He was quiet for a minute. 

You threw the ball again. 

“It’s annoying.” 

You caught the ball and then threw it. 

“Should’ve sent me off with FEDRA then.” 

For a moment, you thought that might be the end of it. And then the door opened. 

He’d gotten changed, at least, his new shirt as clean and intact as you could really find in the QZ and he looked a little pale. You looked him in he eye and you threw the ball again. 

“You tryin’ to piss me off?” He asked, one arm propped against the door frame. 

You shrugged and caught the ball. 

“You just make it so fun…” 

You threw the ball again and he came and snatched it out of the air. You glared at him. 

“Are you trying to make me miserable?” You asked. “Because it’s getting really old…” 

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” He snapped. “Think I decided to come find you in my brother’s bed because it’s fun…” 

“Oh will you stop fucking harping on that?” You shoved off the bed and stalked over to him in the doorway. “It’s ancient history! Think it’s time to get over the fact that your brother decided to pick up your broken toy…” 

“You think that’s why I’m pissed?” He asked, brows raised. 

You ignored him, dropping to your knees and yanking his shirt up. He stopped breathing and you checked his wound before getting to your feet. 

“In a few hours I’ll change your dressing,” you said, looking up at him as you stood almost shockingly close to him. You could see the pulse in his throat. “Leave me alone until then.” 

He clenched his jaw, looking you up and down, before storming off, yanking the door shut behind him. 

Day 2 

You waited until you heard the bathroom door close before you emerged. You were officially out of jerky and sitting in a room full of Tommy’s things while being sharply aware that he was thousands of miles away from you was wearing on you fast. You needed something - anything - to distract you. 

So you darted to the kitchen, grabbed a bag of jerky, and paused on your way past Joel’s room, his door cracked open. If you were quick…

You opened the, the hinges creaking, and ducked inside. 

It was neat, orderly. Like you remembered it being years ago when you were together. There were little signs of him everywhere, enough that you’d have recognized the room as his even if you’d walked into it in a strange place a thousand miles away. Little carvings on the window sill, the watch you’d helped Sarah picked for his birthday gift on the nightstand, a cracked Springsteen CD case sitting next to a worn boom box. You resisted the urge to touch the booklet and see if it fell open to a specific page, if you could tell what he’d been looking for when picking that album. 

Instead, you went to the bookshelf that was collapsing, worn boards sagging between cinderblocks. You recognized Joel’s taste in books, a little more in line with your own. You found a Cormac McCarthy book you hadn’t read with a spine that looked comfortably warn and pulled it, almost reverently, off the shelf. 

“The hell you doin’?” 

You jumped, almost dropping the book and the bag of jerky. 

“Sorry…” 

“I say you could come in here?” 

He was standing in the doorway in pajamas, his pants slung low on his hips, t-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders. 

“I am bored out of my mind,” you said, squaring your jaw even though you knew you shouldn’t be in his room. “I got desperate.” 

“You think that’s a reason to just waltz in…” 

“No, but…” 

“Sure acting like it!” 

“Is hating me fun for you?” You snapped. “Because it sure seems like it is! I don’t know why you’d work this hard at it if it wasn’t.” 

He looked you up and down for a moment. 

“Just get the fuck out of here,” he stepped to the side and you ducked around him, all but running back to the room you’d claimed as your own. 

You settled in on the bed with your new book, resting it on your knees and trying to forget how mad Joel had been just because you dared set foot in his room, as though you didn’t live together once in another life. It had been so easy for him to forget. You’d been so easy for him to forget. 

You opened the book and tried to get absorbed in the story but were having a hard time focusing, shifting around on the bed and hoping that a more comfortable position might make it so you could let yourself fall into it. You were changing positions for the third time when something fell out of the book and flitted like a leaf down to the worn quilt. You frowned, picking it up and turning it over in your hands. 

It was a picture. A picture of you. 

“What?” You whispered to yourself, eyebrows knitting together. 

It was a photo you recognized. Derek had it in his bedroom and he’d taken it without you knowing. You were folded into an armchair in his living room, a book in your hands, hair wild with a ribbon in to keep it out of your face. When he’d developed the photo, you remembered the day he’d taken it. One of the few that you had off from both jobs in the QZ. It had been warm that day, you hadn’t bothered to put on a bra or even pants, sitting around Derek’s place in a pair of his boxers and a tank top. He’d fucked you that morning, before it got too hot, and the two of you spent the day not moving much otherwise, not wanting to spend hours sticky with sweat and miserable. 

The day stuck out to you, though, not because of the heat or because you got to spend it somewhere besides the clinic or the school. Instead, it was because it reminded you of summer days in Austin with Joel. Trying not to run the AC too much, you sat far apart on the couch wearing as little as possible with Sarah coming and going from the house with friends. He would bring you glasses of ice water or lemonade almost every time he got up, his lips finding your forehead when he pressed the cold glass into your palm, his large hand finding your ankle because he had to be touching you in some way without making both of you miserable in the heat. 

And now Joel had a picture from that day, the one where he’d been on your mind the whole time, so much that you’d given up on trying not to think of him. 

You weren’t sure how he’d gotten it. Derek may have given him a copy if he’d asked but you didn’t know how he knew it existed. And why would he want a copy in the first place? 

You looked a little closer at it, the corners curling, edges peeling. Like it had been held a lot. There was a discolored almost halo around the edges of you, like someone had been tracing over the outline of you over and over again. 

There was a sharp knock on your door and you stuffed the photo into the book again. 

“What?” You asked, tone softer than it had been when speaking to Joel in years. 

“Mind checkin’ this damn wound?” He asked through the door, his voice oddly gentle. “Since you’re here and all. Make yourself useful.” 

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, of course. No problem.” 

You made sure the photo was tucked away and set the book on the nightstand, keeping your fingers crossed that Joel didn’t realize which book you’d taken. 

***

Joel didn’t like that you’d taken to hiding in Tommy’s old room. 

He didn’t like that you were still here. Or so he tried to tell himself. Really, he didn’t like that you were still here without being here, like you were the ghost in his house in the same way it seemed you’d spent most of the last decade. You were just more corporeal now. 

He was used to you crossing his mind all the time. Used to the feeling that, any second now, you’d come around the corner as you finished braiding your hair or with a little bottle of nail polish in your hand or a book in fucking French tucked below your arm. He knew what to do with that. 

He didn’t know what to do with you actually here, in such close quarters. Especially not when you seemed to find such comfort in just the memory of his fucking brother - his brother who had damn near gotten you killed - and not Joel, who was actually here. 

Joel stared down the hall at Tommy’s - your - door. His wound ached. You’d checked it earlier, said there was no sign of infection and that things were coming along well. You refreshed his bandages and he’d try not to think about the way the soft skin of your arm felt when you brushed against his exposed flesh. 

That had been hours ago. He hadn’t heard a word from you since, not even the squeak of the mattress as you shifted and moved in ways he knew so well but couldn’t see. 

He shoved himself to his feet with a pained grunt and went to the door, the one that seemed to fucking haunt him now. He knocked once. 

“Yeah?” 

Your voice sounded thick. 

“Want a drink?” He asked. You were quiet. He pressed on. “Figured it was better than drinkin’ alone.” 

He gave you a minute and was about to give up on you responding when he heard small creaks on the other side of the door before it opened. 

“Whatcha got?” 

It took a few whiskeys before you stopped being quite so stiff at his kitchen table and Joel pulled out a deck of cards that had to have been old before the world fell apart but had somehow managed to stay complete. 

“Game’s Gin,” he said, dealing. “Remember how to play?” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m not a total idiot, Miller.”

It was strange, drinking around you. Spending time with you in ways that weren’t required, being able to look at you in ways beyond brief, desperate glances driven by the subconscious need to never, ever forget just how you looked. The precise way your eyes were shaped or your brow arched or lips curved, the exact shade of your skin and your hair and your eyes. Because as much as he didn’t want to need these things, he did. He needed to know these parts of you the way a scholar needed to know his subject, with this obsessive, aching drive for more. 

It had never been enough before, the little pieces he was able to collect when you and Tess were distracted with other things and he could take in the new way your skin creased around your eyes, and it somehow wasn’t enough now, memorizing the way you pursed your lips as you organized your hand and the way your hair had fallen out of the braid that was tight against your skull. 

“Need somethin’ to change into?” Joel asked eventually. 

“Hm?” You looked at him over your cards. 

“Just…” he nodded to you. “Still wearin’ what you were when we came back from the run. Need somethin’ to change into?” 

“Oh,” you looked down at yourself and then shrugged. “I mean, I won’t argue with it but I don’t want to put you out. It’s not like anyone’s getting close enough to smell me. Oh God, please tell me you can’t smell me from across the table…” 

“No, Kid,” he laughed a little and took a sip of whiskey. “Can’t… can’t smell you.” 

He wondered if, below the grime of the world outside, you still smelled like lavender. 

“If you’ve got some stuff I can borrow then,” you shrugged before grabbing a card. Your face lit up a bit and you set a card down before fanning out your cards in front of you. “Gin.” 

“Well shit,” he said, looking over your cards. “You win.” 

Day 3 

He left you something to wear outside your door. 

Joel stared at the wall most of the night, telling himself it was because the fucking bullet hole was hurting more than it had been but that was bullshit. It had faded to a dull pain, one that was easily tolerable and certainly not enough to keep him up at night. 

No, instead he stared at the wall that he knew you were just beyond. His mind went over and over your face again and again, logging every single facet so he’d know the next time he was away from you for a while. But that wasn’t enough, either. He wanted to hear you breathing as you slept, wanted to salt away that information, too. He needed it, needed to add it to his collection of you. 

But you were out of reach. Asleep in his brother’s bed, the place where you’d chosen to be all those years ago and now left Joel wondering if you’d ever really left. If you’d ever have chosen Joel at all or if he’d just been a stop gap, a thing keeping you from Tommy all this time. 

It would have made sense, when he considered it. You were always softer and more open than Joel, always more like Tommy in that way. Maybe all he’d ever been was a placeholder. 

He was still awake when he heard you get up in the morning, heard you pause at the door before going to the bathroom and starting the shower. 

He hoped he’d find your hair in his shower later. 

Your hair was down and wet when you emerged, cautiously coming into the kitchen where Joel was making the shittiest excuse for coffee with instant packets that had expired so long ago it seemed like a miracle there was anything usable at all. You were in one of his flannels and sweatpants, the legs cuffed so you wouldn’t trip, your arms crossed tight over yourself. 

“Morning,” you said, glancing at him like he was a predator and you were prey. 

“Morning,” he said. “Feelin’ better?” 

“Yes, actually,” you said. He held a mug out to you and you took it with a slight frown. “Thank you.” 

He just nodded stiffly. 

“If you want to lie down,” you nodded toward the couch. “I can check your dressings again. The good news is, this might be the last time I really need to do it so…” 

Joel shrugged and obeyed, trying not to think about the sense of panic that flared in his chest at the thought of you not touching him anymore. 

It was something Joel had found almost impossible to hold within himself. There was this constant yearning, a pull towards you that was as persistent as gravity and twice as strong. He needed to be close enough to touch you, hold you, protect you. He needed to be close enough to love you. 

But standing in sharp contrast was the cold threat of you. The painful grip of it always there at the edges when he lived too long in the memory of loving you. It was a cruel and constant thing - one of the few constants Joel had found in his life in the QZ. He could let his mind wander to the memory of you asleep in his arms but, linger there too long, and the memory shifted to you pale and bleeding and nearly dead as he ran with your broken body to the clinic. The thought of you laughing all full and free with your hand on his chest would twist into you reaching for him and screaming as you were dragged away by raiders. Hell, spend too long trying to savor the memory of being deep inside you, the look on your face as you came undone under his touch, and his mind pulled him down into what McCarthy had described doing to you years ago. 

All it took was a second, a moment of Joel not protecting you when he should and you could wind up there again. He didn’t know how to live with that. He wasn’t sure he’d ever figured out how to live with loving you at a distance, either. Something that had become harsh and clear in the days the two of you had been locked down in his apartment. 

“This is looking good,” you said, nodding to yourself. Your hands were on his stomach.  “Think I can trust you not to fuck it up from here, don’t need me messing around with it anymore…” 

You got up and held your hand out, helping Joel sit up without pulling too much at his wound. 

“Thanks,” he said. “For making sure I don’t drop dead.” 

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged. “It’s what I do.” 

You gave him a tight smile and went back down the hall, Joel frowning after you for a moment before following. He knocked on the door and he heard you sigh before opening it a few seconds later. 

“Yes?” 

“Don’t…” Joel realized he didn’t really have a good reason to be standing at your door. “Don’t have to keep hidin’ in here. Sure you’re going stir crazy… Just come out here and…” 

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” You asked, brows raised. “We’ve managed to not kill each other so far, I don’t know that we want to push it.” 

“You really think being in the same room is gonna be pushing it?” 

You laughed a little and crossed your arms protectively over yourself. 

“Honestly? Yeah, kind of. I mean, Joel, come on. This is the most time we’ve spent together just the two of us since my first trip outside the QZ and we both know how that ended…” 

“Yeah,” Joel scoffed, his blood getting hot as he saw you standing there, in his brother’s room, next to his brother’s bed. “Ended with you hating me and jumping into bed with my fuckin’ brother…” 

“Jesus Christ, you cannot be serious,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Joel…” 

“What?” He propped an arm against the door frame, holding himself back from stalking into Tommy’s old room like he wanted to. “That not what fuckin’ happened? You all but disappear for months and the next thing I know you’re with him. What was it, hm? Was I just who you settled for because you thought he wasn’t interested? That it?” 

“No!” 

“You just waitin’ for a chance to…” 

“I was only with him because you left!” 

You yelled it at him. You so rarely yelled, usually so measured and soft and kind in damn near everything you did. He went quiet, the silence hanging heavy between you. 

“Do you think I was interested in him before?” You asked, quieter this time. “It was always you, Joel. From the day I met you, it was always you and you’re the one who left me. You’re the one who made me live without you after you made me love you and you don’t get to judge me for what I did to survive you hating me. Yeah, I probably fucked up with Tommy, by having him be anything more than a friend but I was so alone because you made me be so alone! You left me, Joel! I’m sorry I didn’t sit there and wait for you to decide you gave a shit again, I’m sorry I tried to find some semblance of a life without you because losing you was going fucking kill me if I didn’t! So stop holding Tommy against me, stop blaming me for what I had to do to survive losing you, what I’m still doing to survive losing you, because out of all the shitty things that have happened in my life that might just be the worst one!” 

Your eyes were shiny with tears and you were standing closer to him than he’d really realized until that moment and his hands were on your skin before he fully understood what he was doing. All he knew was he needed to touch you, feel you, taste you. 

His lips were on yours and swallowed the small, surprised squeak that slipped from you as he kissed you, mouth hot and needy against you. 

He’d expected you to push him back, to be mad or hurt. Instead, you threw your arms around his neck, body curving and arching into his. Your fingers tangled and knotted in his hair and you pressed yourself so tightly against him that he could feel every line of you through his clothes. 

“Joel,” you pulled away from him ever so slightly, sounding needy and breathless. “We shouldn’t do this…” 

“Why.” 

“We don’t work,” you tugged him closer but kept your lips from him. “We just hurt each other. And you have Tess, I have Derek, it’s not…” 

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he cut you off, his eyes searching yours. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” 

For half a moment, Joel thought you were going to. But you didn’t. Instead, you kissed him again, a sense of urgency on your lips, like you were trying to devour him and he longed for you to swallow him up until there was nothing left. 

He pulled you into the hall, pressing you back against the wall and ignoring the pain at his hip when he did. In that moment, he didn’t care if it killed him. He needed to be inside you, to feel you close and tight around him. Being without you now would be a more painful end than ripping himself open inside, what difference did a bullet hole make? 

Joel pushed his leg from his uninjured side between your knees, shoving them apart and pulling your hips down on his thigh. You ground down against him and moaned into his mouth as you worked your core on his leg. 

“Fuck,” you breathed, pulling ever so slightly away from him, your pupils blown and lips swollen. “Joel, you’re hurt, we shouldn’t…” 

“Don’t care,” he pressed his mouth to your throat, earning him a delicious moan that hung in his ears like syrup on the tongue. “Need you, Baby. Need you so fuckin’ bad…” 

You clutched yourself closer to him, rocking your hips on him as he pulled you back from the wall and maneuvered you to his room, his bed, the place he woke up every day and looked for you, some part of his subconscious knowing that he belonged next to you. 

Your fingers pulled at his shirt, tugging it up and over his head before casting it aside and he nudged you onto the bed, taking his shirt off your body, too. 

“Joel…” you were sitting back on your elbows, the soft fullness of your chest bared to him as he crawled between your legs. “I can’t… I can’t do this and go back to being nothing to you, Joel, I can’t…” 

He looked in your eyes, a pain in them that he found sadly familiar now but it was harsher than he was used to, like you couldn’t keep it contained now so it was laid bare. 

“Oh, Baby,” he breathed, his hands finding your waist. You closed your eyes at his touch, breath catching in your throat. “You’re everything to me, everything. Always have been.” 

His lips moved to your throat, kissing and biting at the tender skin there as he pulled your pants down and off, you lifting your hips to help before putting your hand down his front to take hold of his cock with a moan. Joel moaned, too. He couldn’t help it, your touch was burned into his memory, what he longed for more than anything else and you were touching him. Your thumb grazed the head of his cock and he shuddered at the contact, whole body on fire with aching and desperate want. 

“Need you,” he panted into your lips. “Fuck, need inside you…” 

“Good,” you pressed your body against his and he felt his head graze your soft mound. “Because I need you, too. Never stopped…” 

He kissed you and pushed you into the bed before pressing his cock into your wet heat. You moaned as you took him into yourself, your back arching. You were so warm and tight around him, Joel had to focus to not come from just the feel of your body clutching onto him. 

“Goddamn,” he looked down to where he was buried in you to the root, your fingers sinking into his bicep as you panted for breath. He could feel you breathing, feel your heartbeat from inside you. Why had he wasted so much of his life fighting this when he could have been with you instead? In that moment - when he was buried deep inside of you and he could feel you everywhere, in everything - the fear he’d been so desperately fighting against faded to nothing. There was just you and everything you held, the whole of all his wanting looking up at him in quiet desperation. “Forgot… forgot just how good you feel, holy fuck.” 

“Need you to move,” your nails dug into his arm. “Fuck, please Joel, need you to move, please…” 

He wasn’t about to say no, even as your already tight walls clenched around him. He dropped his head to your chest and pulled out of you almost entirely, until just his head was left within you, before thrusting back in hard and deep. He kissed you again as he did, swallowing your needy sounds. 

Joel tried to hold back, the echo of some pain in his body and his mind, but he was too overwhelmed by you for it to last long. You met his every thrust, working your hips back up against his own as he fucked into you. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you wrapped one arm around his shoulders, digging your fingertips into his skin as he felt you getting so tight around him it almost hurt. “Fuck, I’m gonna… Joel, I’m gonna come, I can’t…” 

“Do it,” he slid an arm below your waist and pulled you tight and flush to his body, needing to feel as much of your skin as he possibly could. “Come for me, come for me, Baby, need to feel you, have to feel you, fuck Baby…” 

You whimpered and keened as your tight channel pulsed around his thick cock, squeezing him so tight it was like your body was pulling his own orgasm out of him. 

“I’m comin’ Baby,” he pressed into you deep and hard and you clung to him as he came undone, emptying himself into you. “I’m comin’, fuck, I’m comin’ so fucking hard, Goddamn…” 

He collapsed on top of you, his cock still twitching inside you. He couldn’t remember the last time he came that hard, felt quite that drained when he was done. His head rested on your chest, your heartbeat heavy against his cheek as your fingers trailed through his hair and his cock softened inside you. 

“Fuck,” he was still panting for breath when he pressed a kiss to your breast bone and slid from your body, the pain at his hip suddenly back with a vengeance, as he collapsed beside you. 

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you said quietly, turning your head to look at him. 

“Baby…” 

“We shouldn’t,” you said, your voice thick. “You’re hurt…” 

“Good think you’re a doctor.” 

You glared at him. 

“We just blew up our entire lives, Joel,” you said quietly, eyes wet. “I’m with Derek and I just fucked you because, what, you loved me once and felt bad letting me get shot in the QZ? This was stupid, this was so…” 

“No,” he shook his head. 

“No?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “No what?” 

“No to all of it,” he said. “I didn’t blow up a damn thing. I just finally was able to admit to myself that there isn’t anything to blow up without you, don’t want any of it without you.” 

“Joel…” 

“Been too scared of it all to admit that,” he pressed on. “But I can’t keep living like that, Baby. I can’t. And I don’t think you can, either.

“We’ve already wasted too much damn time,” he continued. “But I’m not wasting another minute of it, not when I could be with you. Not sayin’ there’s not shit to figure out - pretty sure we got a decade’s worth of it - but don’t ask me to waste more time. Please. Not when it comes to you.” 

Your eyes held his as you reached a hand forward and carefully, delicately, cupped his cheek, your thumb tracing his cheekbone. He brushed his lips against the inside of your wrist, feeling the flutter of your pulse against his mouth. 

“Think we can figure it out?” You asked. You sounded so uncertain, so afraid. 

Joel’s large hand covered your own, holding you against his chin. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “With you, think we can figure anything out.” 

[abrcmswrld]

Talk to Strangers

Edward Nashton x Coworker! Reader

━━━━

Word Count: 4,951

Warnings: smut (18+ only MDNI), stalking, unprotected sex, angst and fluff and smut, a decent bit of tears, obligatory mentions of murder

Summary: You’ve warmed up to Edward despite his cold nature, but what happens when the puzzle pieces start to fall together and you can feel someone watching you in the darkness?

Authors Note: I actually tried so hard on this yall, I posted this to my ao3 page first so I am sorry if the formatting is all kinds of messed up on here :( This is my first fic i’ve posted since 2017 so I sincerely apologize if it’s meh, i also don’t have anyone else proofread my fics so i apologize for any errors i missed! enjoy!

Ao3 Link

He's arrogant. Oh so arrogant, and you can't fucking stand it. You watch him every morning as he strides in, past your desk at reception, white button up shirt, clear framed glasses, shaggy hair that falls over his forehead . He's certainly not a hit among the office, so maybe you're not wrong in your feelings. Though your other co-workers generally regard him as a pushover- not a self-absorbed asshole. He's good at what he does, sure. He's earned his spot, but he often brings a shadow into the rooms he walks into. A presence that you can only describe as infernal.

You don’t know much about his story. You generally pride yourself on getting to know the people you surround yourself with, but he has never let you get close enough to find out. Maybe that’s why you find him arrogant. He thinks he’s too good to speak to you for more than two sentences related to files he needs you to fax for him. What you do know about him is that he’s been at KTMJ for longer than you have been- maybe 5 years more. You can still remember the first time you met. You were fresh faced and eager. Seeking validation, in desperate need of some stability.

You extend your arm for a handshake. His hands are slightly clammy as he accepts your handshake. And though you had greeted him with your brightest smile (might as well go all in if you ever wanted to be anything other than a receptionist) he hadn't smiled back. He'd kept a rather straight face as he gave his brief introduction. "Edward."

Now you have a sense of stability. Sure, the quality of life in Gotham is subpar and you still haven't received that promotion, but you make enough to live comfortably in comparison to others in the city. You try to count your blessings.

━━━━

You had already been having a shitty day. Your landlord had informed you of an increase in rent rates by slipping an envelope under your door. Sure, it sucked to be asked to pay more for an apartment that could be deemed shitty by any normal person with a pair of eyes, but it was the lack of communication that got you. Not even the decency to call your residence and tell you with their own voice. Just a slip of paper under the door.

But you tried to bring a good attitude to the office. You hate being the one to damper the mood. You would rather leave that to him. Always him. Never smiling back at you as he walks through the door, never meeting your eyes to acknowledge your presence, nothing. And you were used to that. It would be okay, if it weren't for the stack of papers that laid on your desk when you got in. Neatly stacked with a green sticky note reading "Need copies. -Edward" scrawled in messy handwriting. You immediately feel the flames rise into your chest.

It's a quick stride from your desk to his cubicle, stack of papers tightly tucked into your fist. You slam them onto his desk as soon as you reach it, and he raises an eyebrow at you in response. "What the hell is this?" He glances at the papers and back at you. "The copier isn't working. I wrote what I needed." You sigh, annoyed at the fact that he doesn't understand.

"You couldn't have waited for me to get here and brought them to me yourself? I would really appreciate it if you would treat me like a human being every once in a while, ya know, actually acknowledge my existence." You realize how dramatic you must sound, but in all honesty you've been thinking it for years, it was only a matter of time before it came out. "I needed copies. I didn't think my acknowledgement meant that much to you." He holds his hands out in defense, feigning that he actually cared if he had hurt your feelings.

"I think you think you're smarter than everyone else here." You plant a hand on the table in front of him as you crouch to his level.

He sighs and you can see the corners of his mouth twitch. "I do. Is that so bad?"

"It makes you an asshole."

He finally faces you.

"Better to be an asshole than to be an idiot."

His voice doesn't carry any malice, yet the words feel like a slap in the face to you. It leaves you scrambling for a response, opening your mouth only to close it a second later. Until you decide to merely respond with a nervous chuckle. Sure, you thought his response showed his ego, but you had to admit. He got you. He faces you once more at the sound of your light chuckle, green eyes meeting yours completely. "I guess you're right."

You catch the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

"If it means that much to you, I will greet you next time."

━━━━

And he does. Greet you that is. You find yourself talking to him more and more. Sitting in the break room with him at lunch, looking over his shoulder at the crossword puzzle he works on at his desk and giving your best shot at an answer, relishing in the furrow of his brows as he turns to look over his shoulder at you. He's an asshole. He's arrogant. But there's something about him that's drawing you in. Sometimes you feel like a fish caught in a net. All those moments he'd brushed you off and yet you find yourself repeating the little quirks of his soft smiles in your head. You hate the term "work husband", but it seems that Edward is slowly becoming the very definition of that.

You don't speak outside of the office, but you find yourself gravitating towards him when you're stressed. You tell him about your landlord and the reason you had gotten so defensive with him. He understood.

"It's a cesspool here. None of these people actually care about people like us, not the landlords, not our coworkers, certainly not the politicians." He had said in that moment.

As October rolls around and the leaves begin to fall, you find yourself beginning to bring two coffees to work, one for you, one for him. He always shows an appreciative nod. But the moment you start to think about asking him to actually go out with you for coffee is like being the fish pulled out of the water and accepting it's inevitable fate. You were gonna let him drive you insane.

You're sure of it as you are caught up in the nerves and find yourself softly grabbing his hand to stop him outside the front doors of the office. You quickly pull your hand from his. no doubt blushed a deep red. But he just stares, waiting for you to speak. You clear your throat. "I- um- Sorry, I was just gonna see if you had plans now." And it pains you the way he doesn't speak, just continues to stare.

"There's a diner on the corner near here. I think they have decent pie."

He loosens the tension in his shoulders and looks down. "Oh. I'm actually sort of drowning in... paperwork right now." He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. God, you hoped you hadn't made him uncomfortable. "I'm sorry."

You quickly shake your head and let out a breathy laugh. "Oh no! It's totally fine, I probably have paperwork to finish too." You hope it hides the pang you feel in your chest. "I'll see you tomorrow." You swiftly turn and walk away before he can respond.

━━━━

But you wouldn't see Edward tomorrow. Matter of fact you wouldn't see him for the next three days after Halloween. You try not to let it bother you.

It's the beginning of a cold November, he's probably just sick or desperately needed a vacation. Or perhaps you'd seriously fucked it all up and he couldn't even stand the sight of you. You can't stop the deep sigh that comes from you as you rest your forehead in the palm of your hand. Embarrassingly, you ask Zach if he's heard from Edward. Not that you expected him to be particularly helpful. "Are you guys, like, fucking?" You are stunned and stammering your words. "Wha- No! No. I just worry about him."

"Look, I wouldn't worry about him too much, I mean the guy's basically a fucking recluse. When do you ever see him outside of here? Maybe it's good that he's somewhere besides here."

Still, there's no chance of you actually focusing on work and you find yourself aimlessly scrolling through news headlines, before one in particular catches your eye.

'Mayoral Incumbent Donald Mitchell, Jr. Murdered in his Home on Halloween Night.'

Holy shit.

━━━━

Edward is back at work after three long days, and despite your worry of his annoyance and anger, he is oddly elated.

It's the first time he approaches your desk. Leaning against it, coffee cup in hand, and flashing an awkward smile before asking, "So did I miss anything?" It leaves you a little taken aback, but it's a relief to see him approach you willingly after your last conversation.

"Um yeah, Zach was a total prick as usual- Oh! And our mayor was murdered."

He raises an eyebrow and takes a sip from the coffee cup. You feign annoyance, "No but seriously where were you? I started to wonder if that psychopath got you too."

He smiles. "Just sick. November weather and all."

━━━━

The first time you see the green mask you are in a huddle of coworkers around a computer screen.

'Police Commissioner, Pete Savage, Murdered. Killer Leaves Shocking Confession.'

"My God. What a sick freak." Zach interjects.

You can barely stand to watch. The video is hardly graphic aside from the disturbing voice of the masked man, but the implications of what happens when the video cuts off leaves your stomach turning. You walk away. Desperate for some space, but also desperate for a distraction. Edward sits straight in his office chair across the room. You hesitate slightly before striding toward his desk and leaning your weight against it. You can feel the sweat beading at your forehead as you lightly brush hair from your eyes. "Shit."

It's merely a whisper to yourself, but he turns his head to face you. For once his face shows concern towards you. Yet he still says nothing, only looks. Observant as always.

"Sorry. I needed to get out of that." You gesture towards the group of coworkers still huddled and murmuring among each other. He glanced back, before turning back towards his work. "The news?" He inquires quietly.

"Yeah. It's a little too much for me to stomach." There's a little pause as if he is hesitant to say anything before finally replying, "They were pricks. Don't you think they kind of deserved it?"

You straighten up, looking at him with shock. "I think they were still people with families." He frowns at you before you finally walk away from his desk to make your way to the restroom. You needed to get a grip.

━━━━

Edward apologizes for his insensitivity after work. You had stayed with him outside of the building long after all of your other coworkers had left. "It's fine." You refuse to look at him as he lights a cigarette and gets in a few quick puffs. You're being mean. But if you're honest the combination of his rejection and his comment earlier in the day had set you off. "And I'm sorry for last week." Only then you look up at him.

"I've had a lot going on, and it feels a little unfair to bring you into all of that."

"This feels like an excuse to let me down easy. It's okay if you just don't want to go on a date-"

The feeling of chapped lips on your own stops you mid sentence. He tastes of coffee and cigarettes and you crave more, but he pulls back quickly. His free hand remains at your cheek, holding your face in a gentle caress. "It's not an excuse. Things are just complicated for me right now." His eyes never leave your face. It's the best look you've gotten of them. Of him. His features are gentle behind shaggy hair and acetate glasses.

Something feels wrong and eerie in the back of your mind. Like seeing him this close gave you a sickening feeling of deja vu. Things were definitely complicated. The bags under his eyes were showing his exhaustion well, he had gone from elated to unwell since his return. He seems like a broken man, but he'd never let you close enough to find out why. You can't help but feel the connection, like he deserved a shot even if he didn't want it. Even if he thought he was smarter. Even if there's a side to him that could hurt you. You push down your feelings of uneasiness.

You press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips.

"When you're ready."

━━━━

You're awake nearly all night the next weekend. Spending the entire time digging through news about the figure known as The Riddler, his possible next targets, possible identities, and most importantly all of the video footage he'd put out in the last few weeks. It's certainly not healthy. You generally steer clear of these sorts of things. Years of therapy had gotten you far and you would rather not ruin it by desensitizing yourself. But you can't help it. You find yourself going deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole until you find yourself tuning into his streams late at night.

He speaks with such a confidence in himself. As if he has all of the answers, and is just waiting to enlighten the world. His followers are even more terrifying. They'd do anything for him. You wonder how low a person must be in life to resort to this sort of behavior. But, you're not a psychiatrist. Who are you to speak on these people. These strangers.

"We are going to cleanse this cesspool of city."

You slam the laptop shut.

Sleeping isn't easy after this sort of activity. You should've known. You turn on a show you don't actually care about to give yourself some sense of security in background noise. And soon you find yourself drifting asleep. It's not great sleep. You can sense yourself tossing and turning, but you can deal with it. Everything is fuzzy until you find yourself on your back.

Paralyzed.

It's not uncommon for you to experience sleep paralysis, but you've experienced it less after your time in therapy. You try to keep your breathing steady, trying to convince yourself that whatever you see is merely a hallucination.

Shh. Shh. Just breathe.

But the figure that appears is familiar. That's what scares you the most. The green coat and mask is horrifying as it inches towards the bed, and you can't scream. you can't move away. You can only watch the blood drip from his gloved fingertips onto your floor as he stares. Tilting his head at you slightly, as he brings a hand up to his head. You can hear your heart pounding and you are practically internally begging yourself to wake up. The latches on his mask pop open and you're horrified to find that the face underneath is so familiar. A slight smirk on lips you have kissed before. Blood dripping from a hand that you've held before. You try to scream. Tears falling down your temples until he is suddenly gone and you shoot up in your bed.

You can't hold back the cry that escapes your throat. It wasn't real, he's gone, and you're safe in your room.

━━━━

Until suddenly the safety of your room begins to feel a lot less safe. You hear it. The creaking of the floorboards at night, the slight tapping against the glass of your bedroom window. The slight squeak of leather rubbing and rustling together. You're too scared to open your eyes those first few nights. You'd rather be blind and take your fate than die in paralyzing fear.

But you know it's him.

It was never unclear what was staring at you in the night. Maybe the nightmares of the leather gloves touching your skin hadn't been nightmares at all. You want so badly to be sickened. To run into your bathroom to empty your stomach out of panic and fear. Instead you feel a strange mixture of annoyance and arousal in your gut.

He thinks he's smarter than you.

You find yourself playing into his games.Attempting to one up him. To show him you aren't scared of him. That you can keep up. You begin to deliberately change in front of your window. Letting lacy fabric hit the cold floor and standing just a tad longer, stalling before covering yourself back up.

You hope he's watching when you peel off your work tights. You hope he's imagining himself on his knees tearing the delicate fabric from your form, only to be blocked by a thin pane of glass. You wanted the upper hand.

You hope he's watching as you sink two fingers into yourself, thinking about crisp, white button ups and clear framed glasses.

━━━━

The next few weeks are tense at work. You heard the news of what happened to Gil Colson at Don Mitchell's funeral. Edward would walk in everyday, and attempt to greet you, only this time it's you who is short. You have a little hope that he can't see straight through you. But you can see it in the way that he looks at you that you're an open book. Who's to say that he won't just watch, but actually kill you to keep you from talking. But deep down you both know your lips are shut tight.

So you work through the days, just ready to get home. You can hardly stand to look at him. It makes you feel like you're an accomplice. A sitting duck for a man who probably doesn't even care about you, withholding a tip to the police because deep down you really do like him. And you had hoped he liked you too until things got complicated. Now you think it would just be best if he abandoned you right where you were. But he doesn't. In fact, he suddenly has more courage than you'd ever seen from him. It's evident as he catches you by your arm and pulls you into the alleyway beside the office after work is over. It's dark and you'd be lying if you said you weren't scared, but he kisses you like nothing is wrong. Like he has no clue. Like nothing has changed.

You pull away from him, wide eyes staring back at him. "Are you okay?" He asks quietly as he brushes a hand up your arm. You can't help the break in your voice. "I know, Edward."

He just stands and stares. "What?" You take two steps back. "You're killing people." He continues to stare. He drops his hand from your arm. The silence scares you more than anything. But he simply sighs.

"I think you should go home and get some rest."

And before you can argue he walks away with a quickened pace.

━━━━

So you do. You return to your shitty apartment and try to compose yourself. What would he do now that you said that? Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you had accused him of something he genuinely didn't do. But it didn't feel wrong. You sigh as the hot water hits your back. You had hoped a shower would help you feel refreshed, but for the first time in a while, it feels like a chore. You can't enjoy it, so you rush through it. As you step into your bedroom you stop in your tracks. The window is slightly ajar, a cool draft flowing in tingles your bare legs. And then you see him. The figure in the darkness of your room. This time you're not dreaming.

He's in your room. You're paralyzed. The position you swore you'd never let yourself be put in. He's got the upper hand.

He just stands there. A part of you wishes he would attack you. Kill you. Anything just to break the still silence. You realize you're shaking. You agreed to play his game and now you're trailing his lead, allowing yourself to be beaten.

"Edward."

It comes out as a shaky whisper, but he visibly takes it in as he steps toward you to close the distance. You can see his eyes crinkle at the corners through the green mask. He's smiling. And he reaches a gloved hand to your face, cupping one cheek. You can feel the warmth radiating from his hand even through the glove. So, he is human. The Riddler has a beating heart and flowing blood. He is not a cold, lifeless monster. His stoic frame you had become so familiar with at work was gone. He catches a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

He is terrifying.

"No more through the window. I'll be gone soon."

Before you can entirely comprehend the statement and it's implications, your brain forms the word that leaves your mouth. "Gone?"

He simply smiles again, this time reaching his hands behind his head to abandon the mask he had come in with, and there he is. Cherubic features glowing under the street lamp light that flows in from your window. "I watched you live for a month. I watched you eat, sleep, undress, touch yourself. But you knew that right? Otherwise you wouldn't have put on such a show."

You attempt to struggle away from his grasp in disgust at his words but he holds you tight in front of him. "But that's alright. I'll tell you the truth because I hate liars. I liked knowing that you were doing it all for me. I wanted nothing more than to cleanse Gotham, to give them true salvation, but you put a dent into that plan. You became a distraction that I foolishly indulged." The soft light is hitting his features just right. He looks like an angel in devils' clothing. And his tight grip is right back to a gentle caress. His hand reaches the small of your back and you're sucking in a shrill breath.

His kiss is soft, inexperienced. Much like the other times you had kissed. But he is treating you like glass that might break. You think it might be the first time you've seen him relax enough to be seen as a particularly gentle being. He's ditched his looming, arrogant behavior you're so used to just to show you his utmost affection. It's the first time you have seen him like this since the first time you had kissed.

But some part of you is burning. He's not your prince charming. You know exactly what he is capable of, you've seen it. You're not glass. You're not a damsel. This is a man who has watched you undress for him through your window for weeks. This is a man who has killed. And it shouldn't bring heat into your core the way it does. Perhaps it's the thrill of the danger.

You kiss him so hard that your teeth clash. It stuns him as his hand lifts from your body momentarily before finding purchase at your hips. He's inexperienced, but the desperation coming from both of you is enough to cover it up.

The warmth and weight of his tongue in your mouth is intoxicating. The little sparks of guilt and shame that flash in your stomach are quickly subdued by his nimble fingers caressing under your nightgown and up your thighs to hook in the waistband of your panties. You can't help the pathetic moan that escaped your mouth as he slowly drags the fabric down your legs.

"I wanted to do it right. Wanted to take you to that diner, buy your food, take you home, and act like I hadn't thought about fucking you into your mattress every single night."

It's almost strange to see him on his knees. He has built himself up to be godlike. You were sure he wouldn't mind you on your knees in front of him. Absolutely worshipping him. The warmth of his tongue swiping over you has your thoughts lurching, and yes, god, he is divine.

"But it would be wrong to pretend to be someone I am not. I'm not a liar."

You can't help but tangle your fingers into his beautifully unkept hair and pull. He is ravishing you. Sinking two fingers into you until you feel the heavenly curl right into the spot that makes you whimper. "Eddie-" He swallows your moans in a desperate openmouthed kiss. His fingers are working you open, you can feel tightness build in your stomach. Like a rubber band ready to snap. But it's ripped away from you as he pulls his fingers out of you and swiftly pushes you to the bed. The sounds of his belt buckle coming undone has your heart racing faster than it already was, your stomach fluttering.

He buries himself inside of you with no hesitation, no time to adjust. It hurts and his inexperience is noticeable, but the look of bliss on his face and his slight whimpers has you ready to cum before you've even started.

You're gripping onto the back of the green leather parka, reminding yourself of who you're with. Who you're letting fuck you right now. But those green eyes bring you back to all those times he'd flash a slight smile your way in the office. He'd try to hide it but you're the only person he showed fondness towards in that hell hole of a workplace. Thinking back to the night he had kissed you has tears welling up in your eyes again. He notices.

He slows his pace momentarily, letting his short thrusts turn into long drags. A gloved hand wipes tears away once again and you meet his concerned gaze.

"Does this not make you happy?"

Your hands move to cradle his face. A move that he's certainly not used to as his thrust halt for a moment in surprise. "I am happy. But what comes after this? Am I supposed to ignore you and pretend I know nothing about you? That I feel nothing for you?" He stops his movements completely now. The room has fallen silent apart from the heavy breathing between you two.

"I have to mean nothing to you. Momentarily."

You knew the answer before you asked the question, but it hurts just as bad anyway. You don't take your eyes off his. The Riddler's facade is cracking before your eyes, you can see his eyes becoming glossy. It's almost like he's turned into a completely different person. He kisses you. Deeply, but not rough. There's so much pent up feeling behind it, you could sob even harder. But you don't and he keeps kissing you as he resumes his movements.

You're not using any protection, but you're too blissed out to care. You crave that feeling of warmth. "Eddie- I-"

His hips start to stutter as he cuts you off and buries his face in your neck. " I love you- please God- just say it back to me. Tell me you love me." You hold his face in your hands guiding his gaze to meet yours again. "Edward, I love you."

That's all it takes for him to fall apart. His whimpers and cries are like music to your ears and the feeling of warmth as he releases everything he has into you is blissful. You both have to take a second to recover, foreheads pressed together. But eventually he rolls off of you carefully and tucks himself back into his pants. The silence is deafening. You said it to push him over the edge, but was it true that you loved him? The idea of falling in love with Edward was easy in your mind, in a perfect world the idea of settling down somewhere else and waking up next to him felt good. But this wasn't a perfect world. Edward killed people, powerful people, and the chance that he'd get away without paying for it was slim.

"I'm gonna turn myself in in a couple of days."

"Okay."

"You should leave Gotham. It's not going to be safe for you here. If the cops ask you're visiting a friend in Bludhaven."

His hand grips yours as he looks at you.

"I promise if I ever get out, I'll find you."

━━━━

You do as he asked of you. Got a hotel in Bludhaven and in the next couple of nights you watched the television endlessly, waiting to see his face. The night you finally did, you cried yourself to sleep, gripping the hotel sheets as you buried your face into your pillow.

But you held yourself together and did as Edward asked.

When the man in the bat suit showed up at your hotel door a week after the flood you give your best answers.

"I'm visiting a friend, but the flood has kept me in town."

"No, I didn't know him well, we just worked together."

"I mean he was a little strange, but I never thought he would murder someone."

“I would never have expected it to be him.”

"I hope he gets the help he needs."

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph ! I do realise you get an enormous amount of requests, but I hope you'll find time to answer mine. I hope this hasn't been answered before ?

What are, in your opinion, the most in-character, and BBC accurate Johnlock fanfics you've ever read ?

I'm currently looking for something very canon-compliant, and I'm having a bit of trouble. Any length and rating will do !

Thank you for everything you do ! Your work for the Sherlock (especially johnlock/TJLC) has always been quite remarkable :)

Excellent day to you !

-Mea

Hi Lovely!

Thank you for your kind words, it's much appreciated!!!

As for in-character fics, I should state here that "in-character" is subjective to each individual, so my idea of "in-character" will be different from other people's!

That said, any of my fic recs on any of my Fic Rec Lists that aren't appended with MFL (because I haven't read them) could be considered what I call in-character, LOL. BUT if you want some of my faves, these will be the ones to start with:

I-J’s Last 50 Bookmarked Fics (June 2017)

Last 17 Bookmarked Fics (July 2017) 

Last 30 Bookmarked Fics (November 2017)

Last 86 Bookmarked Fics (Jan 2019) || [MOBILE]

Top 20 Fave 40K+ w. Fics (April 2017)

Ten Fave Short Johnlock Fics (Easy Reads April 2018)

25 Fave Johnlock One Shots (April 2018)

Top 10 Fave Fics (September 2018)

Top 20 Bookmarks of 2018 (March 2019)

Another Top 10 Fave Fics (June 2019)

Top 30 Read-Again Fics (March 2019)

Top 30 Read-Again Fics Pt. 2 (Sept. 2019)

Fave Read-Again Fics (10) (Dec 11/20)

Top 25 Fave Non-Ao3 Fics (Nov. 2019)

Top 25 Fave Non-Ao3 Fics Pt 2 (Apr 2022)

Top 25 Fave Non-AO3 Fics Pt 3 (May 2023)

Top 25 Bookmarks of 2019 (Dec. 29/2019)

Top 30 Bookmarks of 2020

Top 25 Bookmarks of 2021

Top 20 Bookmarks of 2022

Top 35 Bookmarks of 2023

Top 20 Comfort Fics (Feb 2022)

Top 30 Fave Angst Fics Under 10K

25 Fics for Fic Rec Bingo

10 Current Fave Multi-Fandom Fics (June 2023)

Alternate First Meetings (Canon-Feeling)

Sorry I can't be more specific, but I genuinely would be listing dozens of fics for you, LOL.

Let me know if there's anything else I can help you with, and again, I hope you enjoy your time here!!! *HUGS*

[tryingtodotheright-thing]

Hello, Sunset - 1

AN: So, the inspiration randomly came to me. I've never written with an unnamed character before and I haven't written fanfic since 2017. Bear with me and I appreciate all feedback. Not sure how long this is going to be but it will be multi-part.

Pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader

Genre: exes to lovers, idol verse, angst

Word Count: 1733

Warnings: reader has anxiety and depression, swearing

NEXT

Summer was coming to an end. This week was the season’s last gift; it was unusually warm, endless blue skies that you saw in paintings and sunsets that seemed to last all evening. Y/N had chosen to make the most of it, knowing this was her last moment to enjoy a little break in nature before life got busy again. She was always regretful when it got to the end of summer, wishing she’d spent more time outdoors, made the most of the good weather and just lived life a bit more fervently as she once used to. She didn’t quite know how to relax anymore. Even now, as she walked along the streets of London, she couldn’t quite slow down to a leisurely pace to admire the eclectic collection of shops that graced this particular street, hidden behind the famous streets of St James’s. Y/N called it being a Londoner, that you walked with purpose, always in a race to get to your next destination. Who had time to admire their surroundings when you had places to be? You definitely didn’t want to look like a tourist. 

Y/N had arrived early, one for the books since there were train strikes this weekend and she’d had to get a taxi to Wimbledon so she could take the District Line. She now had 30 minutes to waste before she could head to the restaurant, knowing that her perpetually late best friend wouldn’t arrive till at least 15 minutes after the reservation time. The sun was burning this afternoon and she knew that continuing to walk around without finding a spot of shade would just make things worse. She was parched and she’d forgotten to grab the bottle of water she’d prepared in her rush to check her doors were locked as the taxi waited for her. There was no choice but to fork up a fiver for a very expensive bottle of water in order to survive the heat. Making a swift decision, she turned around to head back to the main road. Walking briskly to escape the glares of the blazing star at its peak, she swiftly walked into Itsu. The air-conditioning inside the store gave her instant relief and she basked in it as she selected a bottle of water. After paying at the self-checkout till, she immediately opened the bottle to take a big gulp of the cold drink. Her thirst satisfied, Y/N walked out of the store and back into the heat of the summer. 

As she walked back towards the restaurant, Y/N tried to slow her steps, observing those around her. It was the summer bank holiday weekend, so it was the last hooray for many of the working population in the UK. There was a mix of tourists and locals: parents with their little ones for a family day out, young couples walking with their fingers intertwined  and rowdy teenagers in denial of schools restarting the next week. Time passed so quickly. She could remember being a teenager like it was yesterday but here she was in her last year of 20s, so different from her younger self when she was at the cusp of adulthood. So much had happened, so much had changed and yet sometimes she still felt a little like the insecure young woman who didn’t quite know where she fit in the vast world. Whoever said that with age comes wisdom was telling the biggest lie on earth. 

Lost in her thoughts, Y/N had arrived at the Japanese restaurant she was set to have her lunch at. The hostess greeted her and took her down the stairs and to the private room reserved. She looked around as she took her handbag off her shoulder and settled into her seat. The room was big enough to seat six people but it would be just Y/N and her friend, Rachel. She’d been at the restaurant exactly two years ago. That time, she’d been seated in the general restaurant then when Rachel had taken her out to celebrate Y/N’s new job. Y/N was no longer working at that company. In fact, Y/N had left the corporate world 15 months ago after suddenly landing in the spotlight. Speaking of said spotlight, the hostess had returned with chilled still water. She poured some water for Y/N before placing the bottle on a coaster. She hesitated to leave after Y/N thanked, struggling to decide whether to verbalise her thoughts or not. Taking a deep breath, she brought forward a framed picture. 

“Sorry to ask but would you mind please signing this picture? We’d love to display this in the restaurant.”

Y/N smiled and reached for the pen and frame, quickly writing out a message and a signature that still seemed unfamiliar to her. Returning the items back to the hostess, Y/N reassured the hostess it was no problem and posed for a photo too. Picture taken, the hostess thanked her again profusely before closing the door behind her, leaving Y/N to silence. 

Y/N sat back down in her chair and took her phone to check whether she had any messages from Rachel. Sure enough, there were three unread messages from Rachel. Yan Ya, called by all but her parents and grandparents as Rachel, was running late to no one’s surprise. Rachel was beautiful and graceful as her parents had hoped when they named her but her trouble with punctuality was a running joke between everyone who knew and loved her. 

After texting Rachel back to reassure her that she’d only just arrived, Y/N scrolled through the other notifications on her phone, mostly notifications from her public Instagram account that she swiped to ignore. She came across a message from her manager that she had received about an hour ago, asking Y/N to call her. Y/N was immediately nervous about what Sian would have to say. The urgency and the cryptic instruction with no context also didn’t help. Biting the bullet, Y/N pressed the call button at the top of the screen. Sian picked up on the second ring and immediately said, “Are you alone?”

The nerves that filled her stomach had now tripled and she could almost hear the padams of her heart go faster. 

“Yes, I’m in a private room at Ginza. What’s wrong?”

“Have you seen Twitter today? You’re trending right now.” Y/N could trace the panic hidden in Sian’s voice. “Dispatch posted a picture of you with him.”

Suddenly, Y/N could barely hear Sian as she continued talking. Her breaths were louder and she felt her anxiety soar as her throat dried up. 

“I can’t tell when it was taken but it’s so obviously the two of you. HYBE has put out a statement already denying a relationship and saying it was just two friends meeting for a meal. But Dispatch has made another post saying they have more pictures to prove that you’re in a relationship.”

Y/N took the glass of water the hostess had kindly poured for her earlier and took a sip, her hand clutching the cold glass and trying to focus on the condensation that surrounded the glass and counting in her head as she took a deep breath.

“Y/N, we need to put out a statement before HYBE to steer the narrative and protect you. You need to cancel whatever plans you have and head to my office. I’m ordering a car to pick you up from Ginza. It should be there in 5 minutes.”

Receiving no reply, Sian called out, “Y/N, are you there? Y/N?”

“Hmmm?”

Hearing the rushed breath and the breaking voice, Sian immediately softened her voice. “Honey, we can get this under control. It won’t be bad like last time. Okay? Trust in me and the company to protect you.”

“I don’t want things to get worse!” 

“It won’t, I promise. I’ve got you, okay? Take a deep breath for me, hun. That’s it. It’ll all be fine. We just need a plan, okay?”

Y/N meekly responded, nodding to no one as she tried to hold the tears back. The door behind her opened without a warning. Y/N flipped to find Rachel behind her with a bouquet of pink peonies. Rachel’s smile and cheery greeting grew to a stop as she noticed the crushed expression on Y/N’s face and the frazzled greetings from Sian as she tried to catch her attention again. Rushing into the room, Rachel wrapped one arm around Y/N and took Y/N’s phone from her tight clasp. 

“Sian, it’s Rachel. I'm with Y/N. What’s going on?”

“Oh, thank God! Rachel, there isn’t much time to explain. There’s a car outside Ginza waiting; it’ll take you to my office. I’ll explain everything once you get here. Look after Y/N and make sure no one sees her or definitely no pictures in the state she’s in. I’ll call the restaurant right now to settle the bill.”

Rachel, understanding the urgency of the situation, ended the call with Sian and quickly gathered their belongings. Making sure she’d taken everything, she turned to Y/N, who was still in shock. 

Rachel brushed Y/N’s hair away from her face and grasped her face to look at Rachel. 

“Hey, whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. Where’s my strong, independent and resilient Y/N?” 

“I don’t feel like any of those words right now.”

“No no no! We don’t do low confidence in this friendship when I know how amazing my friend is.” Y/N let out a shaken breath that was a mixture of laughter and tears.

Rachel quickly dabbed away the tears that fell and said, “Keep calm and carry on, as Mr Parry would say right?” 

This time, Y/N smiled hearing the favourite saying of her old biology teacher. Feeling better, she rubbed her hands on her skirt and stood up. 

“Right. Okay, let’s go.”

“That’s my girl!” Rachel cheered and looped her arm through Y/N’s. Pausing before the door, she turned to her left to look at her shorter friend and said, “And fuck anybody that tried to mess with you, especially one S.Coups!” 

With that said, Rachel opened the door and led the way out of the restaurant. 

[starvels]

Possessed by Light: An AI Tony Exchange - DAY 5 Fanworks!

It’s here! The labors of the participants of the AI Tony Exchange have come to fruition and it is the FIFTH day of exchange reveals!

Today’s revealed work is:

fic: do iron men dream of warm flesh? for @dirigibleplumbing

Tags: Transhumanism, Comic Book Science, Getting Together, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel, action/adventure elements, Coming of Age as an AI, Attempt at Humor, Philosophy, Existentialism, Time bullets, Identity Disability (sort of), tony is de-coma'd just before steve is de-HYDRA'd, Queer Themes, Civil War, Amnesia, Guilt, Betrayal, Post-Marvel Comic Event: Dark Reign (2008), Post-Marvel Comic Event: Secret Empire (2017)

Summary: The artificial intelligence called Tony Stark is in it way over his head. The “real” Tony Stark is isolating himself, trying to ignore his part in the Civil War and the Dark Reign that followed it; and Steve is falling into guilt over his part in the Secret Empire. Tony has no history, and his human counterpart has too much. Somewhere between them, there might be a way forwards—for all three of the men in this shitshow.

Please speculate wildly about the creators’ identities until Final reveals on Aug 30 (an update!) and remember to show your appreciation in the comments!

[gluion]

[part one] of boundaries and secret glances (i'm lucky to be loved by you) ➵ kim sunwoo

idol!kim sunwoo x ex-idol!reader

as a well-respected independent producer in the industry, you get requests from different companies for collaborations. when you accept to work on chanhee and sunwoo's unit track for their upcoming album, you are left to your own devices as you work closely with sunwoo. who is to say what can happen over the days?

genre/warnings ➵ strangers to friends to lovers (though sunwoo has always had a crush on you since your debut), music and lyrics au, fluff, angst with happy ending, afab reader (they/them pronouns), drinking, kpop mistreatment, mental and physical abuse done by companies, close proximity, sunwoo is a FLIRT!!! and also obsessed with you, LOONA IS FREE HERE!!!, iz*one sadly does not exist </3, boundaries are definitely crossed in the sense that you should not be flirting this much with a co-worker turned friend...

word count ➵ 15.7k words (30.3k words in total)

parts ➵ [1] [2]

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet

a/n ➵ this work has been in the making for a year or two. oftentimes, i find it hard to finish works or put them out since i find myself getting scared of how my works will be received. after reading this for how many times and adding final revisions, i am happy that i get to share this baby to the world! this fic is because of how much i love the movie "music and lyrics" and how i kind of fantasized myself and sunwoo in a similar context. thank you again for taking the time to read this. please note that idols shown or talked about in this fic are not meant to reflect my real thoughts on them. i love all the idols here in this fic (especially jiyoon) i would really appreciate it if you could take the time to like and reblog this.

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

1CON: Where Are They Now? By Lee Hyejin of Soompi 

It has been two years since South Korea's beloved group disbanded. Formed back in 2017 through Produce 101, 1CON has swept the hearts of many from pre-debut until disbandment. Yesterday, the members posted pictures on their SNS accounts that show their little reunion. This then sparked “1CON REUNION” to trend on Twitter.

To this day, many fans hope to see a reunion concert take place to see the members come together once again. As the public waits, we wonder where the members have gone off to.

The beloved center Shin Ryujin (Rank 1) and well-known dancer Lee Chaeryeong (Rank 9) of JYP Entertainment are part of the newest girl group ITZY whose unique sound has found its way to capture the hearts of many. As the group continues to conquer the K-Pop scene with their talents, they have become the pride and joy of JYP Entertainment.

Power vocalist Jo Yuri (Rank 2) parted ways with Off The Record Entertainment and worked on her solo debut under WAKEONE with the track “GLASSY.” With the number of music show wins gained, Jo will be one of the 4th Gen's well-known vocalists.

Captivating dancer Jeon Heejin (Rank 3) and charismatic vocalist Kim “Chuu” Jiwoo (Rank 5) made their debut back in 2020 with LOONA under Blockberry Creative. However, the members of the group have ended their contracts with the company because of the mistreatment they received.

Now, Jeon is a member of ARTMS with some of the former members of LOONA—Kim “Kim Lip” Jungeun, Jeong “Jinsoul” Jinsol, and Choi “Choerry” Yerim—under Modhaus. Chuu chose to pursue her solo endeavors under ATRP.

One of K-Pop's best 4th Gen vocalists, Kim Minjeong (Rank 4) of SM Entertainment, is rumored to make her debut in a girl group later in the year. While we can say not much at the moment, SM Entertainment has got everyone excited for their upcoming debut.

Jack of all trades, Shin Jiyoon (Rank 6) of Play M Entertainment, debuted back in 2020 with the group Weeekly. The group's upbeat and catchy music is produced by Shin herself. As Weeekly brings back cute concepts to the K-Pop scene, many people expect that “girl crush” will not be the norm.

Formerly under JYP Entertainment, well-known producer Y/N (Rank 7) is not signed with any company. As they work on their own terms and team, they have been releasing music on different platforms with full artistic freedom. Despite having no company, countless entertainment companies continuously contact them. They have worked with IU, Red Velvet, BIBI, Jamie Park, Pentagon, and more.

Lovable and powerful rapper Choi Yena (Rank 8) of Yuehua Entertainment recently made her debut with “SMILEY (Feat. BIBI)” whose catchy tune has trended all over Twitter. Many fans have commented that the concept is fitting for her debut. As she continues with her promotions, many fans wait to see her thrive in her solo career.

Along with that, opera-trained singer Huh Yunjin (Rank 10) of HYBE Entertainment is rumored to debut in the upcoming girl group with Produce 101 participants Kim Chaewon and Miyawaki Sakura. However, Huh has been actively posting original music and covers on different streaming platforms. As she continues to keep fans impressed with her talents, many people anticipate the debut of HYBE’s newest girl group.

Memorable vocalist Song Yuqi (Rank 11) of Cube Entertainment is part of (G)I-DLE who continues to release comebacks that showcase the uniqueness of the members. With tracks that will have you dancing and singing along, (G)I-DLE continues to showcase a different side to 4th Gen girl groups.

There have only been speculations and rumors surrounding a reunion concert for 1CON. All that can be said for now is that the members are in close contact with each other and working hard to continue dominating the K-Pop industry in their own ways.

“Y/N, you’ve got emails from H1ghr Music, AOMG, and THE L1VE. What would you like me to do with the other emails you’ve received from other companies?” Park Soeun, your manager, asks as she barges into your home office with her eyes trained on her iPad.

As she looks up, she takes in the sight; messy papers laid out on the table; knickknacks and souvenirs from 1CON members scattered all over the floor; you in your most devilish state whose hair is all over the place with clothes from yesterday. 

“God, Y/N. What in the world happened here?” Soeun asks as she picks up all the gifts from your ex-peers.

“It’s been so long since the girls and I got together, so we got kinda crazy last night.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t explain the mess in your office. Jesus… Y/N, I never knew your office could get even messier and more… disorganized,” She continues as she settles on placing all the gifts from 1CON on an empty shelf. “I didn’t even know you would end up going to that reunion.”

You sigh as you continue to click away on your computer, ignoring her last comment.

“Drunk me decided they wanted to work despite being intoxicated,” You mention as you continue to loop a specific segment in the instrumental you’ve been working on all night.

“You haven’t slept?!” She exclaims, attempting to gather and pile up the papers scattered all over your desk. When you let out a hum, she sighs as you continue to immerse yourself in your work.

“Y/N, I think we need to talk.”

“About?”

“This.” As you finally look away from your monitor, you see Soeun with her arms crossed as she hugs her iPad.

“Oh god, don’t tell me what I think it is.”

“I’m serious. We need to talk about what’s going to happen to us,” Soeun demands as she finally takes a seat in front of you. Before you could protest, she continued.

“Y/N, you’ve been doing this for a year, and I’ve stuck with you the whole time. From pre-debut, disbandment, and even until deciding to leave JYP, I stayed with you because I wanted to support you.”

Ultimately, you knew it was hard for Soeun to leave her job at JYP Entertainment to support you. Giving up her stable job to follow you has become one of your biggest burdens to carry to this day.

As she sees the frown on your face, she continues. “I didn’t leave because of an impulse decision. In fact, I left because I knew that working at JYP isn’t what I want at the end of everything. Y/N, I don’t know if you know this but you don’t give yourself enough credit for all the things you’ve gone through and accomplished.”

“I think that’s an overstatement. I don’t think I’ve–”

“You have accomplished a lot of things. You debuted with 1CON, made the difficult decision of leaving a well-known company to pursue your dreams with full creative freedom, and produced music for artists that continue to dominate the charts.”

Silence settles between you two as you try to take in her words. You love the compliments and praise you receive, but sometimes you feel it is never enough. This leads you to overexert yourself; the need to constantly achieve as if it is your only purpose in life.

“You need to give yourself more credit, which also means recognizing that you deserve more.” You knew where this conversation was going, and you didn’t want to hear her continue.

“Soeun, please don’t–”

“I’m sorry Y/N, but you need to at least hear me out. I really think you need to sign with a company.”

With that, you close your eyes as you take in her words. It hurts enough to see people on the Internet constantly discuss the success you could have gained if you were signed with a company, but it pains you physically to hear the same words from someone who knew you inside and out.

“I know your experiences with JYP and Stone Music Entertainment are some that you wish to forget, and I will never forget nor can I ever excuse the amount of mistreatment you faced under those two. However, I do think you can find yourself signed with another company, possibly a better one that knows how to treat you right,” Soeun says.

You finally open your eyes and nod, giving her the signal that she could continue. “It’s hard for both you and me to keep up with the demand. Although we have Taeyeon to help with styling and Sungyoon for photos and music videos, we only have such little manpower to keep up. You could be earning more, maybe relaxing more if you get signed with a company.”

With that, you let out a sigh. “Where is this coming from? Is it because of the number of emails I’ve left unanswered?”

Soeun shakes her head and says, “It’s not really that. Of course, I’ve had to deal with this when I still worked in JYP, but it isn’t the main reason I’m having this talk with you.”

“I’m going to be putting in my two-week notice.” You knew this day would come; she is resigning.

“I applied for jobs at different companies and I got an email back.”

“Congrats Soeun, you deserve it,” You say with a half-hearted smile.

You mean it, but it hurt to know that Soeun would not be with you as you continue your journey. She became a permanent presence in your life, and you could never imagine life without her in it.

Before you could allow yourself to be vulnerable, you decided to ask, “So, which company? I’m excited to hear who’s lucky to have Kim Soeun.” She lets out a laugh.

“I got signed with Cre.ker Entertainment. They had an opening for another managerial position,” She says as you nod.

“That’s the company of The Boyz, right?” She lets out an ‘mhm’ as you continue to nod once again.

“Y/N, you do have an email from that company, if you haven’t realized,” Soeun points out.

As you decide to finally open your email, several unread and unanswered emails greet you. Typing the word “Cre.ker,” you find the email Soeun mentioned. Two weeks ago, you received an email from them to which you have not gotten around to replying or reading.

— — —

FROM: Cre.ker Entertainment <cre.ker.ent.@gmail.com>

TO: Y/N <y/n@gmail.com>

SUBJECT: THE BOYZ’s SUB-UNIT “NEWSUN” TRACK

Good day, Y/N!

Cre.ker Entertainment is reaching out to you in hopes you will accept our request to produce a track for The Boyz’s upcoming album.

The sub-unit “NEWSUN” (which comprises New and Sunwoo) has requested that you produce their track on the upcoming album. If you wish to accept the offer, please let us know no later than two weeks.

We look forward to hearing from you and working with you.

— — —

“Huh, this is funny. I only have until today to reply,” You mention which Soeun chuckles at.

“I mentioned that you got an email from them about a week ago. You said you would get back to them, but clearly, you haven’t.”

“Yeah well, I shouldn’t be trusted with emails,” You reply to which she rolls her eyes. “Figures.”

“Anyway, going back to what we were discussing. You deserve more—a lot more, actually.” She grabs your hand. “I am not saying that I invalidate your experiences nor can I say that this type of mistreatment is not a general thing found with K-Pop companies, but I believe you can sign with a company that will understand what you want.” You think over what she says but never give a reply.

“I just want you to know that I appreciate working and supporting you for… god knows how long. I’ll be sending my formal resignation to your email. Please read it,” She begs which has you laughing.

“Yeah yeah, I will.” She smiles and stands up from her seat.

“Y/N, think over what I said.” She sucks in a breath. “You deserve more, and I want you to be secured in your career as you continue your journey in the industry. I’m not saying you should audition for Cre.ker Entertainment, but I’m saying to look into companies you’re interested to be under. I’ll just be in the room beside you.”

As she leaves your office, you are left with your thoughts and nothing more. In these moments, you miss being with 1CON the most.

It is 4:07 AM, and you are still seated in your home office. In fact, it’s your only office as you cannot afford to rent a separate place for work. You have finally finished the track for Jung Wheein’s album and sent it over to THE L1VE through email. 

As you think back to Soeun’s words, you decide to open up the email from Cre.ker Entertainment. Reading it once more, you decide to search for The Boyz on YouTube. You know of them and some of their tracks, but you decided that was not enough.

Searching up the words “NEW & SUNWOO” on YouTube, you find a video of theirs that covers “Nerdy Love,” a song you adore from an artist you highly respect. You decide to click the video and watch what the two boys had to offer.

Despite thinking you did not know enough, you knew who was who thanks to Jiwoo, your ex-peer. She is friends with New (or Chanhee) as they would be special MCs for music shows. After all the time they spent joking around behind the scenes, Jiwoo adores him and thinks of him as one of her closest friends now.

You remember how she described him to you two days ago. “Chanhee is the nicest guy I’ve ever met, and I trust him with almost everything. I hope you get to meet him one day! He’s a huge fan of your work,” She told you at the 1CON reunion two days ago.

However, you have no idea who Sunwoo is. All you know is that Heejin is sort of friends with him but they do not spend a lot of time with each other due to schedule conflicts. The most they ever interact with each other is whenever they play video games with other people their age. If you could recall, all Heejin had to say was that he was nice, and that is as much as you can remember.

Yet, you could not deny that you found him pleasing to look at. Maybe it is his hair, smile, or even the aura he gives off, but your eyes found themselves focusing on him. In the way he performs, you can see how much he enjoys performing.

Throughout your time in the industry, you have seen many artists work in their craft. Many idols share the unfortunate fate of working with peers they despise while others are not given the liberty to work on the tracks they put out. However, only some can say they enjoy what they do—only some can confidently say they love what they do. Sunwoo and Chanhee look like they fit in the latter.

Seeing the two boys vibe and perform one of your favorite songs was such a delight. In fact, you ended up looping the video as you continued to enjoy their cover. You also did not want to admit to having it just play in the background as you continued to finally go through your emails. Knowing Soeun, she would be happy to hear that you finally replied to the many companies reaching out to you.

Despite knowing what to say to which company, there is one company you did not know how to respond to. As you see the same email you read a while ago from Cre.ker Entertainment, you let out a sigh. The more you thought about it, the more you realized it could possibly help out Soeun get used to Cre.ker Entertainment.

As someone who does not want to let her go, you should have denied the company stealing her away from you. If anything, you felt as if you needed to resent Cre.ker Entertainment. Yet, you knew that Soeun resigning did not mean she would be gone forever. After everything, she is your best friend who stuck with you through thick and thin. You only want what is best for her—that is what makes her happy.

With that, you knew your answer.

“God if I knew Play M Entertainment and Cre.ker Entertainment were going to merge to form IST, I would have said no,” You say as you look up at the building in front of you.

“Sorry Y/N, I thought you knew! I think you should at least hear them out and if you can’t do it, you can just–”

“No, it’s fine. I can do this. I mean, it’s not like I will see her, you know?” You say as you take a deep breath.

With that, you enter the building with Soeun. As she walks to the front desk to talk to the woman about your appointment, you decide to take in your surroundings. The building is just like any other company; it reminds you of your trainee days. Despite being inside different company buildings to produce for artists, you can never stop being reminded of what happened to you then.

Before you could think about it anymore, Soeun loops her arm with yours. “C’mon, let’s go,” She says with a smile.

She always knew how to take care of you. With that, you two walk together to the elevator and try to make your way to the meeting room.

“I know you’re nervous about bumping into–”

“Please don’t say her name! What if someone catches on?” You exclaim which she nods at.

“Yeah, you’re right. Please don’t think about it too much because I don’t want you to be stressed about that and this meeting.”

“I’ll try. God, why did they have to merge?” You practically ask the universe as you and Soeun stand right in front of a door.

“No time to complain, you’ve got this. I hope you know I’m proud of you for still pushing through with this.”

“Soeun, you only told me that they merged when we were in the car. I almost grabbed that steering wheel.”

“Either way, just hear them out. I heard from my friends that Chanhee and Sunwoo are big fans of your work.”

With that, you sigh. “Fine. Just know I took this job because I wanted to see where you work.”

“I also know you did it because you wanted me to adjust already. I hope you know that I love you,” She says with a smile.

She then opens the door to see The Boyz’s manager, Sunwoo, and Chanhee seated. The three stand up from their seats to greet and bow at the two of you.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you all! I’m Soeun, Y/N’s manager, and I’ll be here to assist,” Soeun says as you two enter, bowing at the three. Once you and Soeun take a seat, you notice that you are seated right in front of Sunwoo.

Seeing him in the video was hard but seeing him right in front of you was even harder. As soon as he flashed a smile, you immediately looked away and hoped you were not red. If Soeun found out you were reacting this way about someone, she would never let you live it down (which is why you hope she would never notice).

“Hello, I’m Jihoon. Before anything, I think I should let them introduce themselves. They’ve been waiting for this moment to finally meet you,” Their manager says, which has both Chanhee and Sunwoo flustered.

“Ah, you didn’t have to mention that! But hello, I’m Chanhee! It’s nice to finally meet you. Jiwoo mentioned that she talked to you about me,” Chanhee greets you with a bow to which you smile.

“And I’m Sunwoo. Both Chanhee and I really enjoy your work, and we look forward to working with you,” Sunwoo follows right after with a bow.

“Ah, thank you so much. I look forward to working with you as well,” You manage to say without your voice cracking. You were flustered, and you were pretty sure it was showing with how red your cheeks were. God, you knew Soeun was going to make fun of you later.

“Alright, I guess we can start.”

The meeting was a success. Soeun handled most of it but you managed to chime in every now and then and understand what they needed from you.

“What was it with you a while ago?” Soeun asked when you two finally reached your place.

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, I know how you act when you find someone attractive. Is it Sunwoo? I won’t judge you.” You choose not to answer her as you go to the kitchen. “So it is!”

“I didn’t even answer!” You exclaim as you look through the fridge.

“I get it though, he is very attractive.”

“Soeun, you’re so annoying. Please stop,” You whine as you decide to grab some water.

“Well, good luck to you! You have to meet with them two days from now. You have only a week from your first meeting with him to submit the final track. Yes, final track, okay? Please remember that,” Soeun says as she notes it on her iPad.

“God, I don’t know why I agreed. That’s barely enough time to produce something satisfactory, let alone a good final track.” Soeun pats your shoulder as she continues to look down at her iPad.

“Don’t forget, you were the one who said yes when I tried to negotiate.” You let out a groan and take a seat.

“I mean if you said yes because you wanted to spend more time with Sunwoo–”

“Please stop. I don’t want to cross any boundaries of our strictly work relationship” You practically beg, to which she laughs.

“You’ve got this! Let me know if you need me to negotiate with Jihoon again. Just keep me updated on whatever ends up happening between you two,” She says with a smile as she walks away.

“Soeun, nothing is going to happen!” You exclaim which only makes her let out another laugh.

“You never know!”

It has been two days since that meeting, and you regret agreeing to the set deadline. It feels as if you have not gotten any wink of sleep in the last 48 hours as the stress and anxiety got to you. As you entered the building with a cup of coffee in your hand, you informed the woman at the front desk that you were expected to attend another meeting with Sunwoo and Chanhee.

“Please make yourself comfortable and wait here. I’ll just ring up their manager–”

“They’re with me!” You hear someone shout from behind you. As you turn to look, you see Sunwoo walking towards you and greeting you with a bow which you return.

“It’s nice to see you again,” He says, making you smile.

“I’ll bring them up, just inform hyung.” Sunwoo signals you to follow him as he makes his way to the elevator.

“So, how are you? I’m guessing you managed to think of something within the two days?” He asks as you two wait for the elevator to arrive.

You laugh as you shake your head. “I wish.”

“Did you get any sleep?” You shake your head in response which he laughs at.

“Well, if you pass out, I’ll be there to cover for you,” He says only for you to get shy.

“Oh god, you don’t–”

“I was just kidding Y/N, sorry if it wasn’t obvious.” The elevator doors finally open and you both get in.

“Oh, that’s my bad,” You say as you let out a nervous laugh.

“Hey, it’s no problem.”

The elevator doors finally close and you two go up. As silence engulfs you two, you somehow think it is your fault.

“I, uhm, tend to be very shy around new people. I’m not usually like this,” You say to break the silence.

He looks at you with a smile and nods. “No worries, Chanhee and Heejin said the same.”

You were surprised to find out that he’s talked about you to others. As you continued to look straightforward, you would only hope that Heejin or Jiwoo did not mention anything embarrassing to the two.

“I never got to ask, but how are you?” You decided to finally ask him.

“Oh, well it’s been alright?” He says in an unsure manner which has you raising an eyebrow at him.

“Well, the guys and I have been practicing the choreography for our comeback, and I’ve been kind of nervous about how Chanhee and I’s track is going to turn out. Not that I’m trying to say I don’t trust you, but I am nervous about how well I’m going to execute your vision,” He admits.

“If it helps, I think whatever you do will perfectly execute what I see.” You smile at him to which he smiles back.

“Oh, so you trust me that much? How much have you seen my performances to say that?” He asks as he faces you and leans against the wall, a smug look on his face. Something about how he keeps the conversation going makes you less shy than before.

“Well, I had to do my research,” You admit with a smirk.

“Oh, the famous Y/N has done their research on me? What do you know about me?” He asks to which you decide to face him as well. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

He chuckles as soon as the elevator doors open. “Well don’t think I didn’t research you,” He says and walks out with you following.

You two eventually arrive at one of the recording studios with no Chanhee to be found.

“Oh, where’s Chanhee?” You ask as you look around the recording studio.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that Chanhee wouldn’t be sitting in for a lot of the production process because he has a bunch of other schedules to attend to. I hope you don’t mind spending this time with me,” Sunwoo says with a smile as he takes a seat on the couch.

“Oh, I see,” You say as you stay rooted in place.

“If you’re uncomfor–”

“No no, it’s okay. As I said, I’m just shy,” You cut him off and muster the biggest and most awkward smile.

Before you could apologize for your behavior, Sunwoo lets out a giggle. “Y/N, I get it, but you don’t have to be awkward around me.”

His words of reassurance allow you to breathe just for a little. There is something about Sunwoo that makes you both nervous yet comfortable. You did not know how, but that only made you want to know more about him.

You decide to take a seat on the office chair in front of the mixing console and spin it to face Sunwoo. “Alright, I think we should go through what you and Chanhee want from the track. I know Jihoon discussed it in the meeting but I would like to hear it from you,” You say as you set down your cup of coffee on the coffee table.

“Well, Chanhee and I really want an R&B track for this album. Think of, I don’t know, “Nerdy Love” if you know that track,” Sunwoo explains which makes you smile.

“Yeah, I do know that. It’s one of my favorites.” And with that, Sunwoo smirks.

“I’m guessing you’ve listened to our cover if you did research on us.”

You choose to not answer and grab your notebook and pen as you try to suppress a smile. “Ah, not answering means ‘yes’, by the way.”

“No, it doesn’t!” You scoff.

“It’s just a simple question, Y/N. Why won’t you answer it?” The stupid smile on his face has your heart doing little flips.

“There would be no fun in just answering. You’ll find out soon enough,” You say as you open your notebook to a clean page only for him to chuckle.

“Can you expound a bit more on what the main message of the song is?” You inquire as you write down some points.

“It’s a love song.” That has you scrunching your nose which Sunwoo notices.

“Hey, what’s the problem with that?!” He exclaims which makes you laugh.

“There’s no problem.”

“That expression you made a while ago didn’t say that.”

 “Just don’t pay attention to my facial expressions! I won’t react, just continue,” You say as you look up from the notebook.

“It’s hard to not look at you,” He says as he tilts his head to the side with that stupid smile you have grown to both love and hate within that small period of time. You were flustered, and you did not know how to respond.

“Yeah, it’s a love song with a twist,” Sunwoo says as he tries to get back on topic (to which you are thankful for). “Picture this, Y/N.”

“I’m listening.”

“No no, close your eyes.” He urges you to do so in which you furrow your eyebrows. “What the fuck, I am not doing that.”

“Oh come on! It’ll immerse you in what Chanhee and I envisioned.”

“Sunwoo, I think you can explain it and I’ll follow through with what you’re saying.”

Sunwoo pouts at your answer as he crosses his arms. “I wouldn’t want to inform Heejin but…”

“Is that a threat?” You gasp when he simply looks around the room.

With that, you sigh and close your eyes. “Go on, I won’t keep my eyes closed forever,” You say and you hear him clap.

“Alright! Imagine this; you’ve known someone for a while, okay? And let’s say this person is someone you’ve been flirting with. You know, the push and pull, playful flirting, all the things you would do for something that started off as casual. Are you imagining it?”

“Yes Sunwoo, I am,” You sigh, which he laughs at.

“Okay. With time, you start to realize that you might actually like this person.”

“Woah, shocker.”

“C’mon Y/N, let me finish!” You laugh and decide to shut up. “Go on.”

“So, you’re on the brink of falling for them but you don’t want to admit anything. But plot twist: they seem to also be falling for you! And there comes a night where the two of you are chilling, but you two don’t want to drink for the reason that you two might confess under the influence.” As you listened to him, you got to envision what he was saying.

“You know, being with someone you like surrounded by alcohol is a dangerous combination,” You say as you finally open your eyes.

“Exactly! It’s the risk that makes it all scary because you don’t want to come off as ingenuine,” He continues to explain which has you nodding along and taking notes.

“Hm, I get it now. I dig it.” That has Sunwoo standing up from the couch with his arms spread out.

“I told you so! Chanhee and I know what are good love songs, not saying I hate love songs but clearly someone in this room does,” He says as he continues to look around, avoiding your gaze.

“I don’t hate love songs! I never said that, so stop putting words into my mouth,” You try to defend yourself as you roll your eyes. Sunwoo takes a seat again as he furrows his eyebrows at you.

“Y/N, I researched you too. There’s no need to lie.”

You let out a sigh. “Fine, I do.”

“And why so?” Sunwoo decides to ask which has you grabbing your cup of coffee to take a sip.

“Ask me later after we make some progress and I’ll answer,” You say which has Sunwoo rolling his eyes, a little smile playing on his lips.

It’s been three hours since you and Sunwoo decided to work, and there has been little to no success.

“God, why did I agree to that deadline?” You mutter to yourself as you shut your eyes with your hands over them in frustration. Sunwoo heard you as he was writing and crossing out lyrics for the track.

“Hey Y/N, why don’t we grab some lunch first?” You open your eyes and look behind you to see Sunwoo up from his seat.

“We haven’t made any progress.”

“Yeah, but you of all people should know that creativity and productivity don’t come with an empty stomach,” He tries to reason out as he walks to you and sets his hands on your chair.

As you look back at the computer in front of you, you see nothing on GarageBand. During times like these, you knew you had to get out of the studio. Whenever you hit a wall, the only solution was to find inspiration outside.

“Alright, let’s get some lunch,” You give in as you close the program and get up from your seat. “Where to?”

“I know a place for us to eat.”

Once the two of you exit the building, you follow Sunwoo as he leads you to where you two will be eating.

“So, why hate love songs?” He decides to ask which has you chuckling.

“I thought we agreed on asking once we’ve made progress, and clearly we haven’t.”

“Oh come on, we need to talk and get to know each other so that we can eventually get over the hurdle,” Sunwoo says which has you sighing.

“Fine. It’s just, I don’t know, cliché? It gets so repetitive that it gets so boring and typical.”

“Ah, you’re one of those people.” That has you letting out a gasp and looking right at him.

“What do you mean by that?!”

He only giggles as he continues to look straight forward. “C’mon Y/N, don’t look at me and look at where you’re going. You might trip.”

“As if–” Before you could finish, you trip and almost fall. It seemed like the universe was out to get you because Sunwoo was right. You were about to brace yourself for the impact, but a pair of arms grabbed your waist before you could fall.

“Oh my god, Y/N! I told you so!” Sunwoo exclaims as he lets go of you.

You wish you could say something but you were too embarrassed about Sunwoo wrapping his arms around you to save you from falling. As the two of you stood there, facing each other, you were about to apologize.

“Uh, sorry, I–”

“Just be careful next time, okay?” Sunwoo says as he rubs your head, messing up your hair. Before you could say anything, he grabs your hand and starts to walk with you following.

Usually, you would get mad if someone messed up your hair but there was something about Sunwoo that made you crave his touch. You hated how you were reacting this way over this guy. As the two of you held hands while you walked to the restaurant, you swear your heart almost burst out of your chest.

The two of you quickly arrived at the restaurant that Sunwoo wanted to bring you to; it was a small Japanese restaurant. As the two of you entered, the bells by the door seemed to chime which grabbed the servers’ attention. “Irasshaimase!”

A lady dressed in a red kimono walked to the two of you with a big smile. “Ah, Sunwoo! How are you?”

“I’m okay! I’ve been working really hard for our upcoming comeback,” Sunwoo replies with a grin that seems to warm both the lady’s and your hearts.

“Oh, you come with a guest! Hello! You are–oh my god, you’re a member of 1CON, right?” The lady asks you, showing the same smile she gave to Sunwoo.

“Ah yes, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you,” You say as you bow.

“Just a table for two, please.” With that, the lady nods and brings you two to a table located in a small room for privacy. As the two of you get seated, the lady hands you two menus to browse.

“By the way, I’m Hikaru, your server for today. Y/N, Sunwoo frequents here with the other members, so you can always ask him for recommendations,” She tells you which makes you smile. “I will.”

“Sunwoo, I didn’t know you were going out with an ex-member of 1CON! They’re one of Korea’s sweethearts,” Hikaru says, which has you freezing from reading the items on the menu. You knew your cheeks were red, so it surprised you when you decided to look up and see Sunwoo’s cheeks painted red as well.

“Ah, it’s not like that. We’re just colleagues,” He tries to explain which Hikaru understands.

“Oh, I see! I didn’t know. You two would make a good pair though,” She says as she leaves the room which has you both frozen in your seats.

Sunwoo lets out an awkward chuckle and decides to avoid your gaze. “So, what do you like to eat? This place is known for their sushi but they do have really good katsudon.”

“Yeah, sushi works for me.” Once Sunwoo ordered a bunch of sushi platters, the two of you were left in awkward silence.

“So, what do you mean I am one of those people?” You decide to ask to lighten up the mood which was successful as he seemed to laugh.

“I’m just saying, you are part of the people who hate on love songs to be “unique” for some odd reason,” He explains while doing air quotations.

“I don’t hate them just to be unique. I am not that shallow!”

“Alright, so why then?” You sigh as you look at your glass of water.

“I just think they set an unrealistic standard for what love really is.” Sunwoo tilts his head in confusion and asks, “Care to expound?”

“I’m not dramatic or anything, by the way. I think love just isn’t what lyricists make it out to be,” You say as you finally look straight at him.

“Okay, so what are your experiences with it then?”

“Woah Sunwoo, jumping right into it? Give me some time.” You chuckle.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to–”

“I was just kidding, Sunwoo. You’re good.” Sunwoo only smiles and drinks some water.

“What about you? Why do you seem to love love songs?”

“I don’t know what else to say other than I’m a hopeless romantic,” He admits with a small smile.

“Good experiences with love then I’m guessing?”

“Sure, but I just continue to love as if it’s my first time doing so.”

With that, Sunwoo has you smiling. Something about his answer makes your heart throb; you knew it would be a privilege to be loved by him. “Wow, you really are a hopeless romantic.”

Sunwoo rolls his eyes at your comment. “Alright, sue me! There’s nothing wrong with being one.”

You hum as you prop your arm on the table and rest your chin on your hand. “Yeah, it just adds more to my research.”

“Sunwoo, you sure know the best places to eat,” You admit as you try to keep yourself awake from entering a food coma.

Sunwoo smiles both at what you say and how your eyes slightly droop. “Thank you. My friend, Haknyeon, suggested this place back when we were in our trainee days. Now, we eat here so much that everyone seems to know the usual.”

You giggle and let out a small sigh as you look down at the table. “It must be nice to hang out with your friends almost every single second of the day.”

Sunwoo notices the small frown that is about to appear on your face. Before he could say anything, you shake your head as you chuckle and say, “Anyway, shall we head out?”

All Sunwoo did was nod and stand up with you as you exited the small function room. You took this opportunity to look around the restaurant and notice a bar with a small stage beside it. On that stage, people were playing different instruments as they performed a jazzy tune you were unfamiliar with.

Before Sunwoo could leave the restaurant, he noticed you staring in awe at the performers. There was something with how you admired a trio of musicians; the glint in your eyes as you observed how they pluck the strings of their instruments or played the keys of the piano; the slight bobbing of your head as you tried to go along with the tempo they played. The absolute adoration that seemed to show on your face made Sunwoo want—no, need to have you around to experience more moments like these.

Suddenly, your face of admiration morphed into realization. As you meet Sunwoo’s gaze, you say, “I figured it out.”

It is 8:37 PM. You and Sunwoo have spent the last four or five hours working on your own to create the best track suited for their unit song. In those hours, you managed to create the base track on GarageBand and think of a melody in your head. Yet, within those hours, you never noticed how much Sunwoo spent his time looking at you.

“I think I have it,” You finally say as you remove your headphones and look back to see Sunwoo who was on his fifth page full of messy words and scribbles. “Sure, you can play it out loud.”

You change the output settings to speakers and play the track for the two of you to listen. The sound of the electric guitar, the bass, and the drums came all together. You carefully watched Sunwoo as you await his response to the 45-second recording you produced.

As the track finally came to an end, you could not tell what Sunwoo thought of it. “I know it’s not a lot, but that was something I imagined for the track to turn out,” You admit as you continued to stare at him.

“Could you play it again?” You listened to his request and followed. One loop of the short recording turned into three more loops, and you were scared. No matter how many artists you have produced tracks for, you always find yourself anxious about everyone’s feedback.

Sunwoo bopped his head along with the track as he went through the lyrics he wrote. As it reached the end, he looked up to give you a big smile. “It sounds amazing. You never fail to amaze me.” 

Despite only getting to know him today, something about those words seemed to warm your heart. With that, you smile as you get off your seat and say, “I kind of thought of the melody too. Care to give me a hand with recording it?”

Sunwoo nodded with the same smile plastered on his face as he got off his seat. Once you entered the recording booth, you saw him seated right in front of the mixing console and desktop. You wear the headphones and test the microphone.

“Am I at a good volume?” You speak into the microphone and earn a nod from him.

“You can play the track, just make sure I’m being recorded.” With that, Sunwoo gives you a thumbs-up and presses a few buttons.

Once you heard the track play out in your headphones, you decided to hum a short tune. Sometimes, you even sang a few lines that came to you on the spot. Some of the things you said did not make sense but Sunwoo seemed to enjoy every single line you sang.

When the track ended abruptly, you look at Sunwoo only to see those doe eyes full of adoration.

“Y/N, please tell me you slept because–oh? You actually slept,” Soeun says in shock as she enters your bedroom and sees you still in bed.

“Soeun, what time is it?” You ask groggily as you rub your eyes.

“11 AM. I am quite surprised you slept.”

“Yeah well, Sunwoo and I squeezed out too much creative juices yesterday and basically ran dry,” You explained as you sat up and stretched your limbs.

“Mhm, how was it? Any progress?” You roll your eyes and get out of bed to walk to your closet

“Soeun, I know I fall quick and hard for almost any person but I am not going to indulge in this one.”

“We’ll see about that,” Soeun mutters loud enough for you to hear.

Before you could interject, she says, “Jihoon told me that Chanhee wouldn’t be participating in the production process due to the schedules he has to attend. Although Jihoon did say Chanhee was incredibly upset.” You nod and hum as you decide what to wear for the day.

“Which means more time with Sunwoo!”

“Soeun!”

“So, Y/N.”

“Yes?”

“Mind if I could ask you something personal?”

“Depends how you define ‘personal’.”

“How was it in 1CON? How was it to be the nation’s sweetheart?” The way Sunwoo phrased it had you laughing.

“God, I am not the nation’s sweetheart,” You deny as you decide to take a short break and look back at him.

“That’s not what the publications say! Almost every news outlet calls 1CON that.”

“I was ranked seventh, and it was a miracle! I even questioned how I managed to make it to the final lineup,��� You argue as you take a sip of matcha that Sunwoo had surprised you with when you entered the building. You did not know how he knew but you could only guess that he researched on you even more.

Sunwoo frowns at your reply and says, “You went against a hundred contestants, you shouldn’t downplay your efforts.”

You only sigh and decide to cut the argument short. “Well, 1CON was just like any group; there’s not much to say.”

“Wasn’t the training difficult?”

You chose to keep your answer short and say, “It was, but my time with 1CON is something I still cherish to this day. I made some friends that I still talk to and hang out with until this day.”

“You’re close friends with Jiwoo and Heejin, right?” You nod as you look up to the ceiling, remembering the fun you had with 1CON. Despite everything you have been through, you would sometimes justify the mistreatment you faced with your debut with 1CON.

“I’m close with Yuri also, but I’m casual with everyone,” You tell a white lie to Sunwoo, knowing he would never find out.

“You came from JYP, right?”

“Wow, Sunwoo, you really have been doing research on me. You know you could always just ask! You can’t trust all the things you see on the Internet!”

Sunwoo giggles at your response, his smile showing up once more. “I’m just curious since Ryujin and Chaeryeong are from the same company as you.”

“Brilliant observation from Mr. Kim Sunwoo.” You point out which has Sunwoo laughing once more.

“I’m serious! Wouldn’t you have debuted with them?”

You sigh as you take another sip of matcha. “I would’ve but I am here producing tracks for others.”

Silence engulfs you two as both of you continue to bask in your answer. “Don’t get me wrong, I do love producing. Sometimes, I look at the artists who perform the tracks I produce and think, “Wow, I could never do that.””

Sunwoo was about to interject but you continued to speak. “But I can’t deny that I miss being on stage. The stadiums, the fansigns, the fans… and performing with friends. 1CON has changed my life, and sometimes I wish I could go back to when we were still together.”

It has been a while since you have gotten to vocalize your thoughts, and it felt nice to let this out to Sunwoo. Soeun knew all of your struggles and inner thoughts, but you always felt bad for repeating the same words and thoughts. Now that you got to vocalize this to Sunwoo, you felt at ease around him.

“I wish you would realize that you are talented to perform the tracks you produced,” Sunwoo speaks up which has you ripping your gaze from the ceiling to look right at him.

“Y/N, I do think you are capable enough—no, even more than capable to perform the tracks you have produced. I’ve listened to your own tracks, the ones you published yourself, and I believe they are the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard.” Your eyes are in awe over his words. “You are a very talented person, Y/N, and you might have to be my favorite producer and artist out there.”

What Sunwoo says has you starstruck. The way he thought and viewed you should have put this huge amount of pressure on you, but you were pleasantly surprised when you were met with a breath of fresh air.

“Wow, you are very passionate about this,” You finally speak up, trying to shrug off the fact that he complimented you.

Sunwoo frowns at your response and says, “Y/N, you really should give yourself more credit.”

With that, you sigh and give in for once. “Thank you, Sunwoo.”

It was weird to think how someone thought all of that about you. Having someone think of you as their favorite artist and producer? In an industry full of capable and even more talented individuals compared to little you? It felt even weirder to know that someone had to be Sunwoo.

“So, what about you? What’s it like to be in The Boyz?”

It is 2:32 AM, and you and Sunwoo are seated inside the convenience store having some late-night snacks. You could officially say you were done with 75% done with the track. You needed to work on the bridge and outro for you to finally do the final arrangements and call it finished. Sunwoo was going at a pretty good pace; he finished writing the lyrics for almost all of Chanhee’s parts and had to do some final edits on his rap.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I guess you could say it was just like any trainee experience: difficult.” You hum as you take a sip of banana milk and stare out the window.

“There were the unhealthy diets, the long hours of practice, and the scolding. God, the scolding from the company was too much that I contemplated leaving.”

“But you didn’t leave.”

Sunwoo sighs and says, “Yeah, I didn’t. Yet, there were numerous times when I wondered if all the shit I was going through would be worth it, you know? Is all the pain and suffering I’m going through right now that worth it for a debut with a group I wasn’t sure would be a success?”

You understood every word that Sunwoo was saying at that moment. The way he phrased his thoughts was exactly your thoughts back then. Despite you sharing the same sentiments with Sunwoo, you chose to not speak of the past you kept hidden.

“I see. But you’re happy now, right? Happy with The Boyz?” You decide to ask as you finally look at him.

“I couldn’t imagine my life without them. My beginning was with them and they will be my ending as well,” Sunwoo admits with a small smile on his face as he looks back at you.

During that moment, you lay your hand on his shoulder and say, “Sunwoo, I am happy that despite everything, you persevered through it all. I am so glad that you made your debut with a group that loves and cares for you. They are so lucky to have someone like you.”

Sunwoo’s eyes widen at your words, clearly not expecting to hear that. Before you could take your hand off his shoulder, he grabs it and holds your hand in his.

“Yeah… I’m so glad to have met you.” He looks out the window. “You know, you really are the nation’s sweetheart in every aspect I’ve gotten to know. The world is so lucky to have you.”

His hushed words have you flustered; it seems harder to not like him when he continues to say shit like that. As his smile followed after those words, you knew you were screwed when you felt your heart beat out of your chest. So when he said the words “C’mon, I’ll take the bus with you going home. It’s too late for you to go home all by yourself,” you knew that it was impossible to not like a guy like Sunwoo.

“He OFFERED?!”

“Soeun! Quiet down!” You exclaim as you pat your face dry with a towel.

“Sorry, I was just surprised. Sunwoo is an actual decent guy,” Soeun says as she leans on your doorframe.

“Well, he is a really good guy. He has a heart of gold.”

As you say those words while you do your morning skincare routine, you notice Soeun’s expression through the mirror morph into that all-knowing smile you have learned to hate.

“God, I can say that and not pursue him. Let me be,” You say as you roll your eyes.

“I’m just saying that with all the stories you’ve told me, it seems that he likes you too.”

You laugh at her statement and continue on with your skincare routine.

“If you’re worried about dating bans, you don’t have one. Neither does Sunwoo, I’ve asked Jihoon.” 

“SOEUN!” 

“What?! I just thought to bring it up in case you didn’t know,” Soeun says with a small smile as she scrolls through some documents on her iPad.

You sigh as you continue with your skincare routine, a mind full of last night's events. Nothing much happened if you were to be honest. You are not sure why Soeun was making it a big deal because it seemed like a basic act of decency that anyone could perform. And yet, you were unsure why your heart would flutter when you remembered it.

“I don’t know, it’s just… weird for me. I mean, I did meet him recently.”

“Yeah, but you’ve spent a good chunk of time with Sunwoo. I never held it against you when you developed this crush on him, and I think it’s healthy! I mean, we’ve spent so many years together, and I like seeing you happy.”

Soeun’s words should have brought comfort to you, but doubt took over. You bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at yourself in the mirror.

“Yeah, but work comes first.”

“But–”

“Nope, I don’t want to hear anything from you,” You silence Soeun, making her frown. The work you did was more important than anything, even more than a stupid little crush you developed for a colleague. I mean, it would remain a crush, right?

Once you finished getting ready for the morning, your phone buzzed. As you grabbed onto it, you were surprised to see a text from Sunwoo.

zzoguri 🦝: hey Y/N! i was wondering if you were up to join me for this little party

y/n: sunwoo what happened to only meeting up for work? WHAHASGDH

zzoguri 🦝: okay but we need to have some breaks you know! we deserve it after all the progress we’ve made

y/n: do you not remember that we have a deadline to meet which is only 3 days from now

y/n: plus the times we aren’t together are breaks!

zzoguri 🦝: oh cmon y/n :( if you don’t want to hang that’s fine.

You furrow your eyes as you were unsure to respond.

“Why the frown?” Soeun asks, which makes you sigh and show your conversation to her. As she reads the chat, you notice how her expression morphs into disappointment.

“Y/N, you are on a different level of being dense.”

“What?! Why?”

“He’s asking you on a date!” She says which makes you frown even more.

“Asking me out to a party is not a date. What are you on?”

“Well, maybe not on a date date, but he’s finding opportunities to spend more time with you outside of the typical meetings or work hours.” She says as she shakes her head and goes back to her iPad.

You pout as you look back at your conversation. If Sunwoo thought this was a date (which you highly doubt), he needs to step up in his game.

“I’m not saying you should take his offer, but he just wants to spend more time with you, as a friend or maybe even more,” Soeun points out, which has you pondering even harder on how to respond. Once you reached a decision, you let out a sigh and type away

y/n: kim sunwoo, i enjoy spending time with you if you’re worried about that

y/n: send me the details and i’ll make sure to attend

zzoguri 🦝: wow THE y/n enjoys spending time with me. i am honored.

y/n: don’t get ahead of yourself

zzoguri 🦝: trust me, i’m only acting like this because i’m lucky to have you 😋

It sucks that you felt yourself smile and your cheeks warm at the message.

Sunwoo did not tell you much about the party, so you wore a smart casual outfit as a safety option. When you asked about the address, he only answered with an “I’ll be picking you up.” You were seated by the kitchen island as you continued to scroll through Twitter.

The praise your recent work got for Wheein’s album was a sight you loved, and you hoped for more collaborations with the soloist. On the charts, your work was doing well alongside the title track. After all the countless nights spent working on tracks, you always find yourself at ease after seeing how the public received them.

The doorbell rings, and you are reminded that you were waiting for Sunwoo. You stood up from your seat and swung the door open, surprised to be greeted by the man you were waiting for who was dressed up from his usual hoodie. As he saw you, not a single sound left him; he was stuck looking at you up and down.

“Uh, Sunwoo?” You ask to break the weird silence that seemed to engulf you two.

“Oh, sorry. I was just—you look wonderful.”

 You smile to cover up the fact you were blushing, and joke, “You don’t think I look good the other times we’ve met?”

“Ah, that’s not what I mean. You look great every day, but today… you just look, even more beautiful right now.”

You did not expect Sunwoo to say that which has you more flustered than ever. It was impossible that Sunwoo did not know what he was doing to you; he should definitely know now.

“C’mon, we’ve got a party to attend,” He says with a smile as he grabs your hand.

As he got into the car with you, you noticed that it was Jihoon in the driver’s seat. To be honest, you were not sure why you were nervous about this whole thing. Maybe it felt weird to hold hands with Jihoon around; it also did not help to know Sunwoo had no dating ban.

With that, your hands started to get clammy, and you were about to let go of his hand. Yet, he never seemed to be bothered by your sweaty hands. Despite what you thought of the Pacific Ocean forming in your hands, he continued to hold it with the same grip. As he looked out the window to admire the city lights, you were left to admire the boy beside you.

The ride to the party did not take long. In fact, the location of it felt quite near IST Entertainment. The party took place in a building right beside the Japanese restaurant you and Sunwoo started to frequent after that one lunch. You could not help it; the sushi is to die for.

When the two of you entered the building, it was full of function rooms that could hold around a hundred to two hundred individuals. You expected Sunwoo to let go of your hand the moment you two exited the car, but he never did.

Eventually, you two arrived in front of a door. Before he could open it, you hold him back. He looks back at you with wide eyes that were laced with worry.

“Hey, are you okay?” You bite your lip as you felt your limbs fill with anxiety.

“I… I don’t know. Who are the people in there? I’m not the greatest in social gatherings so I might end up clinging onto you. Is that okay? I mean–”

Before you could continue on a tangent, Sunwoo lets go of your hand and grabs onto your face to gain your attention (which he successfully did). The warmth of his hands on your cheeks; the eye contact he held; everything about him had the ability to make you shut up and admire him like he is the only person on this earth. And that god-forsaken smile started to creep onto his lips—you were screwed.

“It’ll be alright. Cling onto me for as long as you want, I’ll make sure to keep you company. Don’t forget, I did invite you which makes me obligated to take care of you.” Before you could protest, he cuts you off.

“Sorry, don’t think I’m keeping you company as a task. I enjoy spending time with you too, and I want to spend whatever second I have left with you,” He says, which has your knees weak.

If Sunwoo did not know the power of his words, you would have smacked him then and there. There is no way the guy right in front of you is saying all this without knowing the impact these words would have on anyone. Maybe he was just as dense as Soeun thinks you are, and you were betting on it.

He eventually lets go of your face and grabs onto your hand once more. With that, he looks back to the door and swings it open. The two of you were greeted by strobe lights and BIBI’s “The Weekend” as you entered the function room.

If you had to guess, the party seemed to have at least fifty individuals (possibly a mix of idols and staff) who looked like they were having the time of their lives. As you were taking in your surroundings, you noticed idols such as Kim Yerim of Red Velvet and Mark Lee of NCT chatting with other idols you recognized.

The party was full of big shots, and that terrified you. Your nerves were starting to get to you that Sunwoo could notice. With that, you found yourself being brought in front of him so that he could hold onto your shoulders as you two walked.

“If you want to leave already, just let me know, okay?” He whispers into your ear as you continue to walk to wherever he is leading you to.

If people did not notice you were here, people definitely noticed now considering how close you and Sunwoo were. Before you could tell Sunwoo that others were staring, you two eventually arrived at a table occupied by ten other guys you knew from research—you can only assume it is the rest of his group.

“Guess who finally showed up!” Juyeon pointed out which has the rest of the group looking at you two.

“I know, I know. I had to pick up Y/N from their place.” Sunwoo says as he high-fives some of them.

“Oh my god, Y/N, please do take a seat,” Changmin says as he grabs onto the chair beside him. You give him a small smile and take a seat with Sunwoo doing the same beside you.

“I think I should introduce you to–”

“Oh, you don’t have to! I know who everyone is,” You cut Sunwoo off which has the rest of the group in shock.

“The Y/N knows us?! Korea’s sweetheart?!” Eric exclaims which has you giggling.

“Of course! Why would I agree to produce a track for Chanhee and Sunwoo if I didn’t know your group? What you guys put out is amazing!” The group expresses their gratitude after your compliment.

“I mean, the same goes for you! I would be embarrassed to admit this, but you were my bias when 1CON was still together,” Changmin says which has you laughing.

“Oh please, I don’t take compliments well,” You say as you try to shrug it off.

“I mean, Sunwoo was probably worse! He would–”

“Aish, shut up Haknyeon! Y/N doesn’t have to know,” Sunwoo attempts to cut Haknyeon off before he could spill anything.

“What? Now I wanna know!”

“Ah, Y/N! Don’t listen to him!” Sunwoo exclaims which makes you laugh at him.

“Sunwoo, I think Haknyeon has something very important to share with me. You wouldn’t want to stop us from being friends, would you?” When he gives you a pout, all you could do is giggle and pat his knee.

As the others seemed invested in their own conversations, Haknyeon says, “Well, Sunwoo had you as his bias even before you debuted in 1CON.” You gasp as you look at the guy moping beside you and back to Haknyeon.

“It was funny because he so badly wanted to meet you before but your group and The Boyz never had their schedules line up when it came to promotions. I remember when Changmin said he had you as his bias; the reaction on Sunwoo’s face is so memorable.” With that, you smile at Sunwoo who was busy sulking.

“Sunwoo, why didn’t you tell me this?” You ask which has him looking back at you.

“I didn’t think it was relevant to mention,” He mutters.

“You were just shy about it!” You exclaim as you could not stop yourself from smiling at the shy boy in front of you.

“Ah, whatever! New topic, please! Where’s Soobin and Yeonjun?”

“Uh, they were just here. However, Y/N! I forgot to mention that–” Before Haknyeon could finish his sentence, you were interrupted by your phone buzzing in your bag. As you grab it, you see a text message from Soeun.

ssongie 🐧: hey, let me know when you get back home! i’ll seriously scold jihoon if sunwoo doesn’t bring you back home.

ssongie 🐧: and i know you hate huge social gatherings so don’t hesitate to call me

ssongie 🐧: actually just call me when you're there so that i know you’re safe please &lt;3

You giggle at Soeun’s messages and decide to get up from your seat.

“I just have to call Soeun,” You explain to Sunwoo and Haknyeon and excuse yourself from the table to go to the washroom. As you were busy typing out a response, you accidentally bump into someone.

“Oh my god, I’m so–”

“Y/N? I did not expect you to be here!” The voice belonged to someone you last wished to bump into, especially at a gathering full of idols. As you look up, you see the face of your ex-peer who constantly overshadowed you from pre-debut until disbandment.

Jiyoon—the one person you hoped to avoid encountering at any given moment, especially at IST Entertainment—just had to bump into you here. You were shocked by how the universe works. How could they make you meet her here, out of all the places too?

Before you could say anything, Jiyoon wrapped her arms around your figure. The sudden action did not help how surprised you were by the whole situation.

“Y/N, it’s been a while!” She exclaims once she lets go, clearly not noticing how you did not hug her back.

“I–we saw each other recently,” You say, which makes her laugh.

“Oh yeah! But I couldn’t stay for long, remember? I had to leave the moment you got there!” Jiyoon smiled at you which made you feel awkward.

The thing is Jiyoon never intentionally did anything bad to you. In fact, your old company was to blame for cultivating this competitive environment between you two. Yet, you were sure Jiyoon saw you as a competitor as well despite the façade she put on.

“Uh, yeah. What a bummer!” If she did not notice how awkward you feel about this encounter, she should definitely notice now.

You just wanted to get out of this horrible situation. The need to just crawl under your covers to isolate yourself from your memories and reality is so strong. It did not help that people were observing the interaction between you two. I mean, who would not want to see two of Korea’s sweethearts interact once more? Yet, you knew people were curious about what would go down between you two.

“How’s producing going for you? I was shocked to hear you didn’t debut with Ryujin and Chaeryeong in ITZY! Was it because you didn’t make it to the final line-up?” You frowned at her.

“Producing is amazing because I enjoy what I do now. And no, I just decided to leave JYP.” Your response was laced with a touch of passive aggressiveness as you were uncomfortable with her question.

“Oh, what a shame. I just thought that you would have fit ITZY, but I guess JYP wouldn’t accept any of your tracks for their albums, would they?”

See, that is the problem with Jiyoon; a fake ass bitch who knew how to press your buttons. If everyone else knew how much of a bitch she was, maybe you would not have to struggle being under fire for choosing to be a producer rather than an idol.

Before you could say anything, you felt someone’s arm wrap around your shoulders.

“Hi, Jiyoon! Sorry to interrupt but Y/N and I have somewhere to be,” Sunwoo intervenes as he gives a small smile to Jiyoon.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you two came together.” Jiyoon gives a smile—the same one you grew to hate over the years. “Well, I hope to see you again, Y/N.”

Once Jiyoon finally leaves, you do not take another second to shrug Sunwoo’s arm off and make your way out of the function room. As Sunwoo follows you out, the two of you continue to walk back to the car in silence. Jihoon notices you two and starts up the car.

The moment you two get in, not a single word is exchanged throughout the whole ride. You were sure Sunwoo was confused about your reaction but maybe he did not want to ask you about it until you were ready.

What you do not expect is to feel his hand rest on top of yours. There is something that his touch does to bring you comfort. If you could unravel the reason for this, you would take it in a heartbeat. But for now, all you can do is let yourself feel at ease.

Once you were brought back to your home, Sunwoo walked you back to the door. Before you decided to enter your home, you take a look at Sunwoo who looked worried. With that, you gave him an apologetic smile and say, “I’m sorry about tonight.”

“Hey, don’t even worry about it,” Sunwoo starts off. “It’s none of my business, but just know I’m here for you.”

You cannot help but smile at him. For a moment, you do not know what to say. Yet, something possess you. Without thinking, you felt your face closer to his. As his eyes widen at the distance between you two, you cannot help but smile.

With your head leaning to the side, you felt your lips get closer to his cheek until there was no distance left. It was a short kiss to begin with, and not much thought was put into the action. The moment you pulled away, you are still met with Sunwoo’s shocked expression.

You chose to not say anything. All you did was smile and walk away. Once you entered your home, you could not help but focus on the memories you had with Jiyoon in them (and the peck you gave Sunwoo).

Having to face Sunwoo the next day was a task you were not ready to take on. As you look back at the events that transpired last night, you were unsure of how to go back to normal without acknowledging your encounter with Jiyoon (and the k*ss on the cheek you gave out of impulse).

You wish you knew what was going through your mind that made you k*ss him. Everything felt like a blur yet crystal clear. Being driven by impulse and having no second thoughts had you placed in bad situations.

Thankfully, Sunwoo did not make any comment about last night the moment you entered the studio. In fact, the only thing you two talked about was about the track. He probably did not want to put you in an awkward position, or maybe he felt awkward himself. Either way, the two of you continued to work by yourselves.

“Why aren’t you signed with a company?” Sunwoo asks the golden question that stops you from working.

You were not sure why the sudden question but all signs have to point to what Jiyoon said last night (or what she probably told The Boyz considering they are under the same company).

“You don’t have to answer–”

“Thank you, I won’t,” You say to end the conversation.

“I’m sorry if–”

“Sunwoo,” You interrupt before he could continue.

As you look away from the computer to look at him, you say, “Just continue working.” Your tone was laced with malice as you throw a glare at him. With that, Sunwoo chose to shut up and continue writing out his rap while you tried to finish the song.

The more you two continued on with work, the more you felt guilt piling in your stomach. Sunwoo was only asking a question and you treated him with such hostility. As you felt your heart get eaten away, you wondered how you could apologize to him.

Around 1 AM, it was safe to say that you were done with the base track. Thankfully, it also seemed that Sunwoo was done with the lyrics of his raps and Chanhee’s verses.

“Thank god! All we have to do is record the demo tomorrow and we’re good to go,” You say as you save the files into your USB.

Once you shut the computer down and stood up, you look back to see Sunwoo still seated on the couch. You let out a sigh as you look down at the USB in your hands.

“I’m sorry about earlier, and last night.” When you look back up at him, he had his eyes trained on you. You took a moment to think about how to approach the situation considering you fucked up.

“Do you… do you wanna grab something with me at the convenience store? Consider it an apology or an opportunity for me to explain,” You offer with a small smile.

With that, Sunwoo nods and stands up from his seat. Thank god Sunwoo is willing to hear you out.

Sunwoo took this opportunity to buy out the whole convenience store. As you two exit to take a seat in the outdoor area, his arms seemed to carry an abundance of snacks while you held onto strawberry milk and potato chips. Once the two of you got settled, you both dug into your snacks in comfortable silence.

“I’ll, uhm, explain,” You start off as you look down at your drink.

“You don’t have to if you aren’t ready to share that part with me,” Sunwoo reassures you before you could continue.

“I know, but… I trust you.” Both you and him were shocked at your words. “I–I was just thrown off a while ago because only a few people know that part of my life.”

The moment you look back up to Sunwoo, his doe eyes were full of concern. He knows that it is a sensitive topic if you snapped a while ago—and it is. Usually, you were not the type to snap at people, but this topic was a touchy issue.

“Well, you know that I used to be under JYP even before I debuted in 1CON.” Sunwoo nods. “I obviously had plans to be part of a girl group, which was ITZY if you didn’t overhear my conversation with Jiyoon. To be honest, the line-up for ITZY was tight considering that ten trainees were competing for it, including me,” You speak as you reveal the secrets of your past.

“The thing is that I was technically going to make it in the final line-up even before 1CON. So, when Soeun—who was also a staff member of JYP Entertainment—revealed that Ryujin, Chaeryeong, and I were going to audition for Produce 101, it shocked all of us. I mean, the three of us seemed like we were going to debut in ITZY, so why did we have to go through that shitty survival show?”

“Well, when Ryujin, Chaeryeong, and I made it into the final line-up, ITZY’s debut was pushed back as well. The time I spent with 1CON is something I would carry with me throughout this lifetime, but I can’t deny that the company that oversaw us was terrible.” You look down at your banana milk.

“Even after being in the final line-up for 1CON, there was this competitive nature that made it impossible for me to feel at ease. Of course, I can’t speak for everyone because most of us got along. However, I guess the most evident rivalry was between Jiyoon and I.” As you look at Sunwoo once more, he was only listening to what you had to say. There were no interruptions on his end, and that made you grateful.

“I mean, you’ve watched Produce 101, and I’m guessing you followed the news on my group. I’m sure most media outlets would focus on the rivalry between me and Jiyoon as fans would try to defend our relationship. As much as people wanted to believe that we were best friends, we really weren’t.”

“It also didn’t help that our company, Stone Entertainment, seemed to favor her over me. I swear, I respect her as a producer since we were the only people in the group who dabbled into that. Yet, it was always hard to be a producer for 1CON when your company denied your works or would completely rearrange it without giving you credit.”

“They did WHAT?!” Sunwoo exclaims for the first time since you opened up about this topic which has you giggling.

“Yeah, it was terrible. Stone Entertainment never touched Jiyoon’s works. If they did though, they always made sure to give her credit. The rivalry I had with Jiyoon was something I knew I lost the moment they took my name out of the credits for one of the tracks I produced for the group.” You sigh. “Of course, I couldn’t protest because I would be risking my position in 1CON. Along with that, JYP would have been pissed if I spoke up.”

“So yeah, I had to live under the shadow of Jiyoon. I thought that things would go better for me once I came back under the care of JYP, but I was mistaken. There was no creative freedom with the tracks I planned to produce for the group. In fact, it felt like I was being used by the company. And despite all the countless producers JYP had contact with, they made sure to use me somehow.”

“So, imagine this: I was being starved, overworked, and overwhelmed by JYP. The fact that I couldn’t do what I love without being constantly criticized took an absolute toll on me. What I went through with Stone Entertainment was traumatic in some way, to be honest. While I was trying to get over that, I had to deal with JYP.”

“In the end, I made the decision to leave, having to pay off any expenses that they covered. Soeun followed me, and it’s a burden I carry with me. I can’t pay her much despite all the work she’s done for me. Yet, she stuck with me, and I’m happy she’s taking the decision to work with IST.”

The silence that engulfs you two should be deafening, but it was calming for you. Vocalizing what you went through felt like a weight off your chest. Somehow, saying all of it made you realize just how much you had to go through to be where you are now.

Once you looked up, you were greeted by Sunwoo’s eyes which were full of sorrow.

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” He whispers which has you shaking your head.

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. In fact, the people who owe me an apology are JYP and Stone Entertainment,” You say with a laugh, looking at the starry sky.

“That’s why when netizens talk about how I’m a wasted opportunity or question what my future plans are, I don’t pay attention to them. What I went through at those two companies was enough to know how I’d be treated in the industry.” You sigh. “But I love music at the end of it all—I love the music I worked hard on.”

As you admired the sea of stars that seemed to surround you two, Sunwoo grabbed your hand from across the table. The moment you look back at him, he does not say anything. Instead, he continues to rub his thumb on your hand, drawing patterns as you two sit in what you shared.

You were over what happened then; you did not cry like you used to. Yet, there is something so comforting about Sunwoo’s hand caressing yours that says, “You can cry if you want to.” And cry you did.

The tears slowly streamed down your face, and you realized just how vulnerable you were around the man you supposedly just met a few days ago. Before you could say anything, you see Sunwoo give you a smile of sympathy as he continues to hold your hand that starts to shake.

Once the sobs started to pour out, you could not look at him anymore. Your body started to bend forward as you felt your heart start to ache at the memory. Somehow, you felt your body be brought towards the warm figure who was once seated across you. As Sunwoo let you cry into his chest, his arms stayed wrapped around your figure as he rubbed circles on your back.

You were never the person who could easily be vulnerable around others. Yet, it was so easy to be that way with Sunwoo. Despite the small period of time getting to know him, he did not seem to judge you as tears and snot continued to drip. That was the moment you realized that Sunwoo is everything good in this world.

Having to meet Sunwoo the next day to record the final track was probably the most nerve-wracking experience yet. In the past two days, you managed to k*ss him on the cheek (god, you hate thinking about it that you cannot even say it) and also sob your eyes out to the point his hoodie was soaked. You are not sure how you can embarrass yourself even more.

When you entered the recording studio, the universe seemed to save your ass since you saw Chanhee and Sunwoo together. Thankfully, there would be no opportunity to spend some time alone with him (at least for now).

“Ah, Y/N! It’s so nice to see you again,” Chanhee exclaims as he grabs your hand to shake it.

“It’s nice to see you too, Chanhee! Has Sunwoo shown you the lyrics and melody?”

“Yes, he did. I was practicing all night, so I’m hoping you’ll be satisfied later.” You shake your head with a smile on your face. The moment your eyes land on Sunwoo, you see his eyes on you. Still nervous from yesterday, you look back at Chanhee to get rid of the fact that Sunwoo was staring at you.

“No, this is your track. Whatever you do should live up to your standards. I’m sure whatever you do will blow my mind anyway,” You say letting go of his hand.

Once you take a seat in front of the mixing console, you say, “Chanhee, you can step into the recording booth first so we can record your parts. Sunwoo seems to have his rap under control, so let’s work hard to do the bigger tasks.”

The whole process of having Chanhee and Sunwoo record their parts seemed to pass by quickly. In fact, you managed to only spend two and a half hours just recording their parts since they wanted to experiment and figure out which went best.

What followed after was for you to combine their vocals with the track. It did not take much, which surprised you. Usually, you would struggle with this segment of the process. Yet, it helped to have Sunwoo and Chanhee in the room as they talked about whatever.

As you were immersed in cleaning up the final track, you never noticed how Sunwoo was preoccupied with admiring you. Although Chanhee caught sight of it, he continued to talk to the wall to not blow his best friend’s cover.

What you do not catch is one boy whispering to the other about admitting his feelings for you after everything.

On the next day, you were not as nervous as you expected to be (maybe it is because Chanhee and Sunwoo enjoyed the final product). You were seated with the two across from Jihoon, Soeun, and the CEO of IST Entertainment, Mr. Yoon, to present the final track.

“Thank you again for meeting with us today and accepting the offer to produce the track for Chanhee and Sunwoo,” Mr. Yoon says with a smile.

“Of course, it is a pleasure to be given this opportunity,” You say as you bow your head.

“Can you give us a brief explanation of what you have prepared for us?”

With that, you nod and give Chanhee and Sunwoo to explain the meaning behind the song.

“Mr. Yoon, the track we have prepared with Y/N is entitled “Don’t,” which is a love story with a twist. It’s a story between two people who started off casually flirting but slowly realize that they have feelings for each other,” Chanhee starts off.

“The story of this song is that the two possible lovers don’t want to admit anything and would like to stay away from alcohol in fear that they might confess under the influence,” Sunwoo continues, allowing you to say the last segment of the explanation.

“The track is R&B with a Soul feel. Sunwoo is responsible for creating the meaning behind this track, and I just worked with his idea. We hope you enjoy what we have to offer,” You finish off the explanation and signal Soeun to play the track for Mr. Yoon.

As the track played, you noticed Soeun, Jihoon, and Mr. Yoon going along with the music. In fact, it looked like they were enjoying it. As you were waiting for the track to end, you felt someone’s hand grab onto yours from under the table. When you look down, you notice that it was Sunwoo’s hand that grabbed yours. The moment you look at Sunwoo who is seated beside you, he does not spare you a glance but continues to hold your hand that rests on your lap.

You two have not talked about the k*ss on the cheek or the sob moment you had back at the convenience store. In fact, you have not talked about how he held your hand in the car or how he held your face to calm you down. Never once did you two mention the flirtatious comments you two would throw at each other.

So, what happens once the track gets approved? Will these all stop once you and Sunwoo do not have to work together anymore? What will happen to the relationship between you two?

The moment the track reaches its end, you are snapped back to reality. Once you look back at Mr. Yoon, you see him nodding with a small smile. He seemed to look satisfied with the final output.

“Y/N, I really enjoy what you put for us today. Your specialty is really with R&B tracks considering the artists you’ve produced for.” You were not sure whether that was a compliment or not since you produced tracks of different genres.

“Here at IST, we really appreciate what you put in for us. We’ll make sure to make good use of this demo.” You started to frown.

“I’m sorry, demo?” You ask, clarifying what you just heard.

“Yes, demo,” Mr. Yoon answers, leaving you taken back.

“Demo? Mr. Yoon, we agreed on Y/N producing the final track. This is not a demo,” Soeun says as she shared the same confusion you had. Mr. Yoon snaps his fingers, signaling for Jihoon to respond.

“Uhm, we sent an email a few days ago to Y/N’s email to inform them of the changes in the contract. We assumed that you two got the memo despite getting no response.” With that, you immediately stand up from your seat, Sunwoo’s hand not holding yours anymore.

“Even if, you should have clarified with me regarding this matter. I mean, we saw each other recently. Why did you not bother to ask me if I received your email?” You ask in disbelief as you set your hands on the table.

“If you were signed with a company, then you wouldn’t have to bother with fixing your habit of reading emails,” Mr. Yoon comments, which makes you scoff.

“Ah, so it’s like that then. The nerve of this company to comment on how I am an independent producer is disrespectful. Mr. Yoon, I’ll have you know that I signed that contract under the impression it would be the final track. I cannot accept giving you this as a demo knowing my work would be taken advantage of.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but we are only willing to accept it as a demo.” You cross your arms as you shake your head in disbelief.

“Mr. Yoon, don’t think this is the first time people have attempted to screw me over. I’ll have you know that I’ve been in this industry longer than your groups. Chanhee and Sunwoo can keep their lyrics while I keep my track. This agreement is over,” You say as you step away from the table, storming off the room to leave Soeun to deal with the rest.

As you made your way out of the building, you began to walk on the sidewalk to think about what just happened. Yet, you heard someone calling your name from behind. As you let out a sigh, you stood still in place and feel Sunwoo’s hand grab onto your shoulder.

“What now, Sunwoo?”

“I’m sorry about–”

“Sunwoo, you don’t need to apologize for anything. It’s your CEO and manager that need to apologize for the fact that they modified the contract without my knowledge, attempted to take advantage of my work to call it their own, and insulted me as an independent artist and producer,” You say as you were shocked with how things turned out.

Clearly, you were not in the right headspace to continue talking about what just happened. In fact, you were pissed with the events that transpired a while ago. You signed up to produce the final track with possible minimal changes, not a fucking demo.

“Y/N, will you hear me out?” Sunwoo asks which makes you let out a sigh.

“Yes, sorry. Please, say what you need to say,” You say, hoping he would understand what you felt considering how you opened up to him two days ago.

“I think you should still agree to it.”

Upon hearing those words, your mouth opens in shock. The one person you trusted to understand what you felt about this issue seemed to be turning their back on you. Considering that Sunwoo knew what you went through, you could not believe what he was asking you to do.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’ll still be a good opportunity! I’ll make sure they credit you for it, and I’ll even express my gratitude to ensure that people know you worked on this.” You let out a chuckle of disbelief as you shake off his hand that was once resting on your shoulder (and held your hand countless times).

“Kim Sunwoo, I expected better from you.” Before he could say anything, you cut him off.

“No, you don’t get to speak just yet. Sunwoo, you are an artist in this industry. You know how companies treat demos, and how there are opportunities for artists like me to get fucked over. Your company is not that different from others; they only care for profit as artists continue to struggle in this fucked up industry.”

“Sunwoo, I can’t believe that after everything I told you a few days ago, you dare to ask me something so difficult. I would have thought that out of all the people you would be the one who would understand, but clearly, you are no different from the companies who took advantage of me.”

You stand there for a few seconds in hopes to hear Sunwoo argue that he is not like the people who took advantage of you. In fact, you were waiting for him to say he understood and that he would like to apologize. But when no words came out of his mouth, that is when you knew that you were played with.

“Yeah, fuck you, Sunwoo. Don’t bother contacting me again.” With that, you stormed off and left him to sit in with what you said. You did not like to admit it but you were sure you felt tears fall as you continued to make your way back home on foot.

if you liked this, please take some time to like and reblog this!

[lemoncrushh]

OLD FICS REPOSTING

STARTING MONDAY, JULY 8...

I will begin reposting my three completed long fics. These are multi-chaptered fics that I wrote between 2015 and 2018. Please note, these are all Harry x OC fics, two are AUs and one is Real Harry.

I WILL BE POSTING ONE CHAPTER OF EACH FIC PER DAY. So, you can follow along easily or wait til the end and binge them all.

Below is a brief synopsis of each fic, along with warnings. ALL THREE ARE OLDER WOMAN OCs. If this is not your thing, or it turns you off, PLEASE do not read. I got hate for these in the past (and some snarky comments on Wattpad), and I am just too old and tired to defend them anymore. In my opinion, the age thing shouldn't matter, but I would rather put it out there first before I get messages about it.

Just PLEASE REMEMBER TO BE KIND. I have a heart just like everybody else, and I am sensitive. I enjoy interacting with readers and other writers. Feedback is always appreciated, but rude comments will be blocked.

Obviously, you must be over 18 to read my fics.

Summary: After a few years of being a housewife, Tisa Jordan decided to go back to school. Hoping to find inspiration and a new direction in life, she didn't expect to meet Harry Styles, a handsome British twenty-year-old.

When It Was Written: I started this fic around the end of 2014 when I'd just become a Harry fan, and it was completed in 2015. It was my very first Harry fic.

The Characters and Face Claims: This Harry is 20 (he turns 21 at the end), and Tisa is 32. The girl for the face claim of Tisa was just a model in a random stock photo I found, so I don't know who she is. The character Zack is based on Zayn, and Penny is based on Perrie Edwards. Also, I think I used Ashton Irwin for the face claim of Joey, Liam for Grayson, Olivia Wilde for Justine (complete coincidence, I promise lol), Renee Olstead for Liz, and Lea Michele as Britney. I did not use a face claim for James.

Warnings: age gap (older woman), infidelity, smut, unprotected sex, divorce, angst (LOTS), drinking, mentions of mental abuse and dysfunctional childhood

Number of Chapters: 39 (chapters are a bit short in the beginning because I didn't keep track of word counts back then.)

Posting Time: 10AM CDT

Summary: I'm Harry. I have a mundane job where I sit in a cubicle all day. But things just got better because the hottest babe just started working here. And I'm determined to make her mine, even if just for one night. I'm Roni. I just started this new job, but all I can think about is the hottie in the corner cubicle. I think he likes me too.

When It Was Written: This was started in 2015 and finished in 2017 (it was on hold off and on for a while). It started really with just the urge to write about a cocky Harry and eventually turned into a long story. There is a lot of smut, but it ends up having a lot of drama as well.

The Characters and Face Claims: So, as you can see from the cheeky lil summary, this is written in two points of view. This Harry is based on 2013 Harry, so he's 19. Roni is 27. I don't believe I used any face claims for any of the other characters.

Warnings: age gap (older woman), smut, angst (LOTS) * Just want to add that in both this fic and the one above, the characters have unprotected sex. This was simply an oversight on my part. I was married when I wrote these and had not used a condom in years, so it was simply not on my mind. I got called out for it, don't worry lol.

Number of Chapters: 22

Posting Time: 2PM CDT

Summary: Stacey Barnett is a writer and a single mother. Her hands full with two daughters (one with special needs), a newly published novel, an extroverted best friend and a controlling ex-husband, the last thing she expects is to meet an international pop star.

When It Was Written: I started this story in 2016 when I was going through my own divorce, so it's very personal to me. I didn't actually finish it until 2019. Sometimes you write something that you think is going to be a big hit and when it's not, it kind of crushes your spirit. While I knew this was not for everyone, I think because it was so personal to me, it was hard for me to take any criticism (and it still is, tbh).

The Characters and Face Claims: This is the only one of the three that is about Real Harry. The story takes place when he's just released his first solo album, although in this he never cut his hair, and his movie (which is not named) came out before the album. The face claim for Stacey is Rachelle Lefevre. She is 40. Her bestie Lorelei's face claim is Tabrett Bethell. I did not use any other face claims, although most of the other characters are based on real people in my life - Stacey's daughters are mine, her mom is mine, and her ex-husband is mine. I just changed the names.

Warnings: age gap (older woman), smut, angst, mentions of divorce, autism (child), seizures (child), insecurities, flashbacks, nightmares, mental health issues * Again, this mentions a lot of personal issues I had and was going through at the time. I am not exaggerating when I say this is LOADED with angst. You will get angry at the characters, especially Stacey. But please remember to have a heart, because she's been through a lot and doesn't always react the way you think she should.

Number of Chapters: 33

Posting Time: 6PM CDT

In addition, I also have playlists curated for all of these on Spotify. I will link them on the story pages.

Again, please be kind. But if you have any feedback as I post, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Remember, just because they're older fics doesn't mean you can't comment :).

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

Also, if you enjoy my writing, please consider joining my Patreon!

[annabelle1901]

Lost Frank Castle x Karen Page fic

Hi! So I don't really interact with anyone on Tumblr but I don't really know what else to do, so here we go. I'm back on my Kastle bullshit <3 and I've been trying to find this old fan fiction on AO3 that I started reading years ago. Stopped reading after a certain point but had the tab open on my phone and I thought I'd continue reading eventually.. And then my phone got stolen, and I forgot the title & author name. Not great. I've dedicated the past few days to looking for it and so far I got nothing.

So what I'm gonna do is write down everything I remember like a mad woman in the hope that this jogs someones memory. Please help me this fic haunts me. ANY sort of reference or whatever could potentially help (Tumblr posts, links, screenshots, Google history, etc)

Fandom: Daredevil/ the Punisher obv

Pairing: Frank Castle/ Karen Page

Rating: probably explicit (canon typical violence and eventual smut)

Published: 2016-2017 (started post s2 Daredevil but pre The Punisher s1 because I don't remember any of the plot or characters from that show showing up) might have been deleted in 2020ish

Length: has to be +10 chapters (long chapters as well, don't know if it was finished)

Characters: Matt Murdock/ Daredevil, Foggy Nelson, Claire Temple, Elektra Natchios (I vividly remember them making some sort of appearance)

now let's get really unhinged...

Plot:

Pretty sure the story starts on Karen's birthday but her mood is meh.. She's on her way home or something, gets in her car and Shining Star starts playing which let's her know that Frank was recently there. Something else must have alarmed her because she goes looking for him and finds him in like an alley around her building. He's in really bad shape, bloody practically dying. She carries him to her apartment and either helps him herself or calls Claire Temple.*

*Don't think it was in this part of the story but she helps Frank and makes a joke about him not being healthy enough to be sleeping with Karen anytime soon which makes them blush. Don't think they were intimate yet but tensions were rising.

For the next couple of chapters I remember it was mainly beautifully written angst between them in this contained space while he's healing. Karen doesn't want Frank to get killed while being the Punisher, he resists her care and tries to hurt her by saying "You aren't Maria and could never be" or something.

I also vividly remember a scene where he's grieving and keeps like tugging on this necklace Karen has on while he cries in her arms. She leaves her necklace at his family's graves and the groundskeeper or something tells her not to do that because it'll get stolen but she knows that but does it anyway as a sign of respect.

They sort admit their feelings eventually but don't sleep together yet because they know they can't go back after that. For some reason Frank needs to leave the city for a little while to re-home a dog I believe he found while on a "mission" and the idea is that the time apart will help them decide whether or not they want to be together. They reunite on a sunny, lovely day in the city and go back to her apartment and lots of smut ensues. Daredevil shows up at midnight/ morning to get Frank. Something's going down he needs his help. It doesn't end well somehow Karen gets involved and they both go to the same hospital. Frank is in a coma and Karen visits him when she's allowed and urges him to live sort of mirroring when he first got shot in the head at the carousel. He wakes up but needs to go back to prison. Everything is really bad. The press somehow knows about their relationship as well. Last scene I remember is Karen and Foggy talking about all this and a newspaper printing a picture of Karen's legs with the caption Keys to the Castle? or something. Gross everything sucks and that's where I stopped reading.

So that's about all I can remember, feels like a fever dream. If anyone could help me out I'd really appreciate it. Thx!!

[amethystina]

Oh man!! The latest chapter!!! The angst was angsting, pain was paining, heart is wrenching, tear is falling, it was soooo mean, but do it again!!!

It was the longest chapter and ironically the most painful chapter as well. Have I said how much I love slow burn and angst and this fic hits home everytime?? Likeee woah I just LOVE how this fic is LOOONG , nowhere near close bc that means I get me read it longer lol.

And I feel like I would never be able to appreciate how much hard work you put in Who Holds the Devil.

I am guessing it is now Ga On's turn to pursue Yohan and Oh man I can already imagine how much he is gonna suffer while doing it 😭 or maybe not (bc he tends to be pretty straightforward at times and impulsive as well) but I believe it's gonna be pretty hard bc Gaon has so much shit to get together and Yohan, my man, already gave up (poor him) so gaon trying to persue him or rather seduce his sugar daddy would look very suspicious to him. Nevertheless I am exited to see Gaon try and miserably, comically and hilariously half fail bc he will succeed eventually as Yohan is too much of a loser for Gaon lol. I am excited for future chapters and definitely wouldn't complain about more angst lol.

It was necessary for this to happen, otherwise the story would go nowhere and most importantly Gaon and Yohan would go nowhere, their problems will never be solved. Sometimes hitting rock bottom is crucial to develop in life BUT I would hate it if it happens to me, hope I will be able to get my shits together before that happens ( or maybe it already happened but I am not relizing it or not acknowledging it much like gaon but he is better than me ngl at least he has the courage)

This became a rant about me naur 😭

Lastly I hope you have a great day and things work out for you 💕

Also idk if it's your cup of tea but My Happy Ending kdrama is sooo good and worth giving it a try. It's a psychological suspense drama hehe. I am soo invested in it nowadays so couldn't help recommending you as well 💫

It was a painful chapter, yeah. And I'm both relieved and heartbroken to finally have it out there. As someone who doesn't actually like angst, this chapter was a struggle in more than one way. But it's necessary if I want their relationship to move forward, so here we are.

At this point, writing Who Holds the Devil has sort of turned into a second job, not going to lie. I still enjoy it, make no mistake, but I have to plan all of my other hobbies around it since I feel an obligation to post somewhat regularly. Like, I've been postponing drawing for the past two weeks because I wanted to get this chapter out (that's how long it took to edit, yes) but drawing is the thing that helps the most with my depression symptoms (that have made an unwanted reappearance due to my burnout), so I've been struggling quite a bit. And now all I want to do is draw for a couple of days.

So yeah. I can't lie and say it's not a lot of work, both in terms of planning, writing, editing, etc., but also how it affects the rest of my life. BUT I just love it too much to give up on it ;)

And yes, Ga On will have to be the one to pursue Yo Han now ;) Or, well, eventually. He has to wallow and overthink things a bit first because, well, Ga On. If overthinking things was an Olympic sport, he'd win the gold for sure. But he WILL give Yo Han what he wants in the end, I promise.

In short, the "the only way after hitting rock bottom is up" saying is pretty apt in this case.

There's still hope, so just hang in there :)

I looked at the plot for My Happy Ending but I admit it didn't really catch my attention. But that could be because I don't really watch much right now? I'm too busy writing and drawing. I'm also trying to finish a drama I started ages ago called Mad Dog. Which, let me tell you, it's disorientingly gay for a drama about insurance fraud. But unlike The Devil Judge I'm not sure if they're actually AWARE of how gay it is? (especially since it's from 2017)

But, like, if I had a penny for every time I've watched a drama in which a traumatised, older man brings home a reckless, bratty twink after said twink got injured — under the pretence of protecting him from more harm — only for the twink to start snooping around his house before deciding to charm the dude with home-cooked food and then just doesn't leave I would have two pennies. Which isn't a lot, but it's still weird that it's happened twice.

Also, what the heck do they want me to think when they have these kinds of angles when the two dudes are arguing?

That looks questionable both in and out of context. BUT that could also be because Woo Do Hwan could have sexual tension with a goddamn rock. Rarely have I seen a man with so much "fuck me and find out" energy as his character in this drama.

But the twink also has a romantic plotline with the woman on the team, at the same time as he's living in the older dude's apartment and giving this poor dude all kinds of conflicted feelings because he's a widower who's lived alone since his wife and kid died and suddenly there's someone in his apartment cooking him food, nagging at him when he comes late and drunk etc. etc. Like, bruh. It really sounds like the twink is his new wife? And I am SO CONFUSED because the drama plays it so straight (without the "hint, hint, nudge, nudge" winks that The Devil Judge had) that I'm about to have an existential crisis.

Fellas, is it gay if this is the face you make when you're told you're not actually living with the man who took you home to keep you safe after you almost got murdered but then you accidentally behaved like his concerned and doting wife?

Asking for a friend.

(and don't even get me started on the whole "Bring Your Twink to Work Day" scene)

At this point, I'm half convinced I'm gaslighting myself into thinking this is gay when it's actually just a really heartwarming story about a really deep bromance that I'm too queer to understand.

ANYWAY. Thanks for the rec! But I'm not sure if it's my thing and I'm really bad at watching things right now. But I'm thrilled to hear that you're having so much fun with it! I'm happy for you! :D

And thank you so much for the lovely message 💜

[xsatoru]

When Lightning Strikes...

Welcome to the introduction and masterlist for When Lightning Strikes…

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Genres: JJK almost canon-compliant manga!universe, Canon-typical violence, Character death(s), Childhood haters to lovers!au, Slow burn!au, Angst, Fluff, Future smut (minors dni!), more to come…

Warnings: Listed per each chapter

Word Count: TBD (see below)

All you ever wanted as a young child was to be a strong, well-respected sorcerer. Standing one day shoulder-to-shoulder as the leading family representative with others worthy to serve as pillars meant to support and maintain balance in the jujutsu world. But being born as a woman in a conservative, patriarchal society still stubbornly stuck in its outdated ways makes that simple goal seem damn near impossible. It especially doesn't help to live in the same timeline as Satoru Gojo, modern-day's mightiest of them all. The legendary Six Eyes wielder just so happens to be a fellow classmate, friends with a friend's friend, and the bane of your entire existence. But similar to your cursed technique, when unpredictable lightning strikes, every pivotal moment that's sure to follow could uproot the very structure of a world that desperately needs changed. Your fate continuously seems to intertwine with Satoru, whose life goal may not be so different from yours.

This series plans to cover 8 main parts, an 18+ epilogue, and an additional bonus at the end. Warnings will be listed with each chapter that's posted. The last main chapter will probably feature smut and as this account is already considered 18+, minors please do not interact! Finally, the plot follows the canon manga (with a few deviations) until it suddenly doesn't for obvious reasons, but please beware of some major spoilers!!

Please subscribe on ao3 or asked to be tagged on tumblr for chapter installments. I will post on tumblr and update the section below with progress reports since some things are subject to change during writing. Thank you Tiff (@fuckvernon) for the vibe check 💖 Reblogs appreciated!

Updates: As of January 2, 2024 — currently writing Chapter 5

Current word count: ~20k+

Chapter 1 — Chaos is Likely to Ensue

It's 2004. You are a first-year at the Tokyo branch of Jujutsu High. So is Satoru Gojo, the bane of your existence. You hate each other's guts, so the only reason you'd ever kiss one another would be in an alternate universe, right?

Chapter 2 — Heartbeats Race a Little Faster

A return to Jujutsu High for Winter Break somehow also means celebrating the strongest sorcerer's 19th birthday. As the #1 Satoru Gojo hater, you have to be there, of course — if only to stir up some good old chaos!

Chapter 3 — Eyes Linger on the Afterimage Before It Fades

Nearly 10 years after meeting Satoru Gojo as a first-year, you're still stuck dealing with him existing somewhere in your vicinity. But college is ending, you're going back… home, and real life is just beginning. Things couldn't be any better when it's the calm before the storm.

Chapter 4 — Fractal Scars Sear Into Tender Flesh

December 24, 2017. A date jujutsu society will forever remember as the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons — a cursed terrorist attack on the cities of Kyoto and Shinjuku. Its orchestrator, a face much too familiar for comfort, dreams of a perfect reality without non-sorcerers and curses.

Chapter 5 — Thunder Follows With a Quiet Rumble

The aftermath of the attack results in employment at the school you once attended. Under the guise of needing a teacher for future third-years, Masamichi Yaga offers a deal to protect you from the Higher-Ups. The mastermind behind it all is none other than the bane of your existence and you must unwillingly put up with him, the ghosts of your past, and those you left behind.

Chapter 6 — The Sky Weeps in Her Torrential Mourning

On October 31, 2018 at 9:26 pm in Shibuya — Satoru Gojo is sealed. Losing the world's strongest sorcerer becomes instantly noticeable and lowers morale, especially when those dear to you fall one by one.

Chapter 7 — A Phoenix Rises From the Ashes

"They've revoked Yuji Itadori's death sentence and appointed me as his immediate executioner." As if things couldn't get any worse after Satoru Gojo's exiled and the removal of his seal is now considered a criminal act, the death penalty executed by a special grade is coming for anyone associated with the most powerful sorcerer in 400 years.

Chapter 8 — The World Pauses to Watch, Holds Its Breath, and Counts

No one ever told you a lethal battle royale is all it would take to come to terms with your family ties and cursed technique. After trusting the students in the Culling Games, it's your turn to step up and face the strongest jujutsu sorcerer from a thousand years ago. Armed with newfound confidence, can you succeed before he annihilates his competition?

Chapter 9 — A Ceraunophile is Born (Epilogue with 18+ Content)

Ceraunophile (n): a person who loves lightning and thunder, a lover of thunderstorms.

Chapter 10 — Bonus Content

Tidbits I can't fit into the main story line that mostly provide more insight into Satoru's point of view.

xsatoru: January 2024 ©

[undergroundkdrama]

#KDRAMAWOMENSWEEK 2023 | March 8th – 15th  2023

[alternatively: a week and one day to talk about and make things for women you appreciate in celebration of International Women’s Day] Inspired by @evansbrewster that’s no longer on Tumblr.com.

@kdramaladies will be hosting the event as well. I’ll reblog where I can and try to be present. Prompts courtesy of @dramaheroine who has dont 99.9999% of getting this week to happen, prompts and more, thanks so much. Gifs courtesy of @cuddlybitch, @haeyeongs and @orangesyellow. Thank you all so so much. Thank you to everyone that checks in about this when I am sure I’ll be sitting it out. KWW has been happening for eight years, this being the ninth which is nuts.

Please tag your posts #kdramawomensweek and/or @undergroundkdrama so they are easier to find, admire, and reblog.

Day 1: In Her Head

Women with rich inner worlds, full of hidden thoughts, desires and fantasies. Are her thoughts being revealed to the viewers in visually exciting ways? Think dream sequences, a touch of magical realism, voiceovers, a cut to a talking head or perhaps weird little animated cells…

Day 2: “It” Girl

2021 was all about Haves and Haves Not x2000. 2022 was the year of women in the legal profession. Tell us which of the characters fitting this year’s trend you have enjoyed the most and why. What made them better than the rest? Or what else do you think has been a popular theme/genre/topic for 2022 dramas? How did women fit into the equation? Here are a few examples: gangsters, “behind the scenes”, school violence, countryside living etc.

Day 3: The Help

Women holding everything together in the background, women who have to do all the dirty work, who do thankless labour regardless of the setting or time period. Servants, secretaries, domestic staff, cleaners, nurses, nannies, care workers, housewives…Let’s put some time aside to ‘celebrate those who don’t celebrate’ because they are too busy keeping things running.

Day 4: Bad Girls Club

Everyone loves an angst filled, angry revenge drama so lets talk about the women who seek revenge? Women who hold grudges and whose hearts are filled with rage. Women who hurt others (knowingly and unknowingly). Women who seek power over others and/or themselves in cruel ways. A day for celebrating women’s wrongs.

Day 5: Recommend Her!

Choose your fave – give us a Top 10 that you think she’d make e.g. Spotify Wrapped, her 2023 reading list, her watchlist. Personally, I think that Lee Yeo Reum from Summer Strike listens to a playlist like this (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3yrqVOEnwQG4z8czX8qD4k?si=36e45bbaeaad4892) as she walks around the village trying to make sense of who she is and what she wants. Today’s a day for projecting and recommending. Sneak your recs in here.

Day 6: Funny Girl Woman

We know women are funny, here’s your time to show love to the actresses who predominately act in comedies, female characters who you find hilarious and actresses who provide the perfect comedic relief every time they pop up onscreen.

Day 7: Lee Yoon Jung/Noh Hee Kyung OR Surprise!

Two pioneering women behind many of our classic favourite dramas. Think of this as a space for tributes to them, what you love about their dramas, Lee Yoon Jung’s direction, Noh Hee Kyung’s writing, your favourite female characters from their dramas… OR  Your favourite cameos by actresses! Who used their tiny bit of screen time in the best way possible?!

Day 8: Timeslip

What if time travel really existed? What if two female characters from different dramas, from different tv eras could meet? How are they connected? Why should they meet? Think of this as an opportunity for you to travel back in time.

Please also feel free to be inspired by the prompts from previous years (2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2020 Part Deux, 2021, 2022).