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hopelikethemoon · 4 years ago

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Conclusions (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Conclusions Rating: PG-13 Length: 2100 Warnings: Angst (fear of abandonment, jumping to conclusions) Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in November 1992. Shoutout to @heather-lynn for unintentionally convincing me to finish this. Summary: Reader wakes up alone.

Taglist: @grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @snivellusim @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @longitud-de-onda @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @seeking-a-great--perhaps @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx @punkass-potato @coredrive @pascalesque @theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar @sabinemorans @buckstaposition (if I forget to tag you, I’m sorry)

Despite how exhausted you were every day, sleep seemed to be a rather difficult pursuit to achieve. A pursuit that seemed to evade you until those last few hours before your alarm clock went off and a new day was forced to begin. Even on the weekends, your body refused to let you get more than a handful of hours of sleep.

Being pregnant sucked. At least you weren’t throwing up quite as frequently as you were in those first few months.

Recently — very recently — you had discovered that Javier was pretty good at putting you to sleep. Sure, he gave a killer back massage, but his real skills came from his mouth. That first night with him hadn’t given him the opportunity to show off what his mouth could do.

All Javi had to do was spend an hour or so between your legs, helping you crest over the edge, and in the post-orgasm haze your body finally gave in and let you relax.

But just because he got you to fall asleep, didn’t mean the baby growing inside you would let you stay asleep. Like clockwork, somewhere around one or two in the morning you’d find yourself wide awake until you finally fell back asleep somewhere around five. It was torture.

The sunlight streaming through your bedroom window was what started to wake you up at first. You stirred, stretching your legs out beneath the covers — seeking a cool spot to keep them as you started to roll over onto your other side.

“What time is it?” You mumbled, eyes still closed as you reached out beside you. Your heart sank as you found the bed beside you empty.

It was the weekend. Javier always stayed over for the weekend.

You ran your hand over the sheets beside you, finding them cool to the touch. He hadn’t been laying there for at least an hour. Maybe longer.

Had he said something about not being able to stay? As far as you knew, he wasn’t on assignment this weekend. Javier tried his best to avoid being thrown into the field over the weekends — it was the only time the two of you could just be.

A rush of unbidden emotion flooded your senses.

What if he had left? What if, at some point last night, he’d decided he didn’t want this. The baby. You.

And that cut you to the core.

Maybe you deserved it. After all, you’d been the one to leave him first. Was this how he felt the morning after? Confused. Alone.

You rolled onto your back, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes in a vain attempt to forestall the tears that you felt brimming in them. You couldn’t fucking stand how emotional you were. You were never one to cry. You’d been through too much shit in your life to sit around and cry about it… but pregnancy?

Everything made you want to cry.

But this? The sudden rush of fear that Javier had finally had enough of this bullshit, made you want to crawl into a hole and die. You could do this alone, if you had to… but you couldn’t do it in Colombia.

Knowing what it felt like to be loved by him — losing that? You weren’t going to subject yourself to the pain of having to work across an office from him. Maybe they’d let you transfer to another office stateside.

You could go back to Atlanta, if they’d have you there. You’d left on good terms and given your situation, you’d take a shitty desk job just to stay with the agency. You’d work your way back up from the groundfloor if you had to.

The tears fell freely, trailing down over your temples and dampening your pillow just above your ears. You stared up at the ceiling, willing yourself to stop jumping to conclusions. But you were already mapping out a future for you and your baby that didn’t include Javier. And that brought on a fresh wave of tears.

You could do this on your own. You didn’t need anyone. You were actually really good at living your life alone. Besides, you wouldn’t be alone if you had your daughter. You wouldn’t fail her the way you had been failed.

Reluctantly you sat up, wiping away the tears as they slid down your cheeks. Fuck. What a shitty way to start off a Saturday — crying almost always caused you to suffer through a headache for the rest of the day.

Thanks Javier.

You frowned as your eyes flickered to the corner of the room, where Javier’s jeans had been tossed last night. They were still right there, untouched… alongside his boots. Huh. While he had plenty of pairs of extra pants stored in your dresser — he only had the one pair of boots.

Somehow you doubted he’d been in such a haste to leave that he’d fled your apartment barefoot.

You looked towards your bedroom door as you heard a shuffling sound on the other side of it, just before it was pushed open slowly and Javier popped his head through the crack. He looked surprised to see you awake, though that surprise quickly shifted into worry as he met your eyes. “Baby, have you been crying?”

“No.” You lied, wiping at your cheeks.

“Hey…” Javier said gently as he climbed into bed with you. He reached out and took your hands into his, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of them. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head as you looked away from him, your eyes fixed on the window. “I feel like a fucking idiot.” You admitted, squeezing his hands tightly, before you pulled your hands from his grasp. “Oh my God.” You covered your face as you brought your knees towards your chest as tears started to fall anew.

Javier hesitated at first. You couldn’t blame him for being confused. When else had he had to deal with a hormonal pregnant woman? “Baby. Baby.” He reached out, running his hand over your back before he moved to sit behind you, pulling you back against his chest.

You turned, tucking your head under his chin as you let him hold you. “I hate crying.” You complained, sniffling as you wiped away your tears as they slid down your cheeks. “I hate it.”

“You wanna tell me why you’re crying?” He questioned, playing his fingers through your hair, cradling the back of your neck.

“It’s stupid.” You admitted. “So fucking stupid.”

“I bet it isn’t,” He whispered as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You sighed heavily, your voice wavering as you answered him. “I thought you left.”

“What?” You felt the way he stiffened beneath you and it made your heart ache.

“I woke up and you weren’t in bed.” You started, chewing on your bottom. “I immediately jumped to conclusions and assumed you left.”

“Baby, why would you think that?”

“Because I’m pregnant.” You shoved him lightly in the chest, pulling back to meet his eyes.

“All these tears are because you thought I left?” He questioned, arching a brow as he regarded you.

“I told you it was stupid.” You pulled yourself out of his hold, trying to move away from him. “Let go, I need to pee.”

Javier’s arms went slack around you, letting you crawl out of the bed and away from him. You ducked out the bedroom door, heading across the hall to the bathroom.

You did need to pee, but in reality, you just wanted to escape from him. Just for a little while.

At first, you’d thought the sleepless nights, nausea, and the constant need to pee would be the worst part of pregnancy, but in reality it was the tidal wave of emotions that constantly plagued you. Honestly, the men at work were lucky you hadn’t turned them in eunuchs over the slightest inconvenience.

Fresh tears started falling again as you sat on the toilet. You hadn’t fully addressed just how much you were afraid of him leaving you. Sure, you’d said as much to him (maybe not in so many words) but the fear was real and ever-present. You didn’t need him, but you wanted him. You desperately wanted him to stay.

And you still hadn’t even told him that you loved him. Those three little words still lived somewhere deep inside of you, too precious to let loose until you were positive he wasn’t going to break your heart.

You hadn’t bothered to lock the door in your haste, which meant there was nothing preventing Javier from barrelling straight into the bathroom with you.

“Javier! Get out.” You hissed, grabbing the spare roll of toilet paper and chucking it at him. “We are not at this level yet.”

“Baby, I held your hair up while you puked up a day’s worth of food three nights ago. You sitting on the toilet isn’t going to sour a goddamn thing.” Javier picked up the roll of toilet paper, sitting it on the sink as he knelt down beside you. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing quietly as you stared down at the floor in front of you. “Don’t apologize, Javi. You’re allowed to get out of bed,” You grabbed a piece of toilet paper and wiped at the tear tracks on your cheeks. “I’m just being fucking emotional.”

He reached out and gave your knee a squeeze, “Look, I don’t know much about pregnancy, but I think it’s pretty normal to be emotional, baby. Don’t beat yourself over this.”

You clenched your eyes closed for a moment, before you finally focused your gaze on him. “I just hate how quickly I jumped to the conclusion, Javi. I didn’t even consider that you might’ve been—”

“Making breakfast for you?” Javier leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your knee, before he peeled himself up off the floor. “I thought I’d do something nice and make breakfast for you. So you didn’t have to get out of bed yet.”

You sniffled, wiping away another tear as it slid down your cheek. “You didn’t have to make me breakfast in bed, Javi.” You mumbled, chewing on your bottom lip as you felt it tremble. “Now I feel like an even bigger ass.”

“Baby.” He sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m not gonna stand here and let you beat yourself up about this.” You stared at him for a long moment, before he clicked his tongue against his teeth and jerked his head towards the door. “Come on. Your tea’s gonna be cold by the time we get back out there.”

You stood up and flushed the toilet, before moving to wash your hands off at the sink. “Are you going to keep watching me?” You questioned, turning to look at him.

“Yeah. I don’t trust you not to lock the door after I walk out of here.” He gave you a pointed look. “C’mere, baby.” Javier held his arms out for you. “I’m not going to judge you for how you react. Ever.”

You moved towards him and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. “I just hated how I felt.” You admitted, looking up at him as you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promised you, giving your hips a squeeze as they settled there. “I promise you, you’re stuck with me.”

“I know.” You sighed, rubbing at the spot between your brows. “Did you say you made tea?”

“You got a headache?”

“Of my own making, unfortunately.” You grumbled. “Maybe a little caffeine from the tea will help it.”

“I made your favorite,” Javier told you with a soft smile, leaning down to kiss the spot your fingers had just soothed. He pressed a second kiss to your nose and then a third to your lips. “Do you have anything planned for today?”

You shook your head slowly.

“Good.” He cupped your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. “I think we deserve a day spent in bed.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “I think it might do us both some good.”

You reached down and interlaced your fingers with his, squeezing three times. How had you let yourself be so easily convinced that he was going to leave you? The way he looked at you — the way he’d always looked at you — was not the look of a man who had plans to abandon you. That sort of adoration was a once in a lifetime thing.

And you’d both been willing to wait for it.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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illfoandillfie · 5 years ago

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Welcome Home

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Summery: Roger’s delayed getting home from tour.

Warnings: SMUT (18+),but it’s like light smut lmao,cock warming,morning sex,just like some fluffy bullshit really

Words: 2326

A/N: Been a lil minute since I wrote Rog and I kinda missed him. this idea came to me last week and wouldn't leave me alone lmao

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois

It had been a couple of months since you’d seen Roger face to face. The biggest downside of dating a rock star was dealing with his absence. Everyone seemed insistent on dragging him away from you, often to the other side of the world. You took comfort knowing he missed you as much as you missed him, and that he was leaving you to live out his lifelong dream. What could be more important than that? When he was away, he called frequently to check in with you. You’d laugh about whatever drama he’d had to endure during rehearsal (though privately you were sure he exaggerated) and then you’d tell him all about what he was missing back home. But the further into the tour he got, the more the calls changed. Gone were the long conversations that unpacked every minute aspect of your day. They were replaced with long conversations that answered the question how was your day? in the first five minutes and dedicated the rest of the time to talk of possible ways to celebrate his eventual return, growing steadily filthier. The problem was that, having moved in together, you’d become accustomed to a certain amount of physical intimacy that you just weren’t getting without Roger there. You missed being able to startle him by laying ice cold hands against the back of his neck, missed cuddling up with him on the couch. You even missed the way he’d pinch your bum as he hugged you, laughing when you squealed in response and batted his chest with your palm. Of course, you missed the sex too. He’d always claimed to be a good lay and, so far, he hadn’t disappointed you. It wasn’t always easy to unwind after a long or hard day of work without being able to grab Roger by the hand and pull him into the bedroom for a few hours, and sometimes the forced abstinence just added to any tensions or stresses you were already dealing with. Plus it was nice to have someone you enjoyed having sex with, who liked making you feel good, and it kind of just sucked to lose that. So being stuck with nothing but your imagination soon had you desperate for Roger’s return and he seemed to feel the same. By the end of the tour you’d abandoned all pretence and we just having straight up phone sex every other night, Roger locked away in his hotel room, you wherever you’d happened to pick up the phone – bedroom or kitchen or lounge room, it didn’t matter.

There was some mild embarrassment at the thought of what may be said of you if anyone were to overhear. Things mentioned in the heat of the moment often seemed silly after you’d hung up, the fog of needy lust subsiding. But while you were on the phone you couldn’t care less who heard what, as long as Roger was there, listening to you, describing his own ideas in response. It was good that Roger had just as large a disregard for anyone else’s ears as you because you were sure one of the boys would be in the room next to his, probably able to hear everything he said. Perhaps if they’d been able to hear your voice, your moans, you would have been more concerned, but you were alone on your end of the line, free to be as loud as you liked. And when you were lying in bed, one hand shoved down the front of your pants, listening to Roger describe how he wanted to fuck you, loud is exactly what you were. The hand that wasn’t pressed to your clit held the phone held tight to your ear, as if loosening your grip would shake you loose from Roger himself.

“Christ I miss your cunt,” he groaned down the line, the sound of his hand sliding over his dick audible beneath his words, “tell me you miss my cock,”

“God yes Rog,” you whined, a little startled by just how much you meant it. “Miss how you fuck me. My fingers are fucking shit compared to the way it feels when you fill me,”

“Shit, love. The second I see you I’m going to slide into your pussy and just stay there for as long as I can.”

“I’ll squeeze down on you,” you warned, not in the mood to think about being full and unfucked.

“Good. I’ll cum in you and then stay there until you’re squirming and begging and I’m hard enough to pound you. Fuck you so loud the neighbours complain. Might even keep myself stuffed inside you until I can start round three.”

“Jesus Rog,”

“You like the sound of that? Being my own personal cock sleeve?”

“Mmhmm, so much. You could live in me. Just stay inside me forever, fucking me and pumping me full of cum over and over.”

“Fuck. I can hear how wet you are.”

So it usually went, or something similar.

But, unfortunately, your most recent phone call was nowhere near as fun. Roger had meant to be home by six. You’d been excited and spent the afternoon getting things ready. A nice hot bath with your favourite scents, fresh sheets for you to ruin the minute he walked in the door, a bottle of wine for afterwards. It would pair nicely with the steaks and sides you’d prepped – all easy and fast to cook as soon as you’d recovered enough. You even put on some of your nicest underwear. Not your fanciest lingerie because it was likely to be torn in his haste to undress you, but it was a matching set and one you knew he liked. But six o’clock came and went and he didn’t walk in the door. Enough time passed that you’d gotten cold waiting in just your undies, so you’d thrown a robe over the top and settled in front of the TV under a blanket. But it was hard to relax when you didn’t know where Roger was or why he hadn’t come home when he said he would. After a few more hours the phone rang and you raced to it, slightly worried you were about to hear something devastating. You sighed in relief at the sound of Roger’s voice but he didn’t have much time to chat. He rushed out an explanation for his being late – something about a weather delay and missing luggage – and then hung up again. A little upset at having to wait even longer to see him, and that your night had been ruined, you fixed yourself a quick dinner, leaving the steaks for the next day instead. You didn’t change though, just in case, your head flicking towards the front door at every little sound. It was late when you finally decided to call it a night, stumbling up to your room, not even bothering to change into pyjamas before you slipped under the covers.

The next thing you knew was being woken by someone climbing into bed next to you, the chill of his fingers making you shiver as he brushed hair off your face. You cracked an eye open, but the sun hadn’t risen and it was hard to see more than a vague outline, Roger’s quick apology for waking you confirmation of who he was. He felt you move to try and get a better look and softly told you to go back to sleep. Instead you waited for him to finish undressing and then shuffled closer, reaching out for him. He let you wrap your arms around him, repaid you with a soft kiss.

“You’re home,” you mumbled, not fully awake.

“Finally. Sorry I’m late,” his voice was low and rough and comforting to hear, right beside your ear, undistorted by connection issues and distance, “Fucking terrible night. But I’m glad to see you again.”

“Not quite the welcome I’d planned,” you said through a yawn.

He laughed softly and kissed the tip of your nose, “Me neither.”

“I got all dressed up and everything,”

Roger raised the blankets into the air, peaking under, trying to see what you meant, letting out a low whistle and a “now I really wish I’d been here sooner,” though you weren’t convinced he could actually see the set through the grey black of the early hour.

You laughed sleepily and raised a hand to stroke his cheek as he fell back to the pillow.

“I was thinking about you the whole way home,” he broke off to yawn, “Had to have a quick wank halfway across the Atlantic,” he yawned again and let his eyes shut for a moment, blinking them back open to look at you with a hint of his cheeky grin.

“Remember when you said you’d fuck me as soon as you saw me,”

“Not sure I have the energy for that. Don’t think you do either.”

You hummed in agreement, the sandman tugging at the corners of your brain, but there was another idea there too. Something more insistent. You tightened your grip on Roger, adjusted yourself to be more comfortable, pulled his head closer to the crook of your neck, able to feel his warm breath on your bare skin. “Kinda want you inside me anyway, Rog.”

“Really?”

The more you thought about it the more you wanted it. You’d missed his presence in the house, the smell of his shampoo and his cigarettes and his aftershave all mixed together, the way his laugh could fill a room, how it felt to sit in the backyard on a warm day and listen to him plucking at one of his guitars, the way he smiled when he said he loved you. And now that he was back all you wanted was to keep him close, listen to his every breath, feel his hair tickling your neck, the scratch of his stubble before he shaved, his warmth seeping into your skin. Just lying beside him wasn’t enough. You wanted to drown in him, completely and utterly surround yourself in him. But that was too hard to explain so early in the day, when you’d had only a couple hours sleep and he seemed to be running on even less. So you replied with a short, “Mmhmm,” lilting upward, and dropped your lips to the top of his head.

“You sure?” his question was an exhale against your throat, fingertips dancing closer to the waistband of your knickers.

“Positive. Just for a bit, please,”

He stifled another yawn as he pushed your underwear down, letting you kick them off one foot as he got rid of his own. There was a pause as he ran his hand along his length in long lazy strokes, a needy whine caught on the tip of your tongue as you waited. But it died there, replaced by a gasp as he pulled your leg over him and slowly sunk into you. Your fingers tightened where they lay and you felt his groan as vibrations against your throat as he filled you inch by inch.

“You okay?”

“Perfect,” you whispered back, “Welcome home.”

Roger hummed and breathed deep, taking a moment to wiggle into a slightly more comfortable position, hitching your leg up a little higher, tilting your head down so he could find your lips again. You saw his eyes flutter shut as he relaxed into the pillows, content to just stay like that until he could summon the energy to do more. You let your own eyes shut too, relishing the way it felt to be stretched around him, listening to his breaths slowing down and evening out.

It was Roger’s groan that made you stir. An almost desperate sound, though he tried to keep it quiet. Slowly you blinked your eyes open, trying to tell whether Roger was awake yet too, or whether the noise was made in his sleep. You could see him clearer now, the bags under his eyes, the ruffled unkempt look of his hair. Your leg was still slung over him, slipped a little from where he’d placed it, and without thinking you made to move it back. Roger groaned again as a small gasp left you, the full memory of what had happened the previous night returning to you. It was weird, waking up so full, but not unpleasant.

“Y/N,” he sighed, “you up?”

“Mmhmm,”

“Love, do that again and we’re going to have a mess to clean up,” he warned, softly.

“How long you been awake?”

“Not long. But you’ve been clenching around me a bit in your sleep and I’m so close.” The last two words were almost pained and you briefly considered moving, letting Roger go so he could calm down sufficiently. But you were comfortable and happy wrapped around him and the memory of your phone calls nagged at the back of your mind, “You can let go,”

“What?”

“I’m… what’d you call me…your personal cock sleeve? So let go,”

Roger stared at you, eyes wide though still tired looking, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. But, when you didn’t take it back he leaned in to kiss you, rocking his hips against you slowly, letting out a low noise as you felt him empty inside you. You kissed him in return, stroked his cheek as he calmed down. Just for a moment you let your eyes slip shut again, basking in the feeling of it all. When you looked back at Roger he was still staring.

“I love you,”

“Good, I don’t plan on letting you leave this bed much today,”

“Sounds good to me,” he laughed softly, following it with a hiss when you intentionally clenched on his sensitive dick again, “wait, wait love, give me like another minute.”

You apologised and settled for another kiss instead, leaving a few extra along his jaw until he was able to make good on his earlier promises.

#my writing #my fics #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #tmi but #lowkey the idea came to me because i fell asleep c***warming a d***o lmao #😳😳😳😳😳

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toutallyahoe · 5 years ago

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Hey, it me, a dumb sleeby bitch. I know you're not taking requests. So I'm gonna leave this at your doorstep and if you ever want to do it, go for it. No pressure. But pls if you ever have time and motivation, could you give me some cute sleepy headcanons for any of our very good cowboys? Thanks in advance and I love you and everything you do. You're amazing.

i would literally write a fucking book for you-- i have told you this so many already asdfghjkl

but ya want some of the good boahs and some cute sleepy headcanons? BOI I AM IN!

also, before i continue-- CALL YERSELF DUMB BITCH AGAIN AND I WILL gently KICK YER ASS and hug you to death because ya ain't dumb or else i am more dumber than a fucking rock you sweet, talented smort, beautiful fecker!

AND ANOTHER THING !!! *sobs* HOW CAN YE DO THIS TO ME?!? SHOOTING ME WITH A SURPRISE COMPLIMENT-- ACK ME HEART! I FEEL M U S H ASDFGHJKKLXNBSOHD

okay, i calmed down now... onto the headcanons! btw, multiple characters because ya didn't specify who you want in this headcanon and because i knew yer beautiful ass would like more than one boah

⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃⁃

Arthur Morgan

• first off, best boah right here

• second off, this bitch won't admit he is sleepy even if his life depends on it

• is it pride???

• probably...

• definitely

• i dont know, i see Arthur as one to not really say anything he feels because he doesn't want to be a bother or thinks he'll be a dead weight

• because life as an outlaw? it ain't really the best life

• so, when there are jobs that takes a few days and he volunteers to take watch, Arthur won't admit he is tired and would continue on be on guard no matter how many times he is asked to get his ass some rest

• it'll be a pain in the ass if you aren't patient enough or very worried about him

• because knowing Arthur, he'll just suck it up

• so, if he is sleepy, his [Name] is on his ass immediately

• "you need rest"

• "don't need nothin"

• he IS stubborn as fuck

• and also incredibly more sassier when he is sleepy

• it honestly sometimes annoy [Name]

• "Arthur, you look like you're goin to pass out-- jesus christ! just rest already!"

• Arthur is too stubborn for his own good

• and it sometimes lead to some arguments really

• but [Name] will be the first to give up when he just sees Arthur and sighs

• [Name] will sit by his side and just talk about stuff

• trying to make Arthur relax and at ease

• he'll be sassy at first but will ease up and comment genuinely

• Arthur will then unconsciously place his head on his [Name]'s shoulder as the [Hair color] haired man's voice drowns his thoughts with stories of the past (either his or [Name]'s past)

• before you know it, Arthur "sleep is for the dead" Morgan is fucking asleep

• [Name] notices how quiet Arthur and will turn his head to see the outlaw asleep

• [Name] just smiles at Arthur and place his head on Arthur's and let a content sigh as he close his eyes

• they'll be fine sleeping for a bit

John Marston

• best greasy dumbass raccoon looking ass bitch

• but-- ahem

• like Arthur, John will be stubborn at first

• it's pride and John doesn't want to get babied really

• he already gets that enough from the rest of the gang since he is a real life predatory bait and gets mauled by a lot of animals

• honestly, this man has the shittiest luck

• but also lucky in some way...?

• but yeah... ANYWAYS

• when John gets tired, he is functioning with no braincells (like he doesn't already)

• [Name] is honestly tired with it

• just fucking glaring the shit outta that greasy raccoon boi

• then maybe...just maybe, you can get him to rest his greasy ass

• John will be a bit of a whiny bitch to be honest

• like, he'll whine he ain't sleepy

• but as if it was on cue, he'll yawn

• John looking a bit embarrassed and [Name] looking at him with that "really?" look

• [Name] ain't dealing with yer bullshit raccoon boi

• i can definitely see [Name] restraining John from running away and carry the guy to his tent and slam his in the cot and glare and order John to stay and sleep like a damn dog

• John would be honestly pissed because DAMN IT [NAME]! YA HAVE TO DO THAT IN FRONT OF EVERYONE?!? ARTHUR AND SEAN AIN'T GOING TO LIVE THIS DOWN (because those two are bastards... lovable bastards though asdfgghjkl)

• but also turned on but pfft-- he won't admit that

• but yeah, [Name] just sitting on the side of his bed and will not leave until he makes sure John rest

• "you ain't leavin, are you?"

• "i aint leavin till i see yer ass sleep, Marston"

• yikes, getting called his by his last name? usually his [Name] does that when he is annoyed or angry at time

• that when John know he ain't getting out of this

• "aight... fine! i'll sleep! happy?"

• "very"

• to be honest, John feels happy when [Name] does that

• it's because this is how his [Name]'s care for him and it is sweet

• a bit annoying but sweet

• John sleeps and [Name] softly sighs and place a soft kiss on John's forehead and leaves the tent to do his work

Leonard "Lenny" Summers

• pure child

• pure child who can never do anything wrong

• just, this fucking boah is pure child who can never do anything wrong and y'all can fight me is ya say he aint

• ANYWAYS

• Lenny is adorable when he is sleepy

• just utterly adorable as fuck and his [Name] just smiles at how cute he is

• like, Lenny is reading a book under a tree and the day was just a lovely day despite it being so fucking boring

• Lenny planned to read but as the calm breeze pass by him, it didn't take long for Lenny to be yawning and his eyelids dropping but the young man is trying so hard to fight the sleep off and stay awake

• honestly, [Name] saw Lenny sleepy but being too stubborn to admit defeat with sleep will try to stay awake

• [Name] is just amused by it and found it adorable

• always adorable with Lenny

• but anyways, Lenny would be one of the submissive out of everyone if you ask him to go to sleep when he is tired

• will literally not fight back on it because his mind shuts down from the sleepiness

• honestly? will act like a baby

• because he is a baby and [Name] loves him so much and spoils him

• "come on Lenny, let's get ya to yer cot"

• "hmmm, [Name]? can you carry me there... please?"

• just adorable akdbjqjdjsjfjjsjd

• me baby

• aNYWAYS

• Lenny is just a good boah

• like, he gives up rather quickly because he knew his [Name] is looking out for him and besides, if he says yes? he gets cuddles

• so yeah, that's good for him

• Lenny gets warm cuddles and sleeps well in the arms of his [Name] who holds him very close and just being soft boahs

Sean MacGuire

• loud and dumb irish bastard who stole me heart

• i adore him asdfghjkl

• but ON TO THE HEADCANONS

• Sean is a whiny loud ass bitch when he is sleepy

• he acts like he seems drunk

• and it is both hilarious and tiresome for [Name] because he is the one dealing with this shit

• i can see Sean just clinging to his [Name] and yelling on the top of his lungs on how tired he was

• and his [Name] rubbing his temple and tell Sean to get to bed then

• "[Name]! there ye are ye beautiful fecker! i have been looking all over fer ye"

• "and why is that?"

• "i'm sleepyyy"

• "then rest Sean"

• "but i dont want to!"

• honestly acts like a kid

• a loud ass bratty kid...

• it's not even cute

• kinda

• okay, [Name] finds it adorable but he ain't telling no one shit because he already suffers from a sleepy Sean who acts like a drunk toddler

• he doesn't want to deal with everyone teasing him on being soft with his drunk toddler lover

• but yeah

• like John, i can definitely see [Name] try to restrain this dumb bastard

• probably had to hoagtie Sean if i had to be honest

• which may or may not have the sleepy minded Sean blurt out something that made [Name] exasperatedly sigh and a bit flustered

• because-- goD DAMN IT SEAN! stop being a thirsting bastard for a bit and get some sleep?!?

• "Sean, keep this up and I'm goin to hoagtie you..."

• "that's a bit kinky [Name]-- but yer boy is always happy to please ye--"

• "oh my lords-- Sean!"

Charles Smith

• stronk hunt boah

• he is just so beautiful-- im gonna cry asdfgghjkl

• bUT ANYWAYS

• Charles won't admit it outloud when he is sleepy

• he is usually reserved and quiet anyways so his [Name] has to pick up some signals when Charles is sleepy

• but Charles won't be so stubborn about it though

• like, he is kinda like Lenny, a bit submissive and giving in on his [Name]'s words if the man tells him to sleep

• well, if [Name] finds out he is sleepy that is

• when this boah is sleepy, he usually sits in a somewhere in a shade and looks at the sky

• preferably under a tree and away from camp for a bit because honestly, the camp is just too noisy at times

• so yeah

• [Name] will notice him not doing anything and just cloud watching and will sit by him

• Charles would send him a small smile and a nod

• the two would just be quiet and after sometime, Charles would lay his head on [Name]'s lap as the [Hair color] haired man braids his hair and then undoing it again, repeatedly doing the action for a bit

• it honestly soothes Charles a lot

• just his [Name] playing with his hair which he is the only who can

• it was nice and with him already be sleepy, Charles would be lull to sleep

• and with that, Cahrles is softly snoring in his [Name]'s lap as the [Hair color] haired man undoes the braid again and then look at Charles' sleeping face fondly then look at the view in front of him with a gentle smile

• it doesn't take long for [Name] to sleep too with that

Javier Escuella

• a man after me own heart

• honestly, this man is just gorgeous asdfghjkl

• BUT BACK TO HEADCANONS

• Javier would probably be the only one who ACTUALLY goes to his tent and sleep in his cot

• maybe drag [Name] there because the mexican just want a nice cuddle you know?

• honestly, sleepy Javier is adorable to his [Name]

• Javier's mind just shuts down and he forgets how to speak in english and mumbles in spanish until he falls asleep

• i can also see Javier being one to plop himself down on his [Name]'s lap when the guy is sitting somewhere (below a tree or on a seat) because when is sleepy-- he loses his braincells and all functioning

• Javier just searches for his [Name] and throws himself because one, his boah can carry him alright anyways and two, he just loves too

• his [Name] is honestly amused because Javier won't be like this when he is functioning well

• well, not all the time

• but yeah

• [Name] thinks it's cute and will hug his lover

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harrywritingsbyme · 4 years ago

Note

Anyone else have a love- hate relationship with your period? TM WARNING lol

Like i love my period for the exuses i get to use but hate it too

Like i NEVER have to take medicine even when on- today i had to take ibuprofen just because my period gives me a fuckin headache all the tome when on it but today- I literally haven’t slept in well over 24 hours and i have to stay awake for class but cannot stand the bullshit my teachers say and deal with a headache at the same time-

I also hate my birth control pills (im still a vergy its to control my period) but the thing is whith them is that I literally dont care about them that much which means i have gotten so behind on them that i LITERALLY haven’t had a good/heavy period in over 2 months (ik ik not healthy) besides for spotting so this week im have a really really heavy one since ive gotten back on track. Which means i have to use tampons cuz they are the only thing that i dont have to change every five minutes and i DISPISE fucking tampons cuz why the fuck should i shove somthin up my 🐱and feel like i have to pee or start having cramps just because something is up there-

ON THE TOPIC OF PADS

I hate them but love them- so i never trim- dont see the point- which means that my bush is really long sometimes- and i use the super long ones (not the ultra long) cuz my period blood can spread. I hate having to literally PULL my bush out of the sticky part of the pad cuz it won’t stick to my underwear- my vergina is already fuckin sintive as it is because of being on my period- that just makes it ten times worse. I like using pads cuz i don’t usually have a very heavy period which means i never have to use tampons but other than that i hate it.

I really really really want to buy a nice pj set and sheets but I refuse because of my fucking period too.

ONTO OTHER TOPICS

Why cant pads or tampons be free!? Like hunny- Some of us are broke as shit and can’t afford it half the time and all you doing is making the fucking prices go up. Ridiculous

Dont even get me started on the topic of MEN

Fucking idoits thinking tehir life is hard and that we disurve yhe way they treat us- like (big big warning here) lets say soemone gets r$&@d they say it’s because of the way she dressed. Bitch what the fuck!? If us woman go out in a short skirt and tank top we physically have to keep an eye out for predators just because we started to feel confident and comfortable in our clothes to go out. Why should woman have to check their back seats before getting in the car!? Why should we have to hold out keys like a weapon?! Why should we have to make sure our windows are locked 3 times before going to bed. But men cant? Then men have a adulasity to say things like how we arnt strong enough like bitch what the fuck does your dick do? Does it literally PUSH a HUMAN out of it?!? Doe sit bleed every damn month? No so fuck off- our bodys lets expain that- we have periods because our verginas got prepared to be pregnant but we never did so our body decided have some fuckin revenge and make us bleed every month-

Men treat women like objects. There are only a few who understands litteraly every i just said.

As you can tell- ive had a bad day and its only 9 am.

Im on my period and just want cuddles from harry a guy who actually understands shit like this 🥺🥺

Ive never taken medicine during my period and ive having tok because i cant stand shit today. I havent slept in 24 hours and had a mental breakdown at 6am today.

I wanna sleep but i cant cuz i want to advoide getting yelled at at all costs. If i skip school taht means i get yelled at. Even if it was to fuckin sleep.

The next time i get yelled at for not turning in grades imma just sit there and cry. Like its not my failt km mentally unstable rn because of school its not my fault I literally have no motivation to do shit tgat i WANT to do.

I got yelled at for me starting to clean my room but not finishing it for god over a week because i lost all motivation to do literally anything even eating.

Sorry i needed to rant- But about the period and men shit- prodve me wrong if you can

-🧩

this was a ranttttt...but im rlly glad that you got all of this off your chest babes🥰😂🥺❤️periods and men definitely suck!!! but I hope that you're able to get back on track with your birth control, I hope your periods become less of a strain and not as painful, i hope that feminine products will be free in the future bc none of us CHOSE to have a period, i hope that all the bad men in the world get yeeted off a cliff, i hope that you're able to find some peace in your life and in regards to your school work, i hope that you're able to regain some motivation to get some things done, and i hope you find a great guy that isn't a piece of shit🥰❤️ilysm bbyyy!!

#asks #anonymous

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floralseokjin · 5 years ago

Text

— crystallised 06 (m)

crystallised /ˈkrɪst(ə)lʌɪz/ (verb) make or become definite and clear

Six weeks, that’s all it takes to forget about the threesome you shared with your boyfriend, Yoongi, and your past... fuck buddy, Seokjin. After all, it’s no big deal. Yoongi and you are doing better than ever, there’s no reason to regret such a night shared. That is until you hear some gossip in the library one day, and then slowly, little by little, everything starts to fall apart... Can you begin to make sense out of all this confusion, or is it too late?

pairing; kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings; fluff, fluff and more fluff, smut in the form of dry humping, and did I already say fluff???? here, have some more words; 10,481

sequel to; memoirs of a mistake and lostmyhead

chapters; 01 ⤑ 02 ⤑ 03 ⤑ 04 ⤑ 05 ⤑ 06 ⤑ 07⤑ 08 ✓

Seokjin ended up staying the night. It was inevitable really. You weren’t letting him go after you’d only just got him back. Not like he wasn’t dropping enough hints though. Could stay like this forever, he’d murmured hot in your ear, your body smushed to his as you lied down on the sofa, watching Netflix again. Some things, you realised, wouldn’t change and actually, it turned out Seokjin and you had already practically been acting as a couple anyway. It was just now he had his arms around your middle, hands woven together and his mouth on your neck. Lips too. Yeah, the kissing fest was still happening. You wouldn’t be able to tell anyone a damn thing about what had happened in the last three episodes of The Vampire Diaries if they asked.

Spend the night didn’t really have a question mark after it. It was Sunday anyway, neither of you had work and just the thought of doing nothing all day with Seokjin seemed like pure bliss. Your plan had been to call Lina tonight and gush about everything, but you guessed that could wait until tomorrow night. You’d just have to evade her messages until then, because keeping information like this from your best friend was killing you, but also, maybe you weren’t ready for the “Oh, my God, it was all down to ME,” I told you so’s…

You got ready for bed in the bathroom one by one, almost giddy when Seokjin came out in just his t-shirt and boxers. Knees practically vibrating against one another as he got into bed next to you. His side. You were finally sharing your bed with him again, and then you were a tangle of limbs, his body glued into yours. His legs warm against yours, chest warm, body heat encasing you with the help of his arms. This was it. Pure bliss. How it was always supposed to be.

In the safety of your bed, surrounded by darkness it was easy for even more confessions to slip from Seokjin’s lips. There were funny ones. Thoughts that slipped into his head. Like how he’d been unreasonably jealous of every guy who’d checked you out at the gym. How your ass had looked quote, “fricking delectable,” unquote, with a side helping of bum squeeze to go with. “Been wanting to do that forever,” he sighed in complete and utter content. You giggled, revelling in it really. How could you not. It wasn’t like you hadn’t ogled him while he was squatting or doing press ups… He was very happy when you let that slip… It was cute to fill in the missing gaps, but there were also unhappy confessions too. Ones that made your heart pang with sadness.

Every time he’d pined for you. Not far from him, but still deeply out of reach. Like how he’d hated seeing you cry after your argument with Yoongi the night of that party. He was awkward and he didn’t know how to comfort you, but that was because he wanted nothing more than to tell you the truth. The truth about his feelings, and how he thought you should be with him not Yoongi. When he’d walked you home and you’d made to kiss him, (so he had realised) it took him everything not to give in. He knew you were upset, vulnerable and he didn’t want to take advantage of the moment. It wouldn’t be right, but the hug was the best sensation he’d felt in all his life. Then you’d turned up at his door after the breakup. Like some sign from the heavens above he was making a mistake with Jemma, and even if he could only have you as a friend, even if it hurt like crazy to hear you talk about Yoongi, it was okay. Because he had you in some kind of form. The best form. Just you.

With your glassy eyes, you both began to reminisce into the early hours of the morning. Muffling your laughter at some points because it got too loud and your neighbours would hate you.

“Was it just me, or when we went to watch Endgame did you get distracted remembering back to that time you gave me a hand job? It was the exact same screen room too.” He spoke into the darkness. Just when eyelids were getting heavy, legs still tangled together, your head on his chest.

“Oh, my god.”

“No. Not even in a perverted way. I thought of that as our unofficial first date for the longest time.” He was trying to be funny, but that was actually really cute. You’d held hands for the first time that night. You’d done so as a joke, teasing him. Actually, he’d been adamant it wasn’t a date, not a fan of your jesting. You understood why now. He was afraid you didn’t feel the same.

“I remember we held hands as we walked back to your car.”

“Mm. I liked that.” On cue you felt one of his hands find yours to slip them together, kissing the top of your head at the same time. You smiled to yourself. “Let me take you on an official first date.”

“Where do you have in mind?” The smile was still on your face, could hear it in your voice.

“Zoo.” He replied matter-of-factly.

“Zoo?”

“You pretty much stood me up last time.” Silence. The memory came back to you instantly. “–annd you don’t remember…” His tone was light, playing with you, but nope, you wouldn’t have it.

“No, wait!” You exclaimed, turning around in his arms to find his face. Your eyes had long adjusted to the dark, you could make out the greatly amused grin on his face easily. “I do remember! I just didn’t think you were serious.”

You hadn’t actually figured out what he was trying to do when he’d asked you out back then. You’d been too distracted anyway… Too excited for your date with Yoongi…

“So serious. So jealous. So sad.” That didn’t help either. He was messing around but it still made you feel all not good inside.

“Seokjiinn.” You whined.

He laughed, arms wrapping around your middle to squeeze you to him. “No, but I do really want to take you to the zoo on our first date.” He pecked your mouth, ridding the pout that had formed. “Let’s go Tuesday. We can skip class.”

“Oh,” you cocked an eyebrow. “You’re making me skip classes already. You’re a bad influence Kim Seokjin.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” He grinned, voice now a little croaky from lack of sleep. Sexy though.

You both did manage to get a few hours sleep in the end. Voices were sleepy, conversation waning off and then eyes were closed. You woke up first. Your body clock didn’t seem to realise when it hadn’t had eight hours sleep. So here you were wide awake on five. Seokjin was still dead to the world though. Hooked around you like some sort of monkey. You wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever, but you forgot the cost it came with. Excessive heat. Maybe you hadn’t woken up naturally… Anyway, somehow you wriggled free, Seokjin not even stirring as he rolled onto his back. You took a moment to study him. Cute in sleep, gigantic lips pouting naturally, forehead slightly creased, like he was dreaming of something serious. The events of the night before were truly sinking in. This was actually happening. You and him.

You didn’t want to wake him just yet. No. You had a better idea. You were sure you had the right ingredients to make pancakes. First, a quick detour to the bathroom to empty your bladder and brush your teeth – hair too. You knew you looked this unkempt in the morning, but Seokjin wasn’t used to it anymore. Silly of course, like he gave a shit. You tried to keep as quiet as possible when you started finding and weighing ingredients, aware that there were basically only four walls in this open apartment, if you didn’t count the bathroom. Which was just about hiding Seokjin out of view, the jutting wall part of your kitchen storage.

Distracted from mixing as you messaged with Lina back and forth, (she really did love bitching about this one coworker…), you nearly dropped your cell into the bowl when you read what she came out with next.

Lina (9:58am) So are we just gonna ignore the fact u probably fucked Seokjin last night? MAYBE you’re doing it right now Sorry my bad for interrupting

So much for evading her messages. Impossible, and now look.

You (9:58am) Wtf im making pancakes like i said …………. but yeh jin might be in my bed we didn’t bang tho we’re taking things slow 💖💘💗💕💞💓💝

Lina (9:59am) YOU BITCH WJY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME

You (9:59am) i was going to tell you last night :(but got distracted come over later???? i’ll text u

Lina (10:00am) So you actually made a move at the party?? I KNEW IT

Strange. You’d taken it as a given that she had. Especially with the very direct accusation… Or maybe she just knew Seokjin and you couldn’t keep up this ~friends~ bullshit for any longer. Someone would cave, especially after Brian’s party. A ticking time bomb but no one blew up after detonation. Thank God.

You (10:00am) 🤔🤭🤫😶

Lina (10:00am) YOU BETTER SEND HIM HIME TINIGHT I NEED to know the details Have fun being a sexy housewife making pancakes 😘

You (10:01am) hehe 🥰 << me rn

You were so preoccupied, you hadn’t heard Seokjin waking up, jumping a little when his arms wrapped around your middle, face nuzzling your neck as he hugged you from behind.

“Where did you go?” His voice was thick with sleep and whiney.

Putting your phone down, you tried to fight your smile, but nope, this was really happening, and it was better than you could have ever imagined. “I’m making breakfast.”

“I wanted to cuddle,” he whined again. Sounded cute. “Literally been dreaming about it forever. You’re evil.”

“Am not.” You laughed, twisting in his grip. “We cuddled all night.”

Facing him now, you wrapped your arms around his neck, an amused grin on your face. You didn’t think it was possible to cuddle all night, but hey, you’d been proved wrong. You should’ve known. Seokjin was as determined as ever. Only now softer. You liked soft. You liked him.

He squeezed your waist, a pout already formed. “I want more.”

“Patience, bitch,” you hummed softly, bemusing him for a second before he chuckled. You leaned up to kiss him. “Haven’t brushed my teeth,” he murmured.

You rolled your eyes. “Like I care.” There were some things you’d waited long enough for, even without realising, and you’d be damned if you didn’t take every opportunity you had to kiss him. One of you had brushed your teeth, that’s all that mattered.

It wasn’t a showy kiss, mostly slow and lazy. Definitely indulgent though. You almost clung to his bottom lip each time you grazed against it, feeling warmth whenever his breath shook. You felt warmth in the way his hands gripped you too. Safe but free in his hold. Giddy when one wrapped around the small of your back and his fingers grazed the top of your ass. It was exhilarating to feel him touch you so casually. A little tiny niggle of frustration too, because why hadn’t he been doing this from the beginning? You both were fools, but not anymore.

“What you making?” He murmured when you both parted, curious.

A hand slid around your hip as you turned your back to him again, picking up the wooden spoon in the bowl to begin to mix again. You gave him a tiny shrug. Not wanting to make a big deal. “Pancakes.”

He sighed like a king. “Spoiling me already.” Your tut in response choked out when he tapped your ass playfully, wondering off to nose through your cupboards. “Don’t burn them.”

He found what he was looking for. A box of cereal on the top shelf. “Seokjin,” you chided gently as he grabbed a bowl from the draining rack. “Cereal? Really?” No way could he have room for two breakfasts.

He grinned goofily. “Appetiser. The starter.”

You stared him down, practically calling his bluff, but nope, there he went, shaking the cereal into the bowl. Milk following. That’s when you laughed. You couldn’t help it. “You’re nuts.”

“Yeah, for you.”

You scoffed quietly at his comeback, a small smile on your face, unable to hide your happiness, and went back to mixing your pancakes. Yeah, it would take a little time getting used to that cheesiness. You needed to step up your game.

If you were joined at the hip before, it wasn’t nothing on you now. Not that dating changed much overall. If people had already thought you were together, that was only affirmed as you held hands around campus and kissed goodbye at the door of your next classes. Lina was super happy you’d finally admitted your feelings to one another. And not in a gloating way either. Like a piece of fan fiction, she said: The girl who tamed a fuckboy. Yikes, how basic. Sounded like something from Wattpad. You much preferred the trope “Two idiots finally realise their feelings for one another.” Fit you both perfectly.

Surprisingly, there were no I told you so’s from her, just a rare guilty look as she confessed she felt “kinda to blame.” Her distaste for Seokjin in the beginning may have hindered your view. You did after all keep your hook ups a secret for so long. But no, you reassured her, that was all on you. Despite the great sex, originally the idea of people knowing you’d given into Kim Seokjin was, how should you say, unappealing, but you’d soon (ish) seen how judgemental that was. If anyone was to blame for the delay, it was you. Not that you dwelled on that anymore.

It was the little things that made you vibrate at a high frequency. Sheer happiness just doing doing the most mundane things. Being able to land a kiss on Seokjin anytime you wanted. Binging so many shows it was probably unhealthy now, yet it didn’t matter with his arms wrapped around your waist. Lying in his bed watching him grow frustrated as he gamed at his desk. Taking him shopping with you and hearing him whine in complete and utter boredom… It all brought you joy. There was no awkwardness, no trying too hard. It just all came naturally. You worked perfectly like this.

The Pet names started. The first time was when you’d been in near tears on the zoo date. Hating the way the animals were all so far from home and trapped. Seokjin had felt beyond guilty, a distraught, panicked look on his face as he apologised for even thinking of taking you here as a first date. He even said sorry for being shit at comforting you, but as soon as the Baby, please don’t cry had rolled so casually from his tongue, so endearingly in fact, and gentle and soft, he’d done his job perfectly. It was your turn to comfort him. No matter what, your first date wasn’t a complete blow out. You got to feed a giraffe and watch the guy you were crazy about lose his shit over a cute little deer. All while skipping class… Couldn’t get much better than that.

And for someone who’d never been on a proper date before, Seokjin sure made up for it with you. You tried the fancy dinner route. Found out it wasn’t for you when you accidentally rubbed the eyeliner from your right eye. Seokjin thought about waiting until you realised, but inevitably couldn’t do it to you. Although you were sure it was because he couldn’t hold his laughter in. You both enjoyed simpler, less showy outings, and of course you planned stuff too. When you took him to the gig of one of your favourite groups you thought his head was going to explode. He complained his ears hurt all the way back home. You took the time to rinse him on his own music taste.

“It’s okay, next time Taylor Swift goes on tour I’ll get you tickets,” you teased. To which he scoffed.

“You seem to forget I work in a gym. I listen to whatever comes on the radio.”

Of course you had a comeback. Quick and witty, you were an unyielding duo. “You seem to forget earphones exist.”

You weren’t one for posting your life on social media. In fact, you didn’t really post on there much at all. Mainly because you sucked at aesthetically pleasing photos on Instagram and regretted every time you overshared on Twitter. And yes, by oversharing you meant an I’m tired after a full day of classes and a shift at work… Seokjin was little of the same, but the first time he uploaded a selfie of you two (a highly unflattering one at that, but hey ho) you may have melted… Made it all feel so real.

Caption: Me and my baby 🤧💞 80 likes

You: Yes! You’ve finally given in to that emoji life 🤗😍😭 Seokjin_Kim: Yes! You’ve finally learnt proper grammar (Capitalising correctly) 😘 itsholly: so cute!!! JungHobi: @Joon94 @San_deul That’s it guys… we’ve lost him to luuuv 🥺 hi_itsbri: Legit?! Congrats man! Seokjin_Kim: @hi_itsbri Legit! Much appreciated! Seokjin_Kim: @JungHobi So glad I’m free ^_^ Joon94: RUDE Joon94: @Seokjin_Kim San_deul: @Seokjin_Kim Nice try. You live with me

After that, it didn’t take you long to start double dating. Seokjin wasn’t brave enough to accompany any of your friends yet, despite Lina being adamant her and Jimin wanted to hang out, but you went plenty with Sandeul and his girlfriend. You favourite was the time you went to the VR arcade with them. You’d never laughed so much in you life—nor felt so scared! You also seemed to hang out with Hoseok, Namjoon and their girlfriends a lot, who preferred to stay in most of the time, eating take out or drinking some. It was on one of those occasions that Seokjin adorably got moody because you laughed at Hoseok too much…

“What’s up with you?” You asked, coming out from the bathroom to see Seokjin still sitting on your sofa with the same frown he’d had since you’d left Hoseok’s place.

“Nothing.”

You sighed and bounced into the seat next to him. “Are you in a sulk?” As if it wasn’t obvious.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Jiiin!” His name left your mouth in a whine as you pounced on him, climbing onto his lap. Despite his one word answers, he reached for you hips naturally. “You’ve been acting strange since the ride back to mine.” You paused to side eye him, sounding snippy yourself now. “Maybe you should’ve just gone home…”

“No,” he answered immediately, clinging to you tighter. “No. It’s nothing.” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. He hesitated. “Do you think Hoseok’s funnier than me?”

You stared at him for a moment, a bemused look on your face, because no, that couldn’t he it. Could it? How adorable. “What kind of question is that?”

“Is that a yes,” he pouted, dropping his hands from you. His jaw tightening.

“Not at all. It’s a reply of confusion.”

He sighed. “You’re delaying”

You had to laugh then. He was being ridiculous. Was he really self-conscious about it? Hoseok was a funny guy, he knew how to entertain, but it wasn’t something you took notice of much. You leaned in, making sure Seokjin was looking at you and spoke slowly. “No. I don’t think he’s funnier than you.”

It didn’t work. In fact, he averted your gaze to look down at the arm of the sofa. Pout in his voice. “You were laughing all night at him. Ignored me when I said something. I’m used to the guys brushing off my jokes and never laughing, but you…”

Wrong. You had not been ignoring him all night, but he sounded so dejected you really did think he believed it. You cupped his cheek. “I always laugh at your jokes.”

“Yeah, probably because you think you have to.” Voice a mumble, you rolled your eyes.

“Have I, or have I not always thought you were funny?” You’d been laughing because of Seokjin for as long as you’d known him. Even when you didn’t want to admit it. “You’re much funnier than Hoseok. Namjoon? No question. Never met someone so unfunny.”

Seokjin actually managed a little smile at that. Your lame attempt at being funny yourself.

“Yay. That’s what I want to see. A smile.” To emphasise, you pulled the corners of his mouth up with your thumbs.

“Get off,” he grumbled, but there was now a gigantic grin on his face. “I just need to make sure, y’know? My humour is all I have.”

You scoffed. “Shut up.”

“Okay, humour and face.”

You leaned in once more, tone sincere. “You have way more important qualities.”

“Great.” He sighed. Fairly dramatically. “Now you’re calling me unfunny and ugly?”

But mouth already open in argument, he was kissing you with an amused chuckle, not knowing you’d never let him forget the day he worried Hoseok was funnier than him…

After a few weeks the novelty of going outside wore off, and soon you were back to staying in. Sharing time between homes, although yours was the preferred, living alone and all. It got pretty domesticated some nights, cooking together, back hugging him as he cut onions because you complained it made you cry. When you said you binged TV too much, you weren’t playing. Somehow you’d completed The Vampire Diaries and were onto The Walking Dead now. Zombies made you a bit uneasy, but actually you found yourself getting quite into it. So into it you searched spoilers ahead of time, too guilty to tell Seokjin your secret. It turned out he was doing exactly the same thing behind your back… You’d both found out your favourite character was soon to die, and reading it had already emotionally broken you, so for now, binging was paused.

Not that you had much time these days. College was kicking up a notch. You had a final piece that needed to be finished by the beginning of February that was a large percentage of your grade this year and Seokjin seemed swamped with assignments and tests. Along with a part-time job, it was a struggle to find some time to spend together. And that’s how Seokjin convinced you to join the gym again. It was a hard no at first, but he put up a good argument… You could hang out together while he worked and you found not everything was completely body destroying there… You could keep up a worthy enough pace on the treadmill. Look somewhat passable on the elliptical… They were both also very great vantage points for some light viewing (perving) of your man… Squats really were invented for him. Just no one tell him that because he’d get a big head…

Caption: The only plus side of going to the gym 🏋🏻‍♂️🍑🤤🥵 43 likes

Linaa: GROSS Linaa: can you not publicise your weird kinks 🤮 You: @Linaa were you or were you not going on about Jimin’s booty two nights ago ???? You: @PJM tell your girlfriend to shut up PJM: Guys 😩😩 me and Jin really don’t deserve this Seokjin_Kim: WHEN DID YOU TAKE THIS?!

He may have seemed outraged but that wasn’t what he sounded like over text two minutes later…

Jin💞 (5:47pm) So I hear you have a thing for my butt ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“You know I can’t control myself,” you told him later on that night when he’d come over, pinching said butt as you hugged.

“Stoppp,” he whined, bottom lip jutting out but he didn’t sound very believable.

“What? I can take full advantage of butt squeezes now.” It wasn’t like he hadn’t been doing the same. You try getting to sleep with two hands cupped firmly around your ass. It got annoying after a while…

He shook his head slowly. Like he was disappointed. His arms still slung around your waist though and a small smirk itching its way across his mouth. “Twisted. Should’ve known… I still get nightmares.”

You met his eyes, a glint in them. You knew exactly what he was referring to. To avoid all the crude details, let’s just say an experiment might have occurred…to see how much pleasure one could derive from the prostrate gland… “Shut up. You’re the one who brought it up, so like, obviously you enjoyed it.” You moved in slowly as you spoke, looping your arms around his neck, a grin on your face.

He sighed your name quietly. “I’d enjoy anything if it was with you.” Dead romantic over some anal fingering. No sarcasm. It really was. You lips were centimetres apart. So close you could almost taste him, but then he pulled away abruptly. “But that’s besides the point. You obviously told Lina–mfphh!”

You couldn’t wait any longer. Kissing him was your favourite pastime, and well, there had been a lot of kissing this past month. Lots of cute kissing. Chaste or stolen. Soft and gentle. Slow. Fast. Lots of fast kissing. Messy and wet. Eager, sometimes impatient. Lots of heavy breathing, warm bodies and ruined underwear on your part… Although Seokjin had his fair share of problems in that area too. An overactive erection. Taking it slow didn’t mean you couldn’t kiss until you were overheating, grind until you were shaking… Grope until you were moaning.

You were straddling him on the couch doing just that when you heard a voice calling outside your door. Sounded like your mom but god, that would be the worst thing ever.

“Yoo-hoo! Are you in?”

Nooo. It really was your mom. Who needed a cold shower at a moment like this? You were pulling away from Seokjin immediately, hazy mind clearing like magic. No one wanted to be caught getting frisky by a parent. It had happened once a couple of years ago and you in no way wanted to relive that.

“My mom,” you groaned at Seokjin, answering the puzzlement on his face.

It quickly turned to panic. “Oh shit. What?” You nodded, quickly getting off him to make your way to the door. “Where are you going?” He panicked harder.

“To open the door.” You laughed. “Can’t leave her out there.”

He jumped up. “Hold on. Hold on. My dick”s half hard.” Luckily he did remember to keep his voice down, shoving a hand down his pants. “Shit. Try fully hard.”

“Hide it.” You hissed, not bothering to check what he was doing as you turned your back to him and ran for the door. He was a big boy (HA), he’d work it out…or not…

You took a deep breath, smoothing down your hair as you composed yourself and pulled it open. “Hello mother. You do realise most normal people ring the doorbell.”

“I did.” She sassed you right back. “You took too long.” Really? You must have missed that…too distracted. Oops. She walked inside, stopping when she saw Seokjin stood awkwardly by the coffee table. “Oh.”

You took a glance at him, eyes wide, like a rabbit caught in headlights. You mean, it could’ve been the erection, but also, this was the first time he was coming face to face with your mother. You’d been too flustered to realise that before you’d flown open the front door. Hadn’t had time to reassure and ease him. Poor guy.

“Mom, this is Seokjin.” You introduced, walking towards him for some moral support.

“I know who he is.” She smiled at you, before turning to him. “It’s so nice to meet you finally.” Ugh. That was right. You’d spent a lot of time talking about him these past few weeks. Mostly done subconsciously when you were still in the “friends” phase. Yeah. You didn’t think she bought it either… Especially when you told her you used to “be involved” in the past but things didn’t work out. What? You couldn’t call it hooking up could you… It was a nicer way of putting it. Sort of. She’d been eager to meet him for a while now, ever since you’d started dating. Probably why she’d shown up without notice…

“Hi.” Seokjin smiled. You moved closer to him. Reassuring him without touching him directly.

“Even more handsome than his photos.”

You groaned loudly. “Mom, you’re embarrassing him.” And you. For multiple reasons. Yes. She had made you show her pictures.

She shook her head. “Nonsense. What are you two up to then?”

She was looking at Seokjin when she asked so he really had no choice but to reply. “Uh… Uh, we were just… just hanging out.” The smile on his face didn’t look too natural. You nudged him. Hopefully enough to settle him.

“Seokjin had a late class so he’s only just come over. We were gonna watch some TV.” You helped instead.

“Oh. Sorry for interrupting.” Like hell she was. “You’re a business major, right?” Seokjin nodded, curious as to how she knew. Uh oh. “My daughter’s told me all about you.”

“She has?” He sounded surprised. Good surprised. Like a lot of gloating could come of it later surprised. And of course, even when he was still inwardly shitting himself, he turned it around, charming your mother expertly. “That makes me nervous.”

“Only nice things of course.” Your mother reassured. “She never shuts up about you.”

“Mom!” You exclaimed. This had been what you were dreading. You changed the subject real fast. “What are you doing here anyway?” It worked.

“Leftovers.” She replied, pulling out a plastic Tupperware box from her purse. “Your dad was cooking again and thought we were a family of ten.” You chuckled, taking the container from her. Classic. You were sure he’d always thought that. You mom took another look at both you and Seokjin, a smile on her face, before she spoke again. “Well, I’ll leave you both to it.” Seokjin couldn’t help himself and laughed at her choice of phrase. You elbowed him. Childish fucker.

“Thanks for the food, Mommy,” you smiled sweetly.

She laughed. “Oh, now you’re nice.”

“I’m always nice!”

“That’s what she tells me too,” Seokjin piped up, making your mother laugh.

“Nice meeting you Seokjin. Eat some too.” She told him, directing her head to the container. “Sorry for my husband’s cooking.”

He chuckled. “Nice meeting you too.”

You followed her to the door, nodding in agreement when she told you she’d see you soon. Like you said, life had been busy. You were spreading yourself thin, but not thin enough to go visits your parents.

“That went well,” Seokjin said as soon as you closed the door. He sounded relieved.

“It did.” You agreed, placing the leftovers on the kitchen counter before walking towards him.

“Didn’t have time to overthink too much. Which is odd considering I was hiding a terrified boner.” You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck. He reached for your waist. “It’s gone now, thank the lord.”

“You’ve been overthinking it?”

He nodded “Yeah. Meeting parents is a big deal.” That made you smile. Cute. “Thanks for talking about me so much though. It definitely worked in my favour.”

There it was. One simple gloat. He couldn’t help it. You pushed at his shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Okay, I’ll keep my ego down.” He laughed. “Whew. Meeting your mom, huh. It’s getting serious.”

“Giving you permission to back out now.” You rolled your eyes, but despite playing it cool you couldn’t help but feel giddy at his words. Serious with Seokjin. It was all you’d ever wanted.

He scoffed, leaning down to place a kiss on the tip of your nose. “Never. You’re stuck with me now.”

You tried suppressing your smile but failed. You managed to sound casual though. “Doesn’t seem like a bad thing.”

He smiled back and you hugged him to you. Couldn’t help it. He squeezed your middle as he pulled away to speak. “Maybe it’s time you met my parents soon?”

Oh boy. Serious it was.

Not surprisingly, Lina couldn’t comprehend the taking it slow aspect. She knew your history with one another. Heard a few stories she’d rather forget. The fact you were starting from the beginning again – well, you’d never really started from the beginning in the first place, but y’know… The fact you were waiting boggled Lina’s mind.

“I really did think you’d last a week holding out.” She said tonight, girly night in taking a turn with boy talk. Check you two out, couldn’t last an hour without talking about your men. What had you both become?

“Like how come you don’t have all this built up sexual tension going on? It’s a love story like no other. You both waited so long to get together, you should be tearing off each other’s clothes. Going at it animal style.”

“Oh, my god,” you laughed. “Okay, maybe too much wine for you.” You took her empty glass and placed it on the coffee table. She had never been able to handle wine. It turned her into a different person. Tonight, one who was very passionate about Seokjin and you, it seemed…

“It’s not that I don’t want to have sex with him.” You explained. “Of course I do. But…” You paused, face flushing a little. Maybe the wine was getting to you too. “I know when it finally happens, it’s going to be amazing. The waiting is only going to make it better.”

That made you both giggle, giddy from the wine and sex talk. Lina reached over for some chips, crunching loudly as she thought something over in that (drunk) head of hers. “Maybe he lost his dick in an accident in between?”

“He didn’t lose it in an accident!” You laughed. It was like you hadn’t gone into full detail about last night’s vigorous palming activities not half an hour ago. He still had his dick alright.

Lina shrugged, stuffing her face again. “Maybe he has stage fright…”

She really was determined to get an explanation. Jesus, who’d have thought she’d wanted you to have sex with Seokjin this much? “I don’t know, I find it cute,” you shrugged yourself. He definitely wasn’t suffering from a case of stage fright. He’d had a healthy case of Erection every time your tongue slipped into his mouth. “Romantic.” You mused. “It’ll happen when the time’s right. Until then, we’re building this whole other layer to our relationship.”

If truth be told, you’d never felt like this in a relationship. All the others seemed like a joke looking back. Even with Yoongi. You’d been searching for these feelings with the wrong guy. Too dumb to see you could have everything you’d ever wanted with Seokjin. You’d never felt this comfortable. This happy. He really was the other half of you. You didn’t care how cheesy that sounded. Even if maybe you wouldn’t admit it to him yet.

“Yet he hasn’t made it official…” Lina couldn’t help herself. Muttering under her breath but loud enough for you to hear.

“Will you stop,” you told her. She was also waiting “patiently” for Seokjin to put a label on it. You, not so much. At this point you knew you were both serious. You were in a relationship, just not technically confirmed, and that was okay. Even if you were yet to call him your boyfriend out loud. (Read: You really wanted to.)

“What?” She feigned ignorance.

“Being negative. Me and Seokjin are happy. Everything’s amazing.”

Lina couldn’t stop her smile then, seeing your grin. “I know. I like seeing you like this. I’m just… You know me, I’m suspicious of everything.”

“Suspicious when it comes to Seokjin.” You corrected lightly.

She laughed but didn’t deny. Baby steps. She’d gone from despising the poor guy to practically ordering you to make a move in a year, so it was definitely getting somewhere. You wouldn’t forget she’d referred to you both as a “love story like no other” in a hurry though… You wouldn’t let her forget either!

“Oh, by the way,” she began, changing the subject – kinda. “We haven’t had a chance to double date yet… My parents are out of town for the weekend. What do you think about this: Lina’s Fancy Dinner Party. Got a ring to it, right?”

“I’m shitting myself. I’m actually shitting myself.”

“Will you calm down,” you laughed, hooking your arm with Seokjin’s as you stood in the doorway to Lina’s parents’ house. “You’re going to have fun.”

He’d been dreading this night ever since you’d told him about it a couple of days ago. It wasn’t just Lina and Jimin now, she’d also invited Yumi and her boyfriend, Taeil. The impending doom was real and the whole Uber ride here had been pretty amusing. You’d never seen him so nervous. It was cute. He really, really wanted your friends to like him. Not that they didn’t already, but could you tell him? No! He wasn’t listening.

“Fun? I’m pretty sure all your friends hate me.” He muttered, before his eyes widened comically. “This isn’t some kind of satanic sacrifice, right?”

“You’ve seen too many horror movies,” you tutted. You glanced at him, sighing softly when you saw the pitiful look on his face. Despite the jokes he really was anxious over this. You unhooked your arms and rubbed his back before straightening the collar of his dress shirt. This was a fancy dinner party after all. There was a dress code, and you weren’t complaining. Seokjin looked hot all fancy like this.

“Only Lina had some… misjudged opinions on you, and it’s past tense for a reason.”

Seokjin pulled a face. He still wasn’t too sure about that, but the kiss you landed on his mouth seemed to help.

“They’re here!!” Interrupted by the clicking of the door and Lina’s loud voice, you broke apart. “Found them kissing on the doorstep!”

You rolled your eyes and clasped Seokjin’s hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. “We hadn’t even rung the doorbell yet. How did you know we were here?”

“Porch light.” She replied flatly, pointing at you both and stepping aside to let you in. “None of that once you get inside. This is a sophisticated dinner party.”

“Got you,” you nodded, walking into the lounge to find Yumi, Taeil and Jimin already sat around the coffee table. “Here I was thinking it was some type of orgy…”

“Now that sounds like a party,” Taeil cheered.

Everyone laughed at that – apart from Lina of course… and surprisingly Seokjin, who looked too scared to even think about joking around… Or perhaps he just didn’t want to piss Lina off. Suck up.

“Get a room you two,” Yumi teased, wiggling her eyebrows as she watched you and Seokjin from over her wine glass. The dinner had been a success – Lina could actually cook. Who knew? Not you because you ordered takeout every time you hung out – and swiftly after that you’d moved onto entertainment. In the form of drinking games. Seokjin had seemed to loosen up by then, actually beginning to enjoy himself without any nerves. He and Lina had a few conversations. He’d even made her laugh which you thought he got rather smug about… After a good old game of beer pong (which wasn’t very fancy at all) you quickly moved onto ‘Never have I ever”, which of course had turned the three of you girls into a cackling mess. Things were said, things were confessed, and you were sure the guys didn’t know how to handle the details.

Now it was getting late, you were all winding down, sipping on wine or beer. Lina and Yumi were sharing the sofa with Jimin and Taeil, and Jin and you were curled up on the love seat. Definitely a little drunk, giggling and flirting together. His hand casually up your dress a little as he stroked your thigh.

“Surprised they got out of one long enough to come here,” Taeil commented.

“What do you expect? It’s only been a few weeks. They’re fresh in the feels.” Yumi almost pouted, turning to her boyfriend. “Babe, do you remember when we were like that?”

“How long have you been together?” Seokjin asked, and you kissed him on the cheek, proud he was making conversation. You’d been hanging out with his friends so often now it was normal, so it made you happy to know the same was beginning to happen with yours.

Taeil grinned and got Yumi into a bear hug, rubbing his cheek into hers as he answered. “One year, one month and 8 days. Want me to add the hours, baby?”

“Shurrup,” she shook him off her, but she was grinning from ear to ear at his dramatic display.

“Hey, Lina. Will that be us one day,” Jimin teased, draping his arm around her shoulders.

She played nonchalant, sipping on her wine. “Possibly.” Jimin just laughed, greatly amused by his girlfriend’s antics. It was obvious to anyone that she had fallen for him hard. Despite her cool façade.

“You guys were together before though, right?” Taeil directed the conversation back to you and Seokjin.

Your eyes widened, unsure on how to answer. “Uh, kinda.” Little did he know that every single thing you’d both answered during ‘Never have I ever’ had been about one another. Poor innocent Taeil…

“Big history,” Lina explained, puffing out her cheeks as she exhaled. They were bright red. She was drunk. Could tell by the way she was keeping everything that came out of her mouth short.

“I was there when they first hooked up,” Yumi added excitedly. “Well, not actually there. I was at the party.” Valid correction. “I didn’t know until a few months later though.” A pause.

“Honestly though, it was such a shock. Who would have thought it?” She continued. You shifted a little uncomfortably. You were never good with attention. “You and Kim Seokjin. Mind blown. I always thought you’d rather take a vow of celibacy than get dicked down by. Kim. Seokjin.”

Okay. So everyone was drunk, and here you were feeling like you were sobering up now. The sound of Jin’s laughter beside you eased you a little. “Let’s quit with the full name talk.”

Everyone laughed bar Lina, who turned her head to Yumi. “That’s why she kept it to herself for so long. He was her dirty little secret.”

“Hardly,” you piped up. You got she was kidding around, but for some reason you felt defensive. “Just know what you guys are like.”

“Well I think it’s cute how you guys decided to give it a proper go,” Jimin smiled. “You’re good together.”

Before you could say thanks, Lina was butting in. “I didn’t say they weren’t good together. They are! All we have to do now is wait for Seokjin to pop the question…”

“Marriage?” Taeil asked uncertainly.

“No, you idiot,” she laughed. “Girlfriend! They haven’t made it official yet.” You felt Seokjin freeze beside you. You didn’t dare look at him. Lina was in deep shit when you got home. Wrath over text was a scary thing.

“Oh, well no rush,” Taeil shrugged. “It took me two months to ask Yumi to be mine.”

“That’s true. Remember?” Yumi directed at you and Lina. “I was getting pretty panicky.”

“Awh, I’m sorry babe.” Taeil apologised. You all wrinkled your noses as they kissed, thankfully distracting the conversation long enough for it to change.

Surprisingly thanks to Lina herself. It was her groan that did it, as she buried her head into Jimin’s shoulder. “My head hurts and I need to stack everything in the dishwasher.”

“Didn’t you say no more wine a few nights ago,” you chuckled, throwing a cushion at her. She yelped dramatically. When you put your hand down, Seokjin clasped it, entwining your fingers. You snuck a smile his way. Knowing he wasn’t too traumatised by the direction of tonight’s conversation relieved you.

“Yeah Lina. C’mon. Lightweight,” Jimin prodded her. “We can clean up everything in the morning.”

“Noo. I think I’m going to be hungover tomorrow.” She whined. “Can someone help?”

“I will,” Seokjin offered. Shocking you, and everyone else in the room while he was at it. “Maybe some water will help you too?”

“Lina doesn’t hate me,” Seokjin sang in the back of the Uber. En route to his place.

You were wrapped into him, warm, cosy and a little sleepy. You couldn’t wait to crash out in bed. “Oh?” This piqued your interest though. He just sounded so pleased.

“Uh huh,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “We talked while in kitchen.” Oh okay. So he had ulterior motives when he helped her load the dishwasher. “She’s just suspicious of me. I get it. I don’t have the best track record. I think I put her mind at ease though.” He squeezed you happily.

Even though you were curious about their conversation you didn’t pry. “She still embarrassed you in front of everyone though.” And you… She still wasn’t let off the hook regardless of how drunk she was.

“It’s fine,” he sighed. “She put my mind at ease too. Told me I was worried for no reason.”

You frowned. “Worried? About what?”

“Asking you something.” Your heart stilled. Oh shit. He squeezed you again, murmuring in your ear. “Wanna take this further. These last few weeks have been amazing, huh?” All you could do was nod. You were getting all hot, cheeks a rosy hue no doubt. Forgetting the Uber driver could probably hear everything despite Seokjin’s low voice. Not that you really cared.

“I already think of you as my girlfriend. Just too scared to call you it. In case I jinx things. In case you’re secretly sick of me already.”

You managed to give him a tiny scoff. Voice shaky. “As if.”

“So…” He whispered. “Will you do it? Be my girlfriend?”

You swallowed, composing yourself and glanced at him. “You’re really asking me in the back of an Uber?”

He grinned. “I spot a moment and I’m going for it. Lina’s orders.”

You laughed, cupping his face. “You know you don’t have to listen to her, right?”

“I know,” he nodded. “She was just right this time.”

You turned, resting the back of your head on his shoulder. “I’ll only be your girlfriend under one condition.”

“Hm?” He placed another kiss on the top of your head, both arms wrapped around your chest.

“You’ll be my boyfriend.”

He hummed in contemplation. “That doesn’t sound too bad. May have to think about it for a few hours or so though. Maybe a night–ooff.”

You cut him off with a whack to the chest, twisting around to face him again. “It’s a yes or else.”

He curled his tongue against his cheek. “That’s hot.” You waited patiently. “Of course it’s a yes.”

“Wait. Wait, wait,” Seokjin half panted, breaking away from your mouth. It was a wonder you’d made it as far as his bedroom, let alone his bed. As soon as the Uber had dropped you off, you were on one another. It had finally happened. You were Seokjin’s girlfriend. He was your boyfriend, and now everything was right with the world.

“Let me do something.” He reached for his phone in the back pocket of his pants, rolling off you to unlock it and start clicking away. “Check your phone.”

On cue it pinged, still in your purse which had been slung on the floor. You sat up and rushed for it curiously. Laughing along the way because what was he up to? You laughed even harder when you read the notification.

Kim Seokjin sent you a relationship request.

Facebook official, huh? Check you two out. He came up from behind you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, his breathing still a little heavy. You had quite literally kissed his face off. “Was just gonna ask you like that but I thought it might me too lame.”

“Aw. That would’ve been cute.”

“Fuck,” he cursed, looking regretful. “Second guessing the Uber now.”

“Shush.” You murmured, leaning back to kiss him softly. “I liked that too.” You were sure the driver really appreciated the cringe fest too…

Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping.

The noise from both your phones interrupted you this time. You begrudgingly pulled away, looking down at the screen.

Jung Hoseok commented on a post you were tagged in: HOLY SHIT Jung Hoseok commented on a post you were tagged in: IT’S HAPPENING IT’S HAPPENING IT’S HAPPENING Hwang Lina commented on a post you were tagged in: FINALLY thnk me later Seokjin 😘 Kim Namjoon commented on a post you were tagged in: marriage next 😉

Seokjin read them over your shoulder, laughing at your idiot friends as you groaned. “God. You’ll get scared away before we even start.”

He hugged you closer, kissing your cheek. “Not a chance in hell. Wanna elope?”

“Shut up,” you giggled. Despite your joking around, you didn’t think you’d ever been happier. You wanted to tell him that but then his mouth was on your earlobe. He knew that was your weakness. He was on his back and you were straddling him as soon as his tongue slipped inside the shell. If he wanted to make you all hot and bothered, a heads up would’ve been nice. You definitely weren’t tired anymore. Even more so feeling his hands drag up your thighs where your dress had ridden up. You viewed him from above, realising you must’ve tugged at his shirt a little too hard already. It was stretched around the collar, a button undone. He looked amazing. You tilted your head to the side. “Did I tell you how hot you look in a dress shirt?”

He paused to think. “Hm. You may have mentioned it a couple hundred times.” As he spoke he grabbed your butt, pulling you down to level with him. You giggled, letting him kiss your face like something possessed. He paused before he got to your mouth, murmuring sweetly. “You looked beautiful tonight.”

You pouted. “Don’t use big words to brag on my shitty vocabulary.”

He looked at you questioningly, amusement dancing in his eyes. Maybe you were still a little tipsy. That paired with the giddiness of tonight’s turn in events and it really felt like you were floating on a cloud of happiness. But it was really Seokjin’s body. Firm and large underneath you.

You really couldn’t get enough of his mouth. His taste. You think you’d kissed him way over a couple hundred times since you’d gotten (back) together. He argued and said it was more. You didn’t know, you had trouble keeping count. You couldn’t get enough of him. All perfect and pretty and amazing. He was yours. For real this time. Confirmed. Boyfriend. You smiled into his mouth at the thought again.

“What?” He chuckled, grin just as wide. He knew what. He felt it too.

“Tonight is the best night ever.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Am not.” You quipped. “You’re drunk.”

“Am not.” His lips were mashed with yours. “I’m just really fucking happy.”

You slipped your tongue into his mouth, not caring if you turned it sloppy. You wanted it to be messy. You wanted to just let yourself go. To give into every little feeling of pure joy you had in your body. It was wet and warm and sticky, and Seokjin’s hands were naughty. They slipped up your dress, over your ass, rubbing the flesh and pinged your thong with two of his fingers. Your stomach flipped. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched you like this in a while but it was the first time he’d been so blatant about it. The snap of elastic stayed ringing in your ears as you moaned. You uncontrollably rubbed against him. He grunted into your mouth and something throbbed.

You broke away from his mouth with a pop, sitting up on him wobbly. “You’re naughty, Kim Seokjin.” You scolded.

He just looked smug, a shit eating grin on his face. “Not anymore than you are.” Had you pulled at his hair without noticing? It looked a little wild. Regardless, you were getting distracted again. His hands still up your dress, gripping your ass as he rubbed you against his crotch. He was fully hard. You felt it strain against his pants and press into the pulsing between your legs.

“Mario is watching us,” he whispered. “Wants to be me.”

“Ew.” You wrinkled your nose. You’d forgotten all about that creepy figurine.

“Want me to turn him around?”

You shook your head. “He can watch.” If truth be told you couldn’t bear it if Seokjin got up right now, even if he was coming straight back. You circled harder into him, such a simple pleasure never feeling so good. Moisture grew and collected in your thong. Barely. You were a few minutes away from spoiling his dress pants. He held your weight as you leant back, letting you grind to your heart’s content.

“Does it feel good? Grinding on my dick like that?”

“Mhmm.” It was all a moan. Couldn’t think to do anything else. Such a simple way of words but it had you burning up. You’d missed what his mouth could do to you. You’d missed him like this. Memories came back, swarming the front of your mind. Clouding it. So when you felt gravity leave you, back landing on the mattress with a silent thud, you were momentarily stunned. Pinned down, wet and horny.

“What are you doing?” You gasped, which flew into a moan when you felt his crotch thrust into you.

He spread your legs, dress riding up even more, bunched up around your waist. “Protecting your modesty. Mario’s a pervert.” To give it to him, he really did want to sound causal, but his voice was strained, breathing hard and you rubbed against him shamelessly.

It was odd. You were beyond frustrated. Craving him like you never had before, but this became enough. Feeling him solid against your barely covered core, starting to thrust into you like he was actually fucking you. It was hot. It was working. It was enough. Just as pleasurable as his dick would be inside you.

Needy and raw. Messy and crude, but just so amazing. Pent up feelings finally getting their own way. You clung to him, wrapped your legs around him, rutted against him obscenely until you were a moaning, sweaty mess. Simulating sex desperately, because you needed him and wanted him any which way.

Seokjinnn,” you whined, unsticking yourself from his mouth to catch your breath. Back arching as he gripped your legs from behind the knee, thrusting forward hard.

He was panting, sweat collecting between his brow which was furrowed in effort. “C-can you cum like this?”

“Y-yeh,” you nodded eagerly. It was great you were on the same page. Sweet relief was close. It tingled through your body and curled your toes. You were so turned on you’d cum from anything right now. “Can you?”

“I think so,” he breathed into your cleavage. Mouth now distracted with kissing the tops of your breasts. Your nipples were painfully hard, desperate to be freed from the dress and desperate to feel his tongue. But not tonight. “Actually.” Seokjin knelt up, shaky hands undoing his fly and pushing his pants down to the middle of his thighs. His erection strained against the underwear and you throbbed at the sight.

“Now I can,” he grinned goofily. He moved closer, and you flattened one of your legs to the bed, letting him slide in between it and the one still folded at the knee. “I’m so hard,” he laughed breathlessly, a hand reaching down to grip his dick. You followed, unable to help yourself. Squeezing tightly. Greedily. “Fuck.” He sounded impatient and desperate, rushing to thrust into you once again. You moved your hand to his hip, holding it tightly as he held onto your knee, gaining leverage to begin rubbing into you hard. “This feels so good.” He astounded and you nodded wildly in agreement.

You were close. Not long left, and as soon as he began circling into your core, swollen and dripping by now surely, that was it. The final push. “Don’t stop.” You begged, reaching for him any way you could. “I’m g-onna… I really am…” You trailed off, laughing in disbelief.

“Yeah?”

You nodded again, words now failing you as the heat built up, body shuddering to its orgasm. Seokjin didn’t relent, circling harder as you came, until he couldn’t take it any longer and collapsed onto your body.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He was spent. Exhausted, sweaty and near orgasm himself. You shifted a little so he didn’t rub against the sensitivity still hot between your legs and let him finish off on the inside of your thigh. You could tell by how his body stiffened, a moan like grunt dragging from his throat. You moaned back, wrapping your arms around him tightly as he burrowed his behind your waist. You clung to one another, both masses of sweat. Heavy breathed and unable to talk for a little while.

It was Seokjin that came to first surprisingly. Despite practically dying to get you both to cum. He laughed into the crook of your neck, and you looked down at him curiously. He rolled off you a little. Hair stuck to his forehead. “Jesus fucking christ. Feel like a teenager just done humping my pillow.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You don’t do that anymore?”

His eyes widened. “You do?”

You nodded as you wriggled free from him fully and pulled down your dress. Your underwear clung to you. You felt extra sticky now that you’d cooled down. “It’s a valid form of masturbation.”

“Well, shit. You’ll have to show me sometime.”

You laughed, sitting up. Seokjin stayed lying down, looking up you with the softest look in his eyes. He was definitely exhausted from all the humping. “Shit. Sandeul isn’t here right?” You hadn’t thought about that before, severely distracted as you’d rushed into the apartment.

“I dunno. I can’t remember if his door was closed or not.” Jin rolled onto his back, shimmying his pants up. “Oh well. Not like he wasn’t used to it before. Won’t take him long to adjust again.” He shot you a smirk and you giggled. “Wanna shower or something?”

You groaned. It was too late to shower, and you were tired again, but there was no way you could stay like this. You jumped off the bed, grabbing your stuff that had a permanent home at his place already. “I’ll clean up quick and get ready for bed.”

“I’ll go after you.” He pulled a face, adjusting his crotch. “Bit gross.”

Laughing, you stopped beside him and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Wanna go first?”

“Nah. It’s fine.” He smiled. “I need a moment anyway. Whew.”

On your way out you paused by Mario, twisting him to face the wall. You winked in Seokjin’s direction. “For next time.”

You were tucked up in bed trying to stay awake on your phone when Seokjin came back from his shower. “Near naked?” Damn. What did you do to be gifted with such a sight. You’d seen him come out the shower a few times since you’d gotten together, towel slung around his waist, or watched him get dressed before you went out somewhere, but he hadn’t gone to bed in just his boxers. He better watch it, you’d jump his bones again.

“I’m so hot.” He moaned. Tell you about it. Although you didn’t think he meant that type of hot. “That was a bigger work out than the gym.”

“Not used to it anymore.” You teased, pulling up his side of the duvet so he could get in. As soon as he did you were attached to him, cuddling up. “You lied to me by the way,” you murmured, pulling away as you dragged your hand down his chest.

“Hm?” He looked confused.

“Remember you said you didn’t have abs anymore…”

He took a moment to think before he scoffed. “That was ages ago, but these are not abs regardless.”

“Are to.”

“Are not.” He tried to pull the comforter up, attempting to cover his body. “This is just normal. I mean, I can try and get them back for you?”

“Shut up,” you exclaimed. “Really, Seokjin?” You clung to his neck. “I don’t care about things like that. I like you any which way. I really like you.” You emphasised, placing a lingering kiss on his cheek.

“Get off,” he chuckled. You could feel his grin underneath your lips.

You buried your face in his neck instead, showering it with little kisses. “I think you’re hot, Hot, HOT anyway.”

He was laughing loudly now, grabbing your elbows to try and push you away. “Tickles,” he whined. “You’re crazy.” You sprung from him as soon as he began tickling under your armpits. Relenting instantly, head falling back into the pillows with a cry.

“I think you’re hot too,” he whispered, leaning over you, mouth now on your neck as one of his hands ran up your side, cupping your boob gently. “Grinding on me. Making me lose my shit. Only you could make me cum like that… In my fucking underwear.” You giggled, squirming under him as he growled and nibbled your earlobe. You were heating up again, a fool to his words. But of course your body had to betray you. A yawn escaped. You didn’t even know you’d been holding it in.

“You’re tired,” he commented, pulling back to push stray strands of hair away from your face.

“Mmm,” you admitted, eyes heavy and begging to be closed.

He kissed the tip of your nose. “Let’s go to sleep.”

There was no point arguing. Besides, it just felt too good being wrapped up in Seokjin’s arms once he’d flicked the lamp off. “Goodnight girlfriend,” he murmured in your ear, shaking you a little when you only hummed in response, half asleep. “Say it back.”

‘Goodnight girlfriend.”

“Nooo,” he whined, squeezing you.

You giggled, entwining your hand with his. You were just teasing. “Goodnight boyfriend.”

Written 2019. Reworked/Edited 2020 Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2020

#seokjin smut #bts smut #jin smut #seokjin fic #bts fic #fic:crystallised #floralseokjin:writings

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xsay10x · 4 years ago

Text

I'll be my own Inquirer

Why so incapable of contemplating this constantly unstable mental state put up with it for a taste of what it feels to be understood for once but is it worth the risk I really need to think this through why I'm reluctant

to share my ideals and opinions tell people what my thoughts are open up with my consciences but cant quite make a coherent sentences so I just hide keep everything inside make sure nothing can come in from the outside because i don't care to confide in the ones who saw something good in me

Wow.. oh! really? what a pussy you see what I mean who talks about their feelings you just need to vibe bro it's not that complex just go with the flow let go stop holding on to the to the shortest rope with the least likelyhood of success

Success what is success dress up for attention have the latest model and nicest brand surrounding yourself with distractions procrastinating instead of contemplating how to be the best you that you want to be

But am I changing for me? or for what I was programmed to be just waiting for directions like the rest of humanity

Stop and take a hit just smile and laugh shut up and start relaxing your attitude is really taxing

How is it, that you can be relaxing while others are slaving away to pay their bills mountains that came from hills

Nah man here just take some more pills I'm not here for this shit

You ain't real enough for this shit just a cog in a machine a dog on a leash careful not to bite the one who feeds

Following orders and deeds obligated to represent reputations neglecting their just vessel a tool being used to confuse the masses they think their the consumers being programmed frequent frequencys colors and pretty flashing lights

Designed to have you mindlessly sitting on the couch smiling neglecting your brain till you go insane till you open of your pouch of pain meds now your addicted but not affected cause your drugs did their job of robbing you of your cognitive thinking now your a cog no need to thrive a bee in hive serve your queen that's not obscene

I'm not trying to instigate these situations I hate but I can't pretend that I dont spectate and sit alone think hold what wait try a lil harder to file my thoughts thought hard about it I feel myself departing no longer hanging I the branch I've hanging on for way to long

I cant let me lose myself cuz I'm all I got I don't care what i was taught I'm not on the clock

Still so unsure what the game plan is but I'm getting more uncomfortable with uncertainty

Let myself stay close to home dont get lost all on my own but still complete that dont mean I want to compete

It's not hard to see that I'm socially inept. I'm begrudgingly accepting the fact that I don't mix with society cuz a part of me has always wanted to blend in but in my own way

Cant even keep track of these days constant reruns don't need the attention I dont want to be in your silly little club or a taste of the sweet life I dont ever want to be a wife

I want stay true to me but when I'm obstructing my own sight its really hard to see who I actually want to be

I went to wander and roam free think for myself try to make it on own but now I'm lost in this labyrinth that is everything I fear everything i hold dear lost in mind and seem to find this part of be that seems to be missing

I'm no longer okay please stay away

I've created a tailored hell just for to sink further into insanity no I don't need help. I'll do it by myself just go away

Or you'll have hell to pay I'm I'm toxic but not just cause I'm sick of all this shit of adjusting and trusting for them to not care what I think

But they dont have to but I'm of hearing bitching from someone whose so insignificant that try to be something superior to me

Why cant we see that were equally capable of maintaining a stable mindset but I know it just goes right over my headset manically depressed or just obsessed trying to breaking away when something's

Telling me I need to stay to find that there will always be pain clean up another blood stain refrain from buying a fresh blade

At a masquerade ball try to find my way but feeling more like im looking in fun house mirrors facing the fears I have of myself

Won't stop complicating everything thing I'm saying can't stop arguing with my self is there really a war going on in my head can't stand the hours I set here laying in bed waiting patiently silently debating constantly switching the side I stand on till I fall find myself laying in bed awake again

Not know how I left myself drifting so long

Being shifty but letting things slip out of control and I don't think I'm holding on to anything but my problems can't keep my promises

I just want to find the common denominator to all this mental labor. But I trapped myself within these these conflicting thoughts

the way I'm feeling can't say just what I'm thinking cant help how far I'm falling

I wont reach out for help... I don't need your help. I dont want your help I just run away from everything right now

Why are all my thoughts consistently conflicting wont stop contradicting what I try to put my mind too

Always finding new ways to contribute to the progression of humanity

I won't stop obsessing I can't bring myself to comply even if I have to lie

Whenever I stand up tall try to make myself different from you all but the universe is so much bigger than us all we don't realize how far we're actually falling

It gets me wondering to where I just sit alone pondering the possibilities of so many diverse realities

The perspectives of everyone. are enough to confuse anyone

Making you feel so discombobulated used to think everyone else was assimilated

Yet it still feels like ive been searching for so long feel my patience slowly slipping away

As my path remain unclear forced myself to stay say I was okay not knowing what that means to me

I fell away blindly moving to go forward into life I thought wanted still struggling to grow up and deal what I've been through not knowing what seems right I dont know how much longer I can stay fight

Wanted so bad to hold onto the mistakes I've learned from but I fell down a rabbit hole everything pulling me back into the habits I want to let go of

I don't know how to move forward I want to go but part of me won't budge

I need a nudge feel free to judge me but who am i judging really why am i comparing all of these people? because I wont let myself see when in comes down to it the only one that i got through it all is me and I need to focus on myself cuz I'm all I have for the long haul but I'm still not ready at all

afraid to receive affection or look at my own reflection not willing to stop and check my agenda hoping to get enough high that it will distract me from my health and keep me from falling into this paradox I call myself

I just have to keep deceiving myself so I cant trick everyone and so I Don't forget to smile and constantly contradict and contort so that they cant see me decaying and semi consciously constraining what im actually thinking because its wrong to think about all the bullshit the majority's put up with an If you can't help but think about it

Just pretend like your okay because that's how you run in the human race

Still can't help ask why I alive? Who is this mask? I'll follow their lead finish the task neglect what need

To fuel the fire that seeds my Insanity

Because I am alright I'm doing fine

I'll say that I'm okay so I dont bare the shame of running away

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bladekindeyewear · 5 years ago

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ upd8 2020-01-17

Alright, morningblogging yesterday’s 2020-01-17 upd8 to Homestuck^2 let’s go! Spoiler-free again. I kinda don’t want even the next chapter names image-spoiled above the cut anymore so I’m going to have to figure out WHAT to put above the cut in these liveblog posts for visual reinforcement... a unique silly icon? Going back once I’m done with the upd8 and posting something non-spoilery but weird-looking out of context?

Eh, can’t be assed. Just know that after this I’m going to pony up for the Patreon commentary and skim it for anything plot-useful to y’all (in a separate post). Let’s get started.

Okay, what’s next: Any bonuses? Oh, none! Phew. Unless those are coming faster too and just staggered differently, which would mean I gotta overcome my irrational pre-Homestuck-reading anxiety even MORE often. :T

No Homestuck you don’t GET to ask how my-- ah, right. :P

(FYI, HS^2 has been good to my emotions so far, quite a balm for the epilogues, so once I START reading I’m usually fine; but after being hurt so badly how could I possibly convince my lizard brain to trust it until it’s right in front of me? Seriously, just hearing that the upd8 has landed messes me up a bit until I come fix it by reading w/ y’all here.)

Okay, so whose feelings? As much as I’ve been waiting for Jade, I hope this isn’t about Jade.

> ==>

Ah fuck, we’re finally with the Pursuit Crew. Bracing myself. That means we get to see probably sleeping Jade ( :C ), full-swing DaveKat (approving nod), the first canon onscreen look at masculine-mode Roxy (<3), a probably pretty pissed off Kanaya (possibly either the feelings target, the one Saying How Are Your Feelings, or both), and uh... did they drag Callie along? Or leave her back there with her meta freakout? Probably left her back there, but... hm.

Let me turn up the brightness on this screen to sear these next pages into my retinas. (Also, it feels odd to still be using a four-person “==>” for these, although if Jade is still asleep the numbers might fit on both ends... :c )

> ==>

I don’t think Dad is in the spacefaring business, so this is probably one of Jake’s shittier spaceship designs.

> ==>

...well that’s a touch disturbing. Is that a Jade-occupied bed or are those just pillows?

Oh what the fresh fanfic’y heck is this command.

> i enter.

Okay that’s great. I got a kick out of that.

JADE [in calliope red]: the prince’s power grows.

--but that’s not. That explains the narrative command text, it’s alt!callie talking through a still conked-out Jade. Please let her wake up between speak-throughs, please tell me you’ve learned that trick?? I already know you’re gonna pull an “oh she was asleep pretty much all of those THREE YEARS OF TRAVEL” thing on me and that’s hard fucking enough to deal with.

KARKAT: JESUS CHRIST!

He’s actually using the full curse correctly, huh?

...These commands. Guess part of the puzzle is how much alt!Callie is being typically morbid and how much she might actually be wising up enough to get a kick out of this.

> the knight of blood falls.

DAVE: dude can you chill for like even a single fucking second DAVE: also are you ok

Has CallieJade chilled for even a single second this entire trip?? Is he asking just if Karkat’s okay or Jade too???

--yeah I’m overblowing things out of nervousness. Just wait and see a bit, boots.

Alt!Callie has at least learned to be more of a smartass:

> karkat is characteristically appreciative of the alarm call.

Shirt trade Karkat, nice. And uh, Jade’s dress sure is a... dress. Hm.

(Did alt!Callie alchemize adjustments to did she just luck out to have a red-symbol’d Bec belt and accent leggings? I’d prefer the former, because as much as it would be acceptable within Homestuck proper, using the transition between the epilogues and this new-author’d work to just HAPPEN to give her a fitting outfit without an excuse via providence is kind of lazy.)

KARKAT: OH, PARDON THE FUCK OUT OF ME FOR OVERREACTING A LITTLE WHEN MY GOOD FRIEND "POSSESSED JADE" BUSTS INTO MY RESPITEBLOCK AT 5 AM! KARKAT: NEXT TIME I’LL JUST PULL THE COVERS BACK AND LET HER CLIMB IN! JADE: i am uninterested in that scenario. KARKAT: GREAT! POSSESSED JADE ISN’T EVEN HORNY! HOW FUCKED UP IS THAT?

...please let that mean he’s not used to her being possessed all the time and she wakes up sometimes. PLEASE.

DAVE: but im pretty sure i locked that door JADE: i unlocked it with my mind. DAVE: fuck KARKAT: FANTASTIC. JADE: the prince’s powers are growing, but so are mine.

Dave, I’m pretty sure regular-ass no-Green-Sun Space powers can flip a few lock tumblers too. (--though, I guess from context this was a Jakeship technolock. Confirmation on the ship’s bad taste in design. --I think I’m foggily remembering it said in the Epilogues that they took one of Jake’s ships just like Dirk did, too... man, being depressed so much by the Epilogues sure took a lot out of my ability to recall them decently.)

KARKAT: LIKE YOU DON’T FLOAT AROUND LIKE A CREEPY PIECE OF SHIT ALL DAY AS IT IS?

God DAMN IT she’s been asleep and possessed the whole fucking time.

> sleep is abandoned, coffee sought.

More obligatory DaveKat being cute, somehow only emphasized by the embarrassing glowing-with-power observer who doesn’t really get any of it.

Ah, here we go:

> the rogue is also awake.

Oh huh. Cool!

Hero outfit, understated... her his choice of heart-shades color-coded to stand out from Dave more to avoid further mistaken identity cases. Works well! (Holy shit I only JUST remembered at the end to go back and correctly gender Roxy as him, that was close. I blame the epilogues for a lack of visual reinforcement; I shouldn’t have as much trouble soon enough. Seriously, I don’t remember ANYTHING without visual reinforcement, I think that’s why I remember so much of Homestuck proper so clearly.)

KARKAT: OH SHIT, THERE SHE IS! I DIDN’T EVEN HEAR HER FOLLOW US! ROXY: sometimes a girls just got to get her drift on i guess ROXY: it be like that

ilu roxy.

I missed Roxy so much, you guys. I need more of him remarking on all this crazy shit if I’m gonna stay sane though all this. (And I need more of him and AWAKE JADE kicking ass independently or together if I’m going to continue to believe there’s justice in the world.)

> ==>

We rarely saw Rose drinking anything but the rare coffee in canon, but I think Kanaya would have gotten her plenty into tea, yes. Or at the very least, wanting the aesthetic of drinking tea with Kanaya would have gotten Rose into tea even if it never crossed Kanaya’s mind to try the stuff.

ROXY: well i mean who knows what she drinks now ROXY: dirk probs tossed the coffee machine out the space window right away ROXY: dude doesnt "believe" in "substances" > the prince is contemplated for a moment in silence.

FUCK, Dirk can see the narrative all the way out here??? No wonder alt!Callie’s forced to have possession turned on 24/7. That’s fucking disappointing. How the hell are we going to get any proper Jade time with THAT hanging over our heads? She’d only be able to do anything when Dirk’s knocked out, and maybe not even THEN!

I was virtually promised more of actual non-asleep Jade getting shit done in HS^2. Now there’s an even longer wait on it than I expected. This sucks.

(EDIT: BOY did I misread that link line. Thinking “is contemplated” meant is sitting contemplating, when it meant "is being contemplated by everyone here". That was dumb of me.)

*clicks that next link*

Oh my goodness, Roxy joined the Bird Hair Crew. It makes him look like a fucking asshole but I kind of love it.

KARKAT: IS THERE MILK?

I can’t believe Karkat is okay with drinking milk. --yes, culturally Trolls are more comfortable with animal excretions than we are, but you would’ve thought years of railing against Equius would have purged any tolerance the idea of milk from his psyche.

I guess Dave introduced him to cereal, and it was all over from there.

DAVE: this is more like a castle DAVE: a castle of idk DAVE: twenty something ennui

Sounds like a relatable mood. Especially considering Dirk probably decided to conquer reality out of almost nothing but twenty-something ennui.

Alright. You aren’t going to turn Kanaya into an alcoholic or anything on us are you?

> the knight of time seeks a sylph...

--this is the shittiest shipboard starship aesthetic.

> ...and finds her, momentarily.

WOW that looks fucking depressed. :(

> ==>

...okay you know what? Never mind. That outfit has wrapped straight back around into Trying Too Hard and is now hilarious.

DAVE: you ever feel like our whole lives are eventually gonna end up like this DAVE: just blasting through space on a sweeps long journey to ""somewhere"" chasing after or running from some vague enemy thats sometimes a god modded pet dog and sometimes your dad DAVE: without the faintest fucking idea of whats going to happen when we get there DAVE: thats a little specific but you know what i mean

Why do you think the epilogues upset us so much? We thought we’d won free of that bullshit.

> ==>

Oh jesus christ that’s the most depressingly sad I’ve ever seen Kanaya drawn. :C

--Karkat got you to watch Serendipity? That’s amazing, Dave.

KANAYA: You Arent Reminding Me Of Her As I Rarely Think Of Anything Else KANAYA: I Close My Eyes And I See Her KANAYA: I Keep Them Open And I See Her

Fuck.

Y’know how little showing these two in love and actually HAPPY together we’ve seen in this entire comic and its subworks? Despite them having spent at least a few happy years together we only saw in tiny screenclips? And how Candy alluded super hard that they most likely couldn’t get that in this real timeline where shit’s going down?

Seriously, FUCK. You could at least pretend to give us some hope, here.

Oh no, don’t ask for the nursery story, Dave. Unless it turns out to be a funny one or a Rose twist on an old story or something. Which it probably is, I should stop worrying.

> ==>

KANAYA: Oh Its A Wriggler Story About A Young Prince And The Beloved Flower He Loved And Lost DAVE: flower DAVE: like a plant KANAYA: Its A Fairytale Dave DAVE: right KANAYA: A Singular Wild Rose He Failed To Cherish When He Had Her KANAYA: And His Journey Of Discovering What She Meant To Him All Along KANAYA: Culminating In A New Quest To Find Her And Win Her Back

Dirk you PIECE OF SHIT did you rewrite the narrative of the fucking STORIES SHE TOLD CHILDREN?!?? Does the fact that alt!Callie is only in the present mean he can rewrite ANY past event we didn’t literally SEE??? FUCK you. Seriously fuck all of this.

Please tell me she was kidding just then, or realizes there’s fucking something wrong with what she’s saying and getting angry or.

(EDIT: shoutyourporpoise replied: "Hey, idk If you picked up on this, but the 'nursery story' Rose told to the wigglers is just The Little Prince, which is maybe a BIT early for them to read, but I don't think that's a case of Dirk changing the narrative; its just Rose being Too Adult as usual." Oh, damn, I didn't even CATCH that it was that story. That makes all of this a lot more forgivable, even if pretty unforgivably leaning into the fiction that Dirk used to brainwash and kidnap her. Maybe that's exactly why it worked -- fiction, a story so blazed into the public consciousness? Hm. Thanks, shoutyourporpoise.)

KANAYA: But In A Way I Feel As If It Is the Greater Universe Trying To Tell Me Something

Mother fuck I’m even going to have to see our protagonists warped by Dirk when they’re ostensibly FULLY SHIELDED aren’t I. There’s only so much of that I would be able to take, you know.

KANAYA: It May Simply Stem From My Longing To See Her Again And How Much Is Indicative Of Something More Sinister KANAYA: She Is A Goddess Of Light And The Only Of Her Kind We Know Is Alive After All KANAYA: Maybe Shes Wrested Dominion Of The Entire Concept In All Its Appearances Within This Frame Of Reference

Hm. Well, it being a product of Rose’s ascension instead of Dirk’s is possibly a more charitable take, with Ultimate Rose projecting the delusion enforced on her backward, visible to past Rose’s Sight when she isn’t paying attention and thus paving the way for Dirk to paradoxically exploit that “ideal” as something Lighty and Important and “Perfect”. I still don’t fucking like it though.

> ==>

DAVE: sorry i know you say you got your badass monster powers but kanaya you look tired as hell DAVE: not that im tryna psyche you or whatever but youre waxing poetic in the dark which i guess is maybe on brand but still

Yyyep.

DAVE: unless terezi is lurking in the vents somewhere and now that i bring that up its actually not out of the question so im kind of gonna be thinking about that one for a while

Pffff.

DAVE: youre the only person i know whos still basically the same as when i met you

--Which is kind of going to have to change, right? She’s got some other cosmic purpose ready to change her a little more than she changed pre-human-troll-meetup, you’d think.

> ==>

Cute as hell.

> ==>

KANAYA: How Are Your Feelings

There’s the title drop. I’d think Dave’s doing pretty well, considering? Still fucked over by Dirk betraying and tricking Rose away who he’s been close with all his life, but.

> ==>

DAVE: except sometimes your best friend disappears and your other best friend goes into a ghost coma and your third best friend fucks off to space with your dad DAVE: the dude youve spent the last 7 years convincing yourself isnt an egomaniacal anime villain DAVE: and who isnt actually lying in wait to completely decimate your life and your emotions and shit

Ah... yeah. A little worse than my casual list, huh? Forgot that Jade vanishing into a possession-coma for THREE FUCKING YEARS is going to be hard on people inside the comic too, fuck.

DAVE: maybe it was naive to think that a bunch of twenty something trauma victims could run a society

I was honestly surprised they TRIED to run society at all. Jasp even just highlighted a big reason why not in the bonuses.

DAVE: cool how earth c existed for centuries then we show up and manage to ruin society in seven fucking years

Well, the trolls got THEIR lesson on why they didn’t deserve to rule over their new universe like gods; I guess some of y’all needed that lesson too?

DAVE: every serious conversation i have inevitably falls apart into riffing on a casual acquaintances ass

True.

Dammit, Dave didn’t feel like he could just be Some Guy even on Earth C. :(

> ==>

...don’t think I’ve forgotten that nursery story, though. I don’t want to think that it was something that ACTUALLY past happened, especially not without manipulation. Like maybe past Rose was foreseeing the false purpose that Dirk wrote for her or the like, a cooperative misunderstanding between the two instead of Dirk or Rose literally reaching back in time.

> meanwhile...

KARKAT: WAIT, WHY THE FUCK AM I EVEN ASKING? HE’S OBVIOUSLY NOT FINE. KARKAT: ARE ANY OF US? ARE YOU? ROXY: not rly KARKAT: EXACTLY.

--Oh right. I remember that Callie and Roxy were going reasonably steady in Meat even though it was only alluded to, she didn’t freak out and stay awol or what have you. That’s good to remember. But it means Roxy deliberately left her behind to go on this dangerous quest, for years. :C

KARKAT: KANAYA BARELY EVEN TALKS, CALLIOPE WON’T LEAVE THEIR CABIN, JADE JUST FLOATS AROUND LIKE A CREEPY BALLOON THAT’S MOSTLY MADE OF HAIR.

Oh, SHIT. I should have read one line further. They DID bring her. Alt!Callie being here too must really FUCK with her. ...maybe she can actually learn to accept that alternate way her life might’ve played out, though?

KARKAT: THE REALLY FUCKED UP THING IS I MIGHT BE THE MOST OKAY OUT OF ALL OF US, WHICH IS HOW YOU KNOW SHIT HAS REALLY GONE GLOBES UP.

Quite true.

ROXY: ur kinda an intense dude anybody ever tell u that KARKAT: NO.

Pff.

> ==>

KARKAT: AGAINST PRETTY MUCH ALL ODDS, AND DESPITE ME NOT DESERVING ANY OF IT, I ENDED UP GETTING PRETTY MUCH EVERYTHING I WANTED. KARKAT: OVER AND OVER AGAIN. KARKAT: SOMETIMES IT ALMOST FEELS LIKE WHATEVER SLATHERING MONSTROSITY OF A COSMIC HELLBEAST THAT PUT ALL THIS SHIT INTO MOTION...ACTUALLY LIKES ME?

Well, if you want to blame Lord English for instance... we never saw Caliborn and Karkat interact much, but the parallels between the two were drawn so severely that Caliborn was basically the idealized, multiverse-threatening Ultimate Kismesis that he’d always dreamed of. And operated against him without him even ever quite realizing it.

If a level of “respect” went from Caliborn to Karkat, too, from his Lord-Englishy vision nigh-omnipresent, then this outcome isn’t very surprising at all.

> ==>

(I don’t quite feel I get why Roxy shifted to this exasperated-Dave expression, but I get logically that he’d been waiting for Karkat to make a breakfast choice... Homestuck proper rarely pulled a “last line said corresponds to next-panel’s expression” without either leaving the conversation blank or having the NEXT lines of the conversation reinforce it, to prevent this inelegant misunderstanding. Andrew was really damned talented in getting his point across visually, in that regard. Just like, that careful visual intent delivery.)

Alright, I guess that’s it for this short upd8! Meeting the pursuit crew was both more and less difficult than I expected. Hopefully I get desensitized a bit as the characters continue to feel semi-almost-sorta-fine.

I have NO idea how this group is gonna work as a proper crew when we get to whatever weird other-players’ session this shit is going down in, though.

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots #spoiler #spoilers #shoutyourporpoise

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redrobinfection · 5 years ago

Text

(15) Horror Movies

SociallyAwkwardFox’s Spooktober - Day 15 “Horror Movies”

~*~

Tim loves his boyfriends. So, so much. But one thing that Jason and Dick both love that Tim just can’t wrap his head around: horror movies.

They’re watching one right now, the third of a trilogy Jay and Dick love, and Tim is sandwiched between them on the couch, feeling faintly ill.

Jay and Dick are the kind of people that get that something from a horror movie, the adrenaline or the enjoyment of their terror or whatever it is that hooks people. Tim isn’t and he gets nothing but is a sick feeling in his stomach and the impression that all the color has been sucked out of the world.

It isn’t the scenes themselves that get to him, because as terrible as it is to admit, he’s seen and experienced thing just as terrible, maybe worse, in his time as Robin. All of them have. Brutal serial killings, human trafficking tragedies, figurative and literal monsters left and right, not to mention the rogues. A run-in with Scarecrow’s fear toxin? That would make most horror movies seem like a pleasant summer picnic. Chasing and being chased by Killer Croc in the sewers in the dead of night? Monster B-flick gold. And the Joker? ‘Nough said.

No, for Tim it’s more about the way the scenes are presented - the cold, dark filters; the unnatural lighting; the haunting music and grisly sound effects. It turns a factually horrifying scene into an garish exaggeration, like a scene from one of his nightmares - you don’t fully believe its real, but it still strikes a chord deep in your psyche.

He can handle one movie. Easy to shake off. Maybe two, in the daytime. But tonight they watched three, using their one night off from patrol to stay up into the wee hours of the morning–as if they would ever think use that time to catch up on sleep or something.

Three-quarters of the way through the third movie, Jason notices Tim getting twitchy and asks if he’s okay.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just getting late. I keep nodding off and then every time someone screams, I jump awake again,” Tim tells them, playing it off with a laugh. Dick and Jason laugh with him.

“No problem, Babybird, we’re almost done. We’ll let you sleep in peace soon enough.”

“Did you mean 'rest in peace’, Jaybird?”

“Ugh, Dick, staaaahp.”

They laugh and kiss over Tim’s head, then come at him from both sides when he makes a disgruntled noise for being squished between them, showering him in kisses and noogies and awkward side hugs. The warm moment of affection between the three of them almost distracts Tim away from the grim mood affected by the movies. Almost.

When they settle down into bed an hour later, Tim snuggled between the two of them–all of Dick’s limbs wrapped around him and Jason drooling onto his shoulder–the sick feeling, mental and physical, doesn’t budge. Tim spends the rest of the night staring up at the dark ceiling, mind circling the imagery of the movie in endless spirals. He closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep when Dick gets up at 4:30 to pee, and again at 5:15 when Jay startles awake for a few seconds at the sound of a car alarm blaring down on the street. When they all get up at nine the next morning, neither Dick nor Jason seems to be the wiser to his deception.

Tim spends the next day exhausted, but makes up for it with a jam packed schedule–keeping busy always helps–and copious amounts of caffeine. That night he goes out for a quick patrol, then turns in early, hoping to make up for lost sleep.

He can’t. He’s still awake, his mind bombarding him with the images of a decapitated zombie child crawling toward a screaming young woman in the grey rain as “mama, mama” whistles in the wind; the sounds of a man sobbing as he clutches his dead partner in the snow–her womb torn out messily–and the smells he imagines a child clinging to their mother’s green, long-dismembered corpse would experience when Dick comes in at three AM. He’s still awake–and pretending he’s not with every Bat-trained skill he has–when Jay comes in a half hour later.

He’s seen just as bad in real life–and how messed up is it to say that?–but here the imagery is also accompanied by such a deep sense of sorrow, lasting pain and depression. Lives, minds, souls ruined. He’s still wide awake as dawn begins to light the sky. He extricates himself from their sleepy dogpile while Jason and Dick are still in the deepest stages of sleep and heads down to the gym to get a few hours of training in to pump him up for another exhausting day.

He struggles through day two, barely functioning as he makes his way into night three. He volunteers to stay on comms for the night, citing some bullshit excuse about a sore ankle he wants to rest to keep Dick from worrying and Jason from asking too many questions. He stays up late, working on case docs, hoping that if works himself to utter exhaustion that he can just pass out at dawn. He tells Dick and Jay he’s doing it to make up for not going out, and they seem worried, but he promises he’ll rest in the morning.

He doesn’t. Daylight doesn’t bring any relief from the wild thoughts and images that pop into his head any time he tries to quiet his mind. He pretends to nap on the couch until Jay and Dick leave, then goes into Wayne Enterprises and works late.

He goes out as Red Robin that night–night four–but turns in early after he gets a call from Alfred asking about unexpected telemetry from the vitals sensors in his suit–racing pulse, high rate of respiration. He excuses himself with claims that he’s in a bit of pain from his “sore” ankle. It’s a lie. His body and his mind are hitting their natural limits, his anxiety levels increasing and his organs screaming for rest. He meditates for the rest of the night, feeling somewhat refreshed the next morning.

Day four is like a bizarre dream, time zooming past or crawling by in fits and starts. He loses his appetite and even coffee starts to lose its appeal, the smell of it making his stomach twist. By five PM swears the shadows at the corner of his office have started to ooze toward him and he jumps at every little sound.

That night he skips dinner, disables all telemetry in his suit, and goes out for solo patrol. Just a loop around his territory. Then he’ll stop, take a sedative, and pass out for twelve to fifteen hours. Sweat it out as the drugs force him to stay under no matter what nightmares may come.

His patrol is patchy, if that makes any sense. Some moments he is clearly aware of where he is and what he’s doing, and then there are whole stretches of time that are total blanks. Halfway through his loop he gets sidetracked to a neighborhood outside his scope after he hears about of a drug deal going down outside a middle school.

He handles the would-be dealers–high schoolers dealing to middle schoolers who were lucky Red Robin caught wind of the deal before Red Hood did–then retires to the roof of the school for a breather. He sits down between two AC units and lets his head fall back against one for a few moments…

—

Tim slowly comes awake to the sounds of quiet conversation around him, gentle fingers combing through his hair, and a soft bed under him. He blinks his eyes open, squinting in confusion at the overhead light of the room he shares with Jay and Dick. Who left the lights on? Wait, why is he in his uniform? Did he forget to take it off before he dropped into bed?

“Dick. Dick, shut up a second, I think he’s coming around. Tim? Timmy? You with us?”

Tim turns his head to the side with a grimace. His neck is sore like he slept hanging off the side of the bed half the night.

“J-Jay?”

The hand leaves his hair and Tim turns his head minutely to see Dick sitting beside him on the bed, running both hands through his own hair, expression a blend of relief and worry.

“Holy cow, Tim, you scared the crap out of us. What were you thinking?” Dick demands of him. Tim blinks, confused.

“Whoa, whoa, ease up, Dickie, give 'im a sec to reboot, 'kay?” Jason chides, settling down near Tim’s bare feet–-oh, someone removed his boots, gauntlets, belts and cape and unzipped the collar of his suit. He rubs a soothing circles into the arch of one foot. “Hey, Timbo, you know where you are?”

“The 'partment,” Tim answers slowly. Did he hit his head on patrol?

“Yeah. You know what time it is?”

Tim blinks. It’s dark outside, so he knows it’s nighttime, but when he tries to think back to the last time he remembers he can’t get it straight. He was on patrol? Which patrol? He can’t remember. Did he get drugged? Shot?

“No? You know what day it is?”

He doesn’t. He starts to panic. What happened to him? He tries to sit up.

“Easy, Tim. Just rest for a minute,” Dick soothes, easing him back down with a hand on one shoulder. Tim flops back, heart racing. He’s missing something, something important, something awful he should remember.

“Breathe, Tim, don’t force yourself,” Jason chides. Dick’s hand returns to his hair and Jason lies down beside him, now rubbing circles into his exposed hand.

Dark spots cloud his vision and he starts to shake. Why can’t he remember? Now that he’s more aware, why do his joints ache and his limbs feel like they’ve been filled with cement? Why does he feel so cold? Is he dying? Is he dead?

“Jay, he’s hyperventilating.”

“No shit. Timmy? Tim? Breathe with me okay?”

“Breathe with Jason, Tim. Nice and slow.”

“Hey, fo– on m–”

“Ti–”

Their voices fade out along with the sensation of fingers feeling for a pulse and hands pulling off his suit. Darkness fills his vision until there is nothing left but the darkness.

—

When Tim comes around again it’s with a hiss for the bright overhead lighting of the Batcave’s med bay. You’d think with all their resources they’d invest in a light dimmer at some point.

“There he is. Rise and shine, Timbo,” Jason’s voice calls from his left. He groans and tries to squeeze his eyes closed.

“Ah, ah, ah, no falling asleep again until you endure the wrath of Big Bird and Alfie. They’ve got a lot of choice words for you, Babybird,” Jason chides, squeezing his hand. Tim tries to curl onto his opposite side but freezes with a gasp when a sharp twinge in his right arm informs him of the IV inserted there. The numb, slightly clammy feeling on his right index finger speaks to the presence of a pulse oximeter clip. Did he get injured, he wonders?

No. Bit by bit, Tim’s head clears and snatches of memory come back to him. He’d been on patrol. He stopped to rest. No dinner. No sleep. Wayne Enterprises. Disabled telemetry. Solo patrol. The teenaged dealers. A middle school.

Disabled telemetry. Shit.

“H-how long was I out?” Tim asks, croaking around the dryness of his throat. He turns back to Jay in time to see Alfred and Dick walk into med bay, expressions stern and relieved in equal measure. Jason snorts at whatever expression Tim makes in response to theirs.

“About a day, in and out of it,” Alfred replies smoothly, voice cool and unamused as he raises the back of the bed to help Tim sit up. “You gave Masters Dick and Jason quite the fright, not to mention myself, going out alone and under the radar the way you did. I thought we had taught you better than that, Master Timothy.”

Tim shrinks in on himself. You know you’re in trouble with Alfred when he calls you by your full first name. “Sorry, Alfred. Dick. Jason. I haven’t really been myself the past couple of days,” he admits, thinking back on the past week. He cringes internally as he thinks about their last free day and all the stupid things he did in the resulting funk.

“I imagine you wouldn’t be, skipping meals until you passed out from exhaustion,” Alfred lectures sternly as he deftly removes the IV and pulse oximeter. Dick looks sad and disappointed. Jason looks unconvinced.

Tim shakes his head. “I wasn’t skipping meals - mostly - I just wasn’t sleeping very much.”

Dick raises his eyebrows. “Define 'very much’? Why weren’t you sleeping?”

“Uhhhh, well… not at all?” Tim replies shrugging with an apologetic grimace. Alfred shakes his head as he leaves med bay and Jason’s eyes blow wide. Dick makes a sound of indignation.

“Not at all?!” Jason echoes. “What the hell, Babybird? What were you thinking!”

Tim scrubs his hands over his face and deliberately ignores the question in favor of asking one of his own. “What happened? I remember stopping to rest on the roof of Parkview Middle and then briefly waking up back at the apartment.” He looks around the med bay then takes stock of himself. He feels fine now, but he vaguely remember feeling like he was dying the last time he was fully conscious. “Did I get hurt?”

Dick doesn’t look happy about the redirect, but shakes his head and takes a seat on the edge of the gurney. “Well, after me and Jay got home at four AM, realized you weren’t there, and found your suit was missing, we called Alfred and Babs to see if you’d been out that night.

"Alfred said he hadn’t heard from you, and neither had Babs, but she eventually tagged you in a couple of surveillance feeds along your route. We tried to call you on comms: nothing. Then Babs tried to find you on live surveillance: still nothing.” Dick’s expression is dark and his eyes drill holes into Tim.

“We were freakin’ out, Timmers,” Jason continues. “Like, did you get hurt? Did you get kidnapped? We tried to check your telemetry and got fuck all. No vitals, no location. Dickie here was nearly shittin’ himself thinking you’d gone and gotten yourself killed or somethin’”

Tim’s face heats up in shame.

“In the end we pulled out the nuclear option and activated your subdermal GPS beacon,” he explains, gesturing to the stretch of skin on Tim’s arm under which the small capsule resided, a measure they all–Bruce included–agreed to take in order to avoid situations just like this one.

“We found you on some random-ass roof four blocks off your route, passed the fuck out. When we tried to check on you, you nearly cleaned Dickie’s clock, kicked me in the cup–it still hurt, even with the cup, so thanks for that–then tried to throw yourself off the roof. After we got you to calm down and wake up a bit, you seemed to recognize us, understand where you were, and we escorted you home.

"Everything was fine until we got into the apartment, at which point you threw yourself across our bed, cowl up and belts on, and passed out again,” Jason explained, rolling his eyes at the ridiculousness of it. “You weren’t outwardly bleeding and your pupils reacted appropriately to light, so we thought you were just a little tired or whatever. When you woke up again, you were disoriented as fuck and freaking out. Then you went completely non-responsive and we freaked out. We brought you down here just to make sure you didn’t have a brain bleed or a punctured lung or something.

"A million scans and some bloodwork later and Alfie concluded you that probably hadn’t been taking care of yourself,” Jason concludes, pinning Tim with a severe look of his own. “And now we’re hearing from you that you haven’t been sleeping? Cough it up, Timbo. How long?”

Tim clears his throat and shifts his legs restlessly. “About five days.”

“Five days!” Dick exclaims, jumping up from the end of the gurney. He rounds to the other side, across from Jason. “Why?”

Tim shrugs and looks away. “I dunno, I just haven’t been able to fall asleep. I couldn’t shut my brain off.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you had insomnia?” Dick asks.

Tim shrugs again. “What would you be able to do about it?”

“Make sure you didn’t do something stupid like stay up all night filing reports or go on patrol with all your tracers turned off, probably,” Jason replies wryly. He stands up, bracketing Tim between himself and Dick. He narrows his eyes.

“You know, I can tell when you’re keeping something from us, Timbo. Spit it out. What’s been so heavy on your mind that it hasn’t let you get a wink of sleep for nearly a week?”

Tim tenses and curls in on himself subconsciously. “Nothing. It’s not important.”

Jason laughs mirthlessly and Dick frowns. “If it’s important enough for you to lose sleep over it, then it’s important to us,” Jason insists.

Tim mumbles under his breath, avoiding eye contact.

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” he mumbles a little louder.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you, Timbelina,” Jason belts loudly into his ear.

“It’s your damn horror, movies okay!? I couldn’t sleep after we marathoned that trilogy on our night off,” Tim shouts back, scooting down the bed and throwing off the sheet. He swings his legs over the side, stands up, and only sways a little as the room swims around him for a second.

“The movies? They scared you?” Dick asks uncertainly as he steadies Tim with hand around his upper arm.

Tim shakes him off. “No, they’re just depressing as fuck. We see enough horrible stuff in our line of work, so sue me if watching it presented in a way intended to be emotionally gripping as possible puts me in a bit of a funk.”

He moves for the doorway, pretending not to be embarrassed that his ass is hanging out of the back of his hospital gown, only to be stopped by Dick darting in front of him, closely followed by Jason. They’re both watching him with concern, worry, and a tinge of guilt. Tim deflates. This was exactly what he hoped to avoid.

“Babe. You never told us they bothered you,” Dick starts while Jason says, “A bit of a funk? It must really bother you if it’s keeping you up for days.” They look at each other, then Dick nods to Jason. Tim sighs.

“What’s really going on, Tim,” Jason asks.

“That’s really all it is,” Tim replies, crossing his arms. “We watched the movies, I didn’t sleep that night and then it kind of snowballed from there, the sleep dep feeding the funk.” Looking at it objectively, after a good night’s rest, he can admit that the situation never should have escalated past that first morning; he should have taken a sedative and a day off right then and there to avoid falling deep into the funk.

“Is it really that bad? Why didn’t you tell us you don’t like scary movies?” Dick asked, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. Tim groaned.

“It’s really not a big deal. Not usually. They don’t scare me, they just kind of… I dunno, haunt my thoughts for a while afterwards. You know how it goes; I overthink everything,” Tim admits, waving a hand dismissively. “And I didn’t tell you guys because I didn’t feel like being made fun of for being 'too scared to watch a scary movie’. Who would have believed me if I said they’re not scary, just emotionally disturbing?”

Dick opens his mouth like he’s going to object but Tim cuts him off. “No, don’t even try to tell me that you would. Look at Jay, at least he’s honest with himself.”

They both look at Jason, who is nodding along, looking chagrined. “Yeah, I’ll admit, if you’d said something, I probably would have teased you about it.” He gives Tim a look Tim can’t decipher. “You’re an odd one, Timbo, but there’s no arguing with the results. If it bothers you, it bothers you, whether it’s frightening or not. But if it bothers you so much, then why watch with us? You could have just told us you don’t like horror and gone to bed.”

“And not spend time with you guys?” Tim asks incredulously. “We get one night off together every two weeks, and you think I would just give that up and go to bed alone?” He shakes his head at them. “I put up with it because I wanted to spend time with you guys and I wanted you guys to do something you both enjoy. I didn’t want to be the wet blanket in the room that put a stop to that.”

Both Jason and Dick’s faces fall on hearing this, and in that moment Tim is done with this conversation. He tries to skirt around them, but Jason blocks his path.

“Move, Jason, I need to pee.” He does. IVs are great and all, but sleeping for twenty four hours through one, maybe two liters of fluids equals one very full bladder. He’s grateful Alfred didn’t stoop to inserting a urinary catheter just to punish him, even if it would have done him a favor in this one thing.

Jason crosses his arms obstinately.

“I will pee on you,” Tim warns.

Dick steps between them and places his hands on Tim’s shoulders. “Tim, it means a lot to us that you would put our enjoyment above your own, but it hurts a little to think you don’t trust us enough to let us know when something’s bothering you.”

“What Dick said,” Jason seconds. “Yeah, we’d probably tease you at first, but eventually we’d get that horror makes you uncomfortable and picked something else to do. We care about you just as much you care about us, ya know?”

Tim looks away, uncomfortable.

“Look, we’re not trying to blame the victim here, we’re just saying give us a chance next time, okay?” Jason clarifies, tone softening. “We deserve the opportunity to prove ourselves assholes or saints for ourselves, yeah?”

Tim snorts softly. “Yeah.”

They smile and Dick draws them both into a hug, sandwiching Tim between them. “Good. And we’re sorry, Tim. We should have noticed you weren’t having a good time and asked.”

“You did,” Tim admits, “But I told you I was 'just tired’ and you guys bought it. That’s on me.”

“Yeah, well, dealing with you–the guy who lies to Batman–we should have pressed the issue no matter how convincing you were,” Jason replies, pressing his face into Tim’s hair. “And you shouldn’t feel like we won’t take you seriously. That’s mostly my bad for teasing you so much.”

Tim presses his face into Jason’s chest and shakes his head. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Dick says softly at his back. “But it will be.” Tim feels Jason smile into his hair and nod. He lets them hold him tight and close for a long minute.

“And no more horror movies around Timmy!” Dick exclaims belatedly, making Tim and Jason laugh.

“Definitely. We’ll save it for our solo dates, right Dickie?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Okay, this was nice and all,” Tim begins, squirming a little, “but I wasn’t kidding earlier; someone needs to let go now or I’m going to pee on Jason.”

“Eh, I’m fine with that,” Dick replies lightly.

“Dick, you dick!” Jason shoots back, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Stop making me laugh! I’m really going to pee on him!”

#my writing #christmasriverswrites #jaydicktim #spooktober 2019 #saf's spooktober prompts #polyamory #ot3 #my writing in the raw: barely edited #organic and covered in typos #does spellcheck count as editing?#tw brief mentions of gore #tw horror #tw sleep deprivation #tw panic attack #this is how I personally feel about horror movies; they don't scare me but i go into this horrible headspace and sometimes i just can't stop #thinking about how awful life can be sometimes #how messed up some psychological states get #it's not just horror; i don't like to watch a lot of fiction and non-fiction crime shows for the same reasons--i just overthink *everything*#maybe it's just me and i'm a weirdo but for the sake of fiction tim will be weird with me on this #this is four THOUSAND words. when. where. why. HOW. did that happen. it was supposed to be 800 max. *facepalm*#i betcha with the ''keep reading'' i'll get like 8 notes max #prove me wrong tumblr

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somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds · 6 years ago

Note

So. *cracks knuckes* I hear you have an au idea for Gary Green. Could you maybe talk about it a bit more? *crosses fingers* (im terrible im sorry)

*crackles knuckles* settle down around the fire, I’ll spin a half-formed tale that is slowly growing into a real fic. Inspiration comes from my lovely Discord server and @agentmarymargaretskitz who encourages all my cracky AUs.

So John, Ava, and Gary are out on a mission for the Legends. This is after the whole ‘good and evil’ talk (sidenote: forever bitter that that was not an ONSCREEN conversation but i digress) so the tension between the two is a real ‘will they/won’t they’ mixed with the sexual tension as always. Ava doesn’t want to be here, but somebody needs to be a responsible adult.

Eventually, after *insert bullshit magic yadadada* Gary turns a corner and BAM.

“Gary, what happened?” Ava yells after hearing him yelp.“I - think I ran into a wall,” Gary calls back, rubbing his forehead, touching over his temples because damn, that’s what the pain feels like but - there’s no wall. There’s nothing. It just feels like a migraine.

He goes home that night and the headache has spread to a neck and back ache, as well. Oh well, probably pulled a muscle, it’ll be fine.

For some reason, he eats five eggs (scrambled a little raw) for breakfast and the ache is dull, humming under his skin. His mouth actually waters as Mona passes by his work desk with food for the creatures, he’s - starving.

Nate doesn’t question his eating of an entire can of chicken liver pate, plain, at his desk.

The headache’s back, and it’s worse.

It’s soothed slightly by a rare steak he makes at home, but now it feels like he’s buzzing with energy as he lays drained on the couch.

“I - think I have an iron deficiency,” he murmurs to nobody, as per usual.

There’s a purr from the back of his brain: No.

It’s all he remembers before falling asleep.

For the next three days, he’s basically been eating nothing but protein yet he’s never felt more tired in his life. Nobody says a thing to him.“Sorry Green, got the last 8 O’Clock,” McNeil laughs at him, the treacherous Keriug already filling up his cup. Gary rolls his eyes, but he finds he can’t roll them back forward again as words escape his mouth“You touch my coffee again, I’ll rip your lungs out and feed them to you.”

His eyes suddenly roll forward again and he blinks a few times before giving a high, awkward laugh. at McNeil’s startled expression.

“You - you know me, not the same without morning coffee!” He takes whatever’s in the communal pot and sits back down at his desk, shaking his head and blinking a few more times. He gets through until lunch until he - suddenly blacks out.

He wakes up again in the afternoon, in the empty bathroom on the -3rd floor that nobody ever uses, covered in blood. That’s enough to make him panic, never mind the three empty pint containers of blood, a fourth in his hand and all over his mouth.

He stumbles out of the stall and washes his face in the sink, and when he looks up his reflection is smirking with coal-black eyes. He rubs his eyes and turns away, that purring voice pressing behind his temple.

Hello.

“Uh, hi. What - who are you?” he asks, because damn his ingrained politeness.A friend.“I - I don't believe that.”Gary. All I want to do is help you.“...could you - not, do that,” Gary muttered, cleaning the messy stall.It’s taken longer to gain any control over you than normal humans.“...sorry?”Pure souls are hard to break.“I’m - not - a virgin, if that’s what you mean.”Oh, I know. You think about it a lot.“Don’t - don’t read my thoughts!”Too late. You’re tired, let me - drive. Close your eyes, let me-“No! Shut up!” Gary says too loudly out loud as he walks into the break room. He grabs a danish and scurries back out of there to avoid confrontation.

And instead of that, he walks right into John Constantine, looking ruggedly handsome (like always dammit Gary shut up) while he’s got crumbs all over his lips and dark circles under his eyes.“Hey, Squire,” John smirks with a cigarette between his lips even if the building’s nonsmoking. Gary opens his mouth to respond back when that awful migraine, like claws sinking into his frontal lobe, returns and he winces.“Sorry, migraines,” he explains in a rush, heading back to his desk without another look his way.

It’s too much to deal with, he opens the door to Ava’s office, knowing he looks like a wreak and she’s - so annoyed to see him, it’s so obvious, and he tries to explain, Ava, Boss-Lady, I’m - I’m sick, I’m sick, something’s wrong - “something’s wr-”“Gary, just go home,” Ava says curtly, going back to her meeting with the Legends. He lets the door close and heads on the walk home alone, only his feet carry him somewhere else.

When he’s finally back in his apartment, eating through two packages of raw lamb, the voice comes back.They’re mean to you.“I - they’re my friends, I was - I was being annoying.”Friends shouldn’t do that.“You - what do you know about friends? Where - where are you from?”Hell.“Okay. Okay, that’s normal. Why - why are you inside of me? Oh, no, that came out wrong.”Reasons you can’t know, not yet.“...cool. Look - look, don’t bother possessing me. Look at me, I’m worthless. I trip over my own carpet four times a week sober.”I...can help.“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”People deserve it.“I don’t need to hurt them, though.”Humans are dumb, Gary. All of them. You, not so much.

It’s weird, to have this conversation with essentially your own brain as you speak out loud and then have words and voice that aren’t yours come out of your mouth.

Give me a chance to take control. I’ll give you what you want, then you can let me what what I want, the demon says. (Gary’s calling him Joe, because his vocal chords cannot replicate the name that swirled in his brain)

“...you get one day to convince me,” Gary states firmly, and no sooner do those words leave his lips then his vision goes black.

When he wakes up, it’s to everything he’s ever wanted in the world. The A/C’s never on the fritz, the neighbors are quiet, the shower always has hot water, the apartment’s bigger, and there’s - a blonde warlock in his bed that kisses him before Gary has to leave for work.

He has his OWN office at work, his own Keriug, he’s employee of the month and number one agent, all the bells and whistles and everyone is actually glad to see him and greet him, even Ava, even all the Legends. Everything is so goddamn perfect, especially a visit from said blonde warlock in the afternoon, in his lap in his own office, smiling that rare real smile.

And then John Constantine says to him, Gary Green: “I love you.”

Gary sits straight up from where’s he’s been out cold on his couch, gasping for air and he doesn’t know why, he just knows his heart is racing because -

What’s wrong? It’s what you want.“It’s not,” Gary whispers, lying but not lying, picking up his phone. “I don’t want lies. I don’t want to be lied to.”

It’s 6 o’clock. He’s been MIA an entire day and a half. There’s a single message, from Ava, at two in the afternoon: Gary, why aren’t you at work? You need to call if you can’t come in, remember.

That’s it. Nothing about his well-being, his whereabouts, about him.

Gary throws his phone into the opposite armchair and cries into a stupid throw pillow he got as a stupid giveaway at an office supply store. Not even a housewarming pillow.

There’s a hesitant warmth, just under the degree of burning, under the skin of his aching shoulder, spreading down his back.I want to help.

“How?”Whatever you need.

The knock at the door and the British accented “Gary, love, you awake?” sends Gary scrambling to shove bloody wrappers under the couch, quickly rinsing his face off before answering the door even as the voice hisses Noooot Constantine. “Hush,” Gary whispers harshly before throwing the door open.

John takes in Gary’s red-tinged eyes, dark circles beneath those, the general paleness and exhaustion. “Weren’t around today.”

“Sick,” Gary offers quickly. “Think - I have a bug. I’m fine, don’t - your’e not worried, duh, just - thanks, thank you for - checking in.”

There’s something - wrong, John can’t put a finger on it, but just nods in agreement. There’s too long a pause before the goodbyes, enough time for an embrace or a kiss, but neither offers either option. The door just closes between them afterwards.

I said humans were dumb, Gary.“Not - not all humans.”You aren’t. John Constantine, of all the humans, is the dumbest.“Hey, no, don’t say that stuff.”Yes, because you want to fuck-“Do - NO, that’s not why-”I can read your thoughts. Humans usually don’t break out of those fantasies like what I put you in. Why did you?“...it’s not real.”The warmth wraps around his arm, if that were possible. This is.Gary actually smiled. “...yeah, it is.”

Apparently, it’s easy to get used to possession, so long as your demon stays well-fed. Bloodlust can be avoided as long as there is actual blood to consume. Gary knows this butchery too well by the end of the first two weeks.

We should kill him, the demon tells Gary when McNeil steals the last K-cup again.“No, I said we wouldn’t do that....unless we had a reason.” Truth be told, he’s probably on borrowed time before he finally kills, he knows that. So far, the blood’s working to keep him satisfied.You hate him. That’s a reason. Or the man downstairs for being loud. We can rip his lungs out.“Not gonna happen.”

Ava’s in a very important business meeting with Mr. Heywood, and Gary’s leading the Legends to the waiting room outside her office to wait it out.

“So what’s this about?” Sara asks him.“Boss lady won’t let me say, you know that.”“Mick.”Oh god, Gary thinks before his vision tints into black tones.Before Mick can grab Gary, all he sees are Gary’s eyes visibly turning solid black for a brief moment before he has one hand in Mick’s collar and holding him up against the wall and snarling, “I said to WAIT.”

Then he shifts back and looks terrified for a second, dropping Mick down and offering sheepishly with a laugh, “I - sorry, no coffee. Did I mention I’ve been working out? Gotta run!”

He’s out of there, “What was that?”He was bothering you.“How did I do that?”I did it.

Then Gary’s flicking his hand to the right and McNeil’s chair spins out of control and he falls out of it onto the linoleum, precious coffee spilling everywhere.

Gary smiles despite himself. “We can’t do this a lot.”But we can do it?“...we can do it sometimes.”

For more, stay tuned for the upcoming fic!!!! Whew, I hope you like this NOVELLA that I answered you with!

#gary green #legends of tomorrow #constangreen #this is going to be a long fic #conxjob

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reesewestonarchive · 6 years ago

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chapter nine / rem belongs to @forlornraven / masterpost / mature content

Nakoa wakes to darkness. He finds out easily that he’s in a vehicle; the rumble of tires beneath him, the loud, high-pitched squeal of rubber on asphalt.

The hard, unforgiving feel of metal against his shoulder. He opens his eyes, but it makes no difference. He sees slivers of light, but nothing really. Nakoa blinks, once, twice, and, when he turns over, finds himself grateful for the lack of light, because just the slivers of daylight peeking through are enough to send spikes through his brain.

“You awake?” He jolts at the sound of a voice, relaxes when Rem adds, “Hey, it’s just me.” His words are near slurring, though. Nakoa spins his head to look for him, nervous, worried, but it’s impossible to see in the darkness. “I—” Rem huffs a frustrated breath. “Can’t see a fucking thing—where are you?”

One of Rem’s boots finds Nakoa’s ribs. He mutters an apology, then says, “Hang on—” before he reaches down, his hand skirting along Nakoa’s back until he reaches Nakoa’s hands, clasped behind him. “Hold still.”

The ties release after just a second, and when Nakoa pulls them up, he asks, “How the fuck did you get out of them?” The plastic rubbed his wrists raw, even as short as they were on.

He can hear Rem’s grin in his voice when he speaks, though, and his presence makes the dark, unforgiving trcuk a little less foreboding. “You think I leave the motel without a knife?”

Nakoa would laugh, if he could. Instead, he reaches a hand out, trying to find Rem in the dark. “Where—” he says, before he makes contact with Rem’s knee. Relief settles in his stomach, and he reaches out for Rem’s hand, squeezes it. Feels better already when Rem squeezes back.

“You okay?” Nakoa asks. “That looked.” Bad. Terrible. Nakoa sees it no matter where he looks, Rem lying on the asphalt like that.

“Mm.” But his voice sounds far away. “Nakoa.”

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck?”

Nakoa should have known, knows he should have. That he should have said something to Rem, but… “My father’s—” The word tastes bitter on his tongue. “…in imports.”

“Drugs,” Rem says, immediately. “Fucking hell, Nakoa.”

It’s how Nakoa got started. It’s why he kept going with them. Michael’s into more than just weed, though, and therein lies the problem. That Nakoa knows. Michael had beat him, when Nakoa found out, and has since used his strength to his advantage. Try as he might, Nakoa can only throw a punch if he’s catching someone off guard, if they can fight worse than he can.

Michael doesn’t fit the bill, and he’s always carrying.

“I didn’t have a choice!” Nakoa says. “And I thought. Maybe, if I wasn’t there… why would he waste a bunch of bullshit on me? Men, resources.” Why would he follow Nakoa across the country? Nakoa, of all people?

“You stole from him,” Rem says. His voice comes out flat. “Nakoa.”

“You don’t get to play like you wouldn’t have done the same fucking thing,” he says, tone sharp. He pulls back from Rem, smells blood on his hands as he wipes them down his face. “How often have you stolen whiskey?”

“It’s legal! You wanna compare that to coke?”

Exhausted, suddenly, Nakoa says, “I really need you to not fucking judge me. I stopped, okay? He didn’t notice, and even if he had, what was he gonna do?” Michael hates Nakoa; always has. A disappointment, and that isn’t even considering Rem. That’s not considering the fact that Michael knows, and always has, that Nakoa beds men as often as he does women. It’s been like this since Nakoa was born, his father distant for work, and Nakoa eager for his approval and stumbling on his work at thirteen.

“He couldn’t do anything about it then,” Nakoa says. “But now what’s stopping him? His kid went missing. No one’s gonna care if I end up in a ditch.”

“Don’t fucking joke about that.”

Nakoa shuts his mouth, though. Taps his fingers on the metal on the floor. He says, “I should have told you.” He wants to apologize; can’t.

Wishes that he could just… touch Rem. No expectation. Find comfort in his touch.

He holds his hands to himself, and neither of them speak.

Eventually, the van slows to a stop, and doesn’t start again. Rem gets to his feet, says, “I got this.” Nakoa hears the knife unlatching in his hand. “Stay back.”

“Don’t being a knife to a gun fight, you—” Nakoa sighs. “Just—get behind me.”

“I’m not going to let you—”

“He’s my father,” Nakoa says, his voice cracking. “Let me deal with him.” He thinks about clocking Rem on the head again, but if he got knocked out that bad, he might already have a concussion.

Nakoa doesn’t say, “I want you safe.” He doesn’t say that it means more to him that Rem is okay, that Rem can go home. Maybe Rem thinks he’s worthless, but he’s Nakoa’s entire world.

The door slides up, and Nakoa blinks against the blinding light. Rem stands behind him, body heat warming Nakoa’s back. Michael’s behind his men, chatting on the phone, but Nakoa doesn’t move, not until Michael says, his voice almost bored, like he’s not still devising a plan. “Come join me for dinner.”

Nakoa blinks. “Pretty fucking dramatic entrance for dinner.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “You could show a little respect.”

Already disappointing his father, and they’ve been reunited for a matter of minutes. Nakoa holds his gaze and says, “You wanna kill me, go ahead.”

Behind him, he hears Rem make a small, distressed noise. “Nakoa—”

But Nakoa’s tired of living in this hole, in his father’s shadow, too afraid to move beyond Michael and his wants. Too afraid Michael might follow through on his threats.

“Just come. We’ll discuss what I plan to do with you at dinner.” Michael sighs, rubbing his forehead. “I keep forgetting about the carry on.” Nakoa catches his attention shifting to Rem, wishes it wouldn’t. “Hm. Looks like he’s the reason they’re free. Someone remind me we need handcuffs.”

When Nakoa doesn’t go forward, Michael sighs, says, “Someone grab him, please. Leave the other.” He sighs. “And tie him up this time?”

One of the men hauls Nakoa from the truck, by the hair, the shoulder. Nakoa swears, grips at the guy’s wrist and tries to walk with him, can’t. Holds tight and tries to lessen the pressure on his hair, anyway.

He watches as Rem crawls from the truck, eyes wide with fear, brandishing his knife. In comparison to giant men with handguns, he looks like a small, terrified child. Nakoa knows better than to call out his name, so he doesn’t.

His chest aches, and a half-strangled, “Rem—” escapes from his throat, just as the man dragging him pulls him into a building. Before the door shuts, Nakoa catches sight of Rem lashing out, the sound of a gunshot, then… Nothing.

Nakoa finds himself dropped at Michael’s feet, scalp burning, Michael staring down at him with something akin to disinterest. “I wish things could have gone differently for you, Nakoa.”

This is nothing like the Michael Nakoa remembers. This man is… different. Distressingly calm, quiet.

Nakoa prefers him screaming. Calm breeds terror in Nakoa’s chest, and he doesn’t care for the way it burrows in and refuses to leave.

“Up.” It’s not a request. “Dinner.”

Tossing a scowl back at the man who’d dragged him, Nakoa rubs his wrists, follows Michael through the warehouse.. He needs to stay around until he can get back to Rem, anyway. After that… who cares? Michael can do whatever he wants with Nakoa, as long as Rem gets out of this safely.

Michael leads him into another room to a table sitting alone, like one in the movies, covered with a tablecloth, a single lightbulb illuminating the table and nothing more.

With a swallow, Nakoa takes his seat, still rubbing his wrists. Michael sits in the other chair, and, neat as can fucking be, he undoes his napkin and lays it across his lap.

“Nakoa,” Michael says, and now he sounds more like himself, like the Michael Nakoa remembers. “You are a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“So the pleasant, calm druglord, that’s just for your employees. But your son, all bets are off.”

Michael’s gaze is sharp, piercing, and Nakoa wishes he’d kept his mouth shut. “Ungrateful. You know,” he says, already lifting the lid from his dinner, “you really don’t understand the sacrifices I’ve made for you. The resources I’ve wasted finding you.”

As if Nakoa asked for it. As if he gives a shit about whether Michael goes broke. As if he cares, for half a second, what Michael loses. He sits back, crosses his arms. Waits.

“I can see you’re going to be difficult, so let me lay this out for you.” He pops a bite of dinner—steak, because of course it is—into his mouth, and chews. Slow. Nakoa knows the tactic well, terrify them with their own imagination. “You’ll come home with me.”

“Over my—”

“—and we can leave your friend here to fend for himself.”

“Next.”

Eyebrow raised, Michael cuts back into his steak. “I could just as easily kill your friend, you know. He hardly seems like a man someone will miss.” At Nakoa’s expression, Michael laughs. “Don’t tell me you think—” He shakes his head. “You’re a fool, Nakoa.”

Better a fool than a prick, Nakoa thinks, but he doesn’t say so. Michael married a gentle woman, one he can scare into submission, and he thinks Nakoa’s life choices are worth judging. “Next option,” he says, through gritted teeth, staring hard at the table, at the knife marks in the wood. Imagines what it might be like to see those on his skin, instead. If he’d even life through it.

“I could kill the both of you. You’ve already been missing for how long? None of the authorities would think twice about a couple of stupid, runaway queer boys ending up dead. Two of them…” He clicks his tongue. “Well. Is that even a tragedy worth the news cycle?”

And Michael wonders why he ran away. Nakoa lifts his gaze, reluctant, up towards Michael’s face, hates the giddy expression on his father’s face. He’s a bastard, and Nakoa knows he’s always enjoyed his work a little too much, but he’d hoped maybe, underneath it all, there was something that made him human. Now he’s not so sure.

“Easiest way to tie up loose ends, don’t you agree?”

Nakoa wants to tell him to fuck off, but Michael won't hesitate to cut him with the knife on his plate. Never has before. Never hesitates, once he makes his mind up. “Why the holdup?” Nakoa asks, but his voice shakes. “Sounds like you got it all figured out. Why not just kill me now?”

He’s losing his patience, Michael. The joy drains from his expression and he returns to his dinner, almost bored. “Unfortunately, I still think there might be some use in you. I could use you to make an example. I think using you as a living example carries more weight, don’t you?”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

Pointing a fork to Nakoa’s plate, Michael says, “Eat. It’s the last time you’ll get the opportunity in a while.”

“What about Rem?” Nakoa does his best to hold his voice steady, to keep Michael from making any more shitty comments, but it still comes out wrong.

“I think I’ll be doing the world a favor, taking him out.” He reaches for his drink, then sighs. “Nakoa, please. If you don’t eat, I’ll be forced to take other measures.” Like what, Nakoa wonders, but doesn’t ask. Sighing, Michael sets his fork down and says, “Nakoa. It’s in your best interest to work with me.”

“Too fucking bad.”

“I can make your life a living hell, you know.”

“You already did. What can you do to make it worse?”

Michael raises an eyebrow, says, “You think you’re in love with the man outside. Not sure where you got that, but fine, I’ll play along. You’re right in considering yourself worthless, so I understand I can’t use you against yourself.” With a cock of his head, Michael leans back in his seat. “I might be able to use him yet. Suppose I better put in the call to keep him in one piece after all.” He pulls a walkie talkie out of his shirt pocket and switches it on. “Hold my previous order,” Michael says, glaring at Michael. “Plans have changed. We’re going to have a little fun.”

#my writing #road to nowhere au

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crashdevlin · 6 years ago

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New Romantics-3: Blame and Blood

New Romantics Masterlist

Author’s Note: This is a multi-chapter sequel to Wildest Dreams

Summary: Dean told y/n that she’d pick up the machete and rock salt again, but he’s surprised to see her at Harvelle’s Roadhouse less than a year later. She’s nervous to tell him and Sam the catalyst for her to start hunting again.

Pairing(s): Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader x Dean (no wincest), surprise! x Reader (no actual smut here, just sexual aggressiveness)

Word Count: 4397

Story Warnings: Smut, 18+ HERE BE SEX, DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!, anal sex, oral sex (fem and male receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, bloodplay, canon-appropriate character deaths, manipulation, BoyKing!Sam and Intended Queen!Reader!

Chapter Warnings: Alcohol as a crutch, depression, self-blame, Dean blaming reader for shit, BoyKing!Sam, manipulation, demon blood, being high on demon blood...

Bobby's been calling me for days, leaving voicemails about the end of the world, but I can't answer. I can't return the calls. I can't prepare for the end because I can't stop seeing Dean in my head sobbing over Sam's lifeless body. I can't stop hearing her-fault in my head. I've crawled into a bottle... and another... and another. I've been sprawled out on this motel bed for two days, a steadily growing pile of empties on the floor.

I'm blacked out when Bobby shows up, picks my lock and lets himself into my motel room. He picks me up and drops me in the bathtub, turns the shower on to spray cold water across me. I moan and try to escape the cold, but Bobby holds me down with a hand on my collar. "You need to sober up, girl. You missed some important shit while you were in the bottom of those bottles, ignorin' my calls."

"Bobby, no. Go 'way."

"I ain't here for your self-pitying bullshit, kid. Hundreds of demons escaped a hell's gate and you've been here-"

"I got Sam killed!" I exclaim, grabbing Bobby's hand and trying to pry his fingers off of my shirt.

"And Dean brought him back!"

My eyes widen at that, and I sit up. "He didn't do what John did. Tell me he didn't do what John did!" Bobby just looks away from me and I scramble to get out of the tub. The motion makes me nauseated, and I scrabble along the tile floor to eject whiskey into the toilet bowl. Bobby pulls my hair out of my face and rubs my back. "How long?" I groan, the sound bouncing off of the porcelain.

"A year. A year to get him out of it, girl. A year to fix the mess the yellow eyed demon made." Bobby stands and heads into the main room, tossing a towel and a new set of clothes from my duffel. "We need you, sweetheart. We need you sober and not drowning in guilt. It wasn't yer fault."

"Sam wouldn't've left. I tried to get him to... he wanted to save them, and they killed him an' I wasn' 'ere."

Bobby sighed, heavily, as I pulled myself up from the bathroom floor, pulling on the sink counter. "That ain't important. What's important is fighting the army the demon brought forth." I look up into the old man's tired eyes and take a deep breath. "Don't matter if you think they want you there, y/n. We need you there. Ash is gone. We need yer brains."

I nod. "Let me get a real shower. I'll be out in a few." He squeezes my shoulder and walks out of the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I drink a bit of the dog that bit me and I start combing through newspapers, looking for signs of the hundreds of demons Bobby says made it out through the hell's gate in Wyoming. "Sam an' Dean said you was... you were like Sam? That's why you were in Cold Oak?" Bobby asks, suddenly. I look down. "Why didn't you say somethin'?"

"Why didn't I tell a hunter that I could read minds and had been having visions of death and destruction and that I dropped my shotgun on a hunt and made it fly back to my hand with my mind? Is that a question you're actually asking me, Bobby?"

"I wasn't gonna hurt you, y/n! I've known you since you were knee-high."

"I know, but I didn't even tell my father when I started having visions, Bobby. I only told Sam because I... I had to." I shake my head. "It doesn't matter. It's gone. Since I've been sober... ish... Since I've been awake, I've noticed it's gone. I can't hear you. It's over."

"That's over, but the rest ain't." Bobby says, pulling his laptop up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We find a swarm of cicadas and some crop death in Lincoln, Nebraska and load up in his old Chevelle. Bobby calls Sam from the road, putting the phone on speaker so I can talk, too, even though he knows I won't. "Hey, Sam."

"Hey, Bobby." Sam responds.

"What'cha doin'?"

"Oh, same old, same old."

"You buried in that book again?" It's the same book Sam's apparently been looking at for a week. "Sam, you wanna break Dean free of that deal, you ain't gonna find the answer in no book."

"Then where, Bobby?"

"Kid, I wish I knew. So, where's your brother?"

"Polling the electorate." Sam answers.

"What?" Bobby doesn't get the Simpsons reference, but I do. Dean's fucking some skank in a dirty motel. A thrill of jealousy runs through me but I ignore it. I have no right.

"Never mind." Sam dismisses.

"Well, you boys better pack it up. I think we finally found something."

"We?" Sam asked.

I want to shake my head, leave it as long as possible before the Winchesters know I'm involved, but I bite my tongue and Bobby sighs. "Y/n. I found her."

"Is she okay?" Sam asks, a worried tone on his words. "Where did she go after Cold Oak?"

Bobby gives me a look that says 'I told you you were overreacting, girl' and clears his throat. "She thought she got you killed, so she tried to drown herself in bourbon."

"What? She didn't get me killed. Bobby, it wasn't her-"

"Yeah, now she's blamin' herself for Dean makin' that deal, too."

"None of this woulda happened if I'd just listened to her, Bobby. She tried to get me to leave the others to their own devices, she tried to warn me about Ava back before Lily even turned up dead. None of this is her fault."

"Dean thinks it is." I say, finally.

"Y/n! What-"

"Before I ran, when he was... when he was holding you, I could hear it, feel it... he blames me, Sam, and he's not wrong."

"Yes, he is. He's very wrong. It's not your fault, y/n." I bite my lip. "If Dean still thinks that, he's wrong. All you did was get out. That's it. Jake stabbed me, and he only had that opportunity because I didn't kill him when I had the chance. All of it... all of it was the demon's fault."

I swallow and look down. "If I'd stayed, I could have helped."

"Or you could've got yourself killed, too. Look, we'll talk more when we get up together. What'd you find, and where?"

As Bobby runs down the information for Sam, I bite my thumbnail. I'm nervous about seeing them but happy that Sam at least doesn't blame me for his demise. We make it to the outskirts of Lincoln early the next morning and we quickly find the house which seems to be ground zero for the cicada plague. We don't go in, calling Sam to let him know where we are, and I hop up onto the back of the Chevelle to wait for the boys. "So, where's your daddy been, girl?" Bobby asks, trying to make small talk.

"He's been down in South America. There's some... Norte Chicoan artifact he's trying to track down. He didn't give me much in the way of details. He was trying to respect my... decision to stay out of the game."

Bobby looks down. "He know yer back in?"

I shake my head. "What would I say, Bobby? 'I started having visions and doing weird shit with my mind so I got back into hunting to prove to a demon that I wasn't gonna play his game?' No. No, I don't think that'd fly. Just keep... doing what I'm doing."

There's a moment of silence. "Ain't my business, but you might wanna call 'im. Since ya almost died in Cold Oak and yer back huntin' puttin' yer life in danger... might be a good thing fer a dad to know."

I sigh. Calling Dad is about as high on my list as an ice pick lobotomy. Fortunately, we don't have to keep talking, because the familiar roar of Dean Winchester's Impala engine pulls our attention to the end of the driveway. The Winchester boys get out of the car, Dean chewing on a burger. His eyes jump to mine, then pointedly look away. Sam wraps his arms around me and I melt, wrapping my arms around his chest. "Sam, I'm so sorry." I whisper, just loud enough for Sam to hear me.

"It's not your fault." He whispers.

I pull back and sigh, loudly, unable to stop it. "I wish I could still read your mind. I could use some of those complimentary thoughts."

Sam kisses my forehead. "I'll tell you all about what I'm thinking later, okay?" I nod. He turns to Bobby, hands going into his pockets. "So, Bobby, what do you think? We got a biblical plague here, or what?"

"Well, let's find out. Looks like the swarm's ground zero." Bobby says walking toward the front door of the farmhouse.

Dean pops a piece of gum into his mouth to deal with his early-morning burger breath and knocks on the door. "Candygram!" He shouts. No one answers, so Dean pulls out his lock pick equipment and the rest of us pull our guns. As soon as the door opens, we're hit with a wall of stench, the smell of decay causing us to flinch and cover our noses.

"That's awful." Sam says quietly.

"That so can't be a good sign."

I find the sitting room first, gagging as I look at the family of desiccated corpses watching 'Dallas', though the television probably wasn't on 'Dallas' when they died. Sam and Dean burst into the room and recoil at the smell. Bobby's next. No one knows what happened here. Dean tells us to check for sulfur, then stops us with a whistle to gesture at us, let us know he saw something outside. He walks out to the porch and Bobby and I follow around the other side of the house. We watch as Dean gets beat down with the butt of a shotgun by a semi-familiar face.

"Issac? Tamara?" Bobby says, rushing forward.

"Bobby! What the hell are you doing here?" Tamara's accent makes the connection in my head and I rush forward.

"I could ask the same." Bobby responds.

"Tamara!" I smile at her.

"Y/n! Look at you! You were just a wee thing last I saw you!"

"I was eighteen, that's not so wee." I say.

"Sixteen." Sam corrects, quietly, walking up behind me. Shit. Sometimes even I forget Dad and I added two years to my age.

"Heya, Bobby. Hey, y/n." Issac greets.

"Hello." Dean raises an arm and pitifully waves for attention. "Bleeding here." I reach out and grab his hand, pulling him up off the porch easily. He discretely rubs his hand against his jeans like he's trying to rid himself of my cooties. I sigh and retreat away from him before he sees the devastation in my eyes. I turn the corner of the house and Sam is almost instantly upon me.

"Hey. You okay?"

"I don't need to be a mind reader to know what he's thinking. He still blames me."

"He's wrong." Sam insists.

"Yeah. So you keep saying." I take a deep breath. "It's fine. More important things. I'm gonna go find a pay phone and... call in the bodies." I smile tightly and rush away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've kinda dissociated since we've been at Tamara and Issac's place. I feel like I'm being watched. I feel like I need to kill something. I feel like I need a drink. I come back to myself as Dean walks into the room with his phone up to his ear. "Well, Jenny, if you look as pretty as you sound, I'd love to have an... appletini. Yeah. Call you." He hangs up and looks around the room. "That was the coroner's tech."

"And?" Sam asks.

"Get this. That whole family, cause of death? Dehydration and starvation. There's no signs of restraint, no violence, no struggle. They just sat down and never got up."

"But there was a fully stocked kitchen just yards away." Bobby says.

"Right. What is this, a demon attack?" Sam asks.

"If it is, it's not like anything I ever saw, and I've seen plenty." Bobby says.

"Well, what now?" Dean looks around the room. "What should we do?"

"Uh, we're not gonna do anything." Issac says.

"What do you mean?" Sam asks.

"You guys seem nice enough, but this ain't Scooby Doo and we don't play well with others." Issac answers.

"I think we'd cover a lot more ground if we all worked together." Sam says.

"No offense, but we're not teaming with the damn fools who let the Devil's Gate get open in the first place."

"No offense?" Dean says, his eyebrows scrunched together.

Heat fills my chest. "Were you there? They didn't let shit-"

"Y/n, don't." Sam says.

"No! This ain't on you. Jake opened that door! Jake killed you and opened that door and Bobby fuckin' closed it."

"They shoulda stopped Jake before it got open." Issac growls at me.

"Issac." Tamara admonishes. "Like you've never made a mistake."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah. Locked my keys in the car, turned my laundry pink. Never brought on the end of the world, though."

Dean chuckles, but he feels like he's about to throw a punch. I feel the same. "All right. That's enough."

"Guys, this isn't helping. Dean-"

"Look, there are a couple hundred more demons out there now. We don't know where they are, when they'll strike. There ain't enough hunters in the world to handle something like this. You brought war down on us. On all of us." Issac says. Tamara grabs his arm and pulls him away.

"Okay, that's enough testosterone for now." She says, leaving the room.

I shake my head and stomp out of the house. I bite my lip and start walking. I don't know where I'm walking, but I'm completely certain I'm not going back to Tamara and Issac's place. I make it to the mains of Lincoln before I decide to hit a bar. I drop onto a stool and order a bourbon. The bartender gives me a look that says he knows I'm in a bad place, but he doesn't ask. I down it quickly and hold up my hand for another. "You'll never be able to stop this alone, you know."

"I'm not alone." I turn to the owner of the accented voice. "And stop what?" I gawk a little at the attractive older man. He looks to be about forty-five, maybe fifty, with striking hazel-gold eyes. He's wearing a designer suit, Armani or something. He obviously catches my stare because his lips twist into a smug smirk.

"Well, you look alone, darling." He leans closer to me and I get a whiff of a musky cologne, strong scotch whiskey and just a hint of rotten eggs. "Sitting here drinking while your boyfriends try to figure out what happened in that farmhouse."

"I don't have boyfriends." I smirk and lean away from him. "And I bet you could tell me what happened in that farmhouse, couldn't you?"

"I could. Do you want that?"

"And why would you do that? Why would you give me information, when I know what you are?"

"You don't know the half of what I am, pet." He smirks. "But the most important thing that I am is someone who was just fine with the old status quo. I'm someone who doesn't need or want a bunch of bloody ancients muckin' about in my territory, and I'm someone who can help you win the bloody war Azazel brought on."

"Listen to you sayin' 'someone' like you're a people. It's adorable." I take a drink of bourbon and lick it from my lips. I study its face, looking for... something. "How could you possibly help me win the war?"

"I can give you your powers back, teach you control. You can use your little gifts to save people, put things back the right way. The End of the World isn't very good for sales, I'm sure you understand."

I nod. "So, you're a crossroads demon."

"Crowley. King of the crossroads demons." His eyes fill in with red as he extends his hand. I take it, my eyes not leaving his... its eyes. Not a man. It's an 'it'.

"How can you give them back? The Yellow-Eyed Demon is dead." I won't admit to this creature that I miss the powers, that I miss knowing what people are thinking. That I was getting used to it, that I was hoping to get stronger.

"He's obviously not the only demon who knows how to tap into what you've got inside you, darling. Now, do you know how he turned you and all his special children into special children?"

I lick my lips and drop its hand. Bobby filled me in on this. "Demon blood. I was force-fed it as a baby."

"Right." It nods, its eyes regain the green-gold quality of its vessel. "Every bit of what made you extraordinary imparted in a few drops of blood."

"You obviously don't know what makes me extraordinary, then." I respond.

He smiles. It's not a smirk. It's a real, honest smile. "You're wrong about that. I know exactly what makes you extraordinary. And how sexy you can make a word like 'daddy' is only a small part." I look away from him. I don't know how he knows about that, but I'm not going to comment. "Your dedication to the job is paramount. You want to help people. I can help you help people."

"And what, you just need my soul?" I roll my eyes.

"No. Not your soul. I just need you to have a drink." He produces a glass vial with a dark red liquid in it.

"Is that-"

"Yes. It's mine, if that helps."

"Not much." I swallow and reach out to grab the vial. "I don't... What am I supposed to do with this?"

"You're not stupid, y/n." His fingertips release the glass and slide across my wrist. "A few drops gave you your gifts, what do you think a few more would do for you?"

I look down at his hand on me and shake my head. "You'll do well to keep your hands to yourself, Crowley, King of the Crossroads. Because I'm not stupid and I'm not going to be seduced by a demon."

He smirks and pulls his hand away, conjuring a burn phone and setting it on the top of the bar. "My number's the only one in there. Call when you decide to drink that. I'll work you through it."

I tuck the vial in my pocket and swivel on the bar stool until I'm looking straight at him. "And the family in the farmhouse?"

"Ah, yes. Check Binsfeld's Classification of Demons. Under 'S'." The demon says before disappearing. I immediately pull out a pen and write down 'Binsfeld's Demons- S' on a cocktail napkin. The vial feels heavy in my pocket as I throw down money on the counter and leave the bar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I get a motel room and pour salt lines along the door and windows. I pull out the laptop I swiped from the room next door with the passed out businessman on the bed and find a digitized copy of Binsfeld's Classification of Demons after hacking a student sign-in for Harvard. I scroll to the S section and just past the demon Samhain, which just gives me more reason to hate Halloween, I see it. The Seven Sins. Not just sins, but actual demons which specialize in inspiring their specific sin. The farmers, they were just too lazy to get up and feed themselves, get water. Sloth's touch.

I read the entire entry three times before I sigh and shut the laptop. I flop face-down onto the bed and groan as the vial in my pocket digs into my leg. I pull it out of my pocket and slam it down on the side table, trying to ignore it and fall asleep, but my eyes keep opening and focusing on the bottle. I close them, tell myself it's stupid to even entertain the idea of drinking blood, especially demon blood, but after about twenty minutes I sit up and swipe the vial off of the table. I twist it, twirling it between my fingers, watching the dark red liquid move in the bottle, like a wave of dark syrup.

I know I shouldn't do it. I'm not stupid. Even the demon said I'm not stupid. But sometimes I make really stupid decisions.

As I twist open the top of the bottle, I tell myself that it's just scientific curiosity. That the demon put forth a hypothesis of what drinking his blood would do for me and I'm just testing to see if he was right. It's a lie. I know it's a lie. The blood is calling to me. I don't know if it's that I know it can give me back my gifts or the blood I've had in me my whole life yearning to be joined with the blood in the vial, but I know I need to taste it. Just a taste.

I dab a drop of blood onto my left index finger and stare at it. It's lighter in color outside of the bottle. I lick my lips and bring my hand up to sniff at the blood drop. It smells like iron and sulfur, which is exactly what I was expecting. "This is stupid." I go to wipe the blood off on my jeans, but I stop myself. "Fuck." I detour the finger up to my mouth and lick the blood off. It takes a few minutes to kick in, but when it does, I go into shivers. My body is suddenly burning hot and the motel room feels freezing cold. On the back of the sudden fever and my heart pounding in my ears, I notice that I can feel everything. Things I never noticed before, like the scratchy blanket I was lying under that I can feel every fiber of the fabric, the vibrations from the light in the lamp on the bedside table, the weight of the denim of my jeans. "Oh, my god." I whine.

The phone in my pocket goes off and I flip it open. "You were supposed to call me, Baby Girl." The demon's voice sends a shiver through my entire body and it's not because of the fever. My body reacts to the nickname conjuring up images of John in my head and I whimper. "I'm right outside your motel, sweetheart. Open the door."

"There's salt." I mutter.

"Then, move it. Don't you want me to help you, Baby Girl?"

I whine. "Don't call me that."

"You like it. Come on, pet, I can't help you through the phone."

"I don't even wanna move." I admit, sitting up.

"How much did you have, y/n?"

I take a deep breath and shuffle across the carpet to open the door. I run my boot across the salt line. "I had one... just a... just one drop." I move out of the way and he steps inside. It. It steps inside. Fuck, why did I just let it in?

"One drop, just to see what it does?" He places his hands on my hips and walks me backwards to the bed. I look into his vessel's eyes, breathing heavily. His fingertips feel warm, his body comfortable against mine. "Yore incredibly sensitive, aren't you? Thought a girl who's been drinking hard liquor since she was fifteen would have a bit more resistance."

"Liquor's not the same." I breathe out.

"Not at all." He smiles and pushes me to the bed. "Now, darling... tell me what I'm thinking."

I shake my head. "I don't know."

"Come on. It's only been a few days, Baby Girl. Yore not that rusty. What am I thinking?" I close my eyes as he climbs onto the bed with me, heavy hand running up under my shirt and rubbing his thumb in sweeping motions across my abs. An image forms in my mind. It's cloudy, grey around the edges, but it makes me moan when it comes into focus. Crowley with his face between my thighs, my wrists tied to the headboard above my head, me writhing under him. "That's a good girl. You know exactly what I'm thinkin', don't you?"

"No." I'm not denying that I know what he's thinking. I'm denying him. I grab his wrist and stop his hand in its upward movement. "You're... you're a demon."

"And you're high on my blood. Do you know how good it'd feel for you?" He leans down over me, brushes his lips over mine. "I can make you feel amazing."

"You're supposed to be helping me, not trying to fuck me." I whisper, closing my eyes as more images pour into my brain, each more raunchy that the last.

"I can do both." He growls against my mouth, pressing his lips harshly into mine. It feels good. I whine into him. He grabs the hem of my shirt and pulls it off. I shiver in the cold of the room, but he immediately covers me with his warm body. He pushes my legs apart and settles between them, runs his tongue along my neck. "I'll fuck you until you come down from the blood and then we'll work on your powers." My phone goes off and it jolts me enough to bring me back to the real world, back to who I really am. I push the demon off of me and reach out my hand, smiling softly as my shirt flies into my hand.

"You're a demon." I slide the shirt over my head and pull my phone out. "I'm not fucking you." I check my text and smile. It's Sam. He's worried about me. I text to let him know I'm fine, that I got a motel and I'll track him down tomorrow. Then I turn to Crowley. "Start teaching, or I get the salt."

"More resistance than I thought you had." He grumbles, rolling off the bed. "Come on. Stand up. We've got a lot to do."

Supernatural Tags- @mrswhozeewhatsis, @letsby, @adoptdontshoppets

#cassie writes stuff #spn #spn fanfic #reader-insert #sam/reader #surprise!/reader #demon blood #the first taste is free

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heartbreakerholland · 6 years ago

Text

a temporary home [t.h. & h.o.]

part 3

Warnings: swearing, lots of arguing, a bad ending, 90% a tom chapter

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: thank you to everyone for being so patient! i took a well needed break, for sake of my mental health, but i am back with the next part for this mini series! don't forget to give me feedback and tell me what you think might happen next! also, i am SO sorry if the read more doesn’t work!

[masterlist] [join a tag list]

[pt. 2]

•••

Tom sat up in his bed, staring blankly at whatever his television was playing for him. He was too pent up in his thoughts to focus.

As soon as he heard soft snores come from Harrison's room, the brunette swung his feet off the bed. He stared at the ground for a moment, contemplating if this should really be done.

"Ah, fuck it," he told himself.

His socked feet padded over carpet then soon the hardwood floor after leaving his room. He slid them one beside the other, hoping the floorboards wouldn't creak and possibly wake his best friend. He knocked softly on your door, hoping there'd be no answer coming from you. It would be an acceptable excuse for not talking to you like he should, right?

"What?" your voice groggily called from the other side of the door.

"Damn it," Tom whispered. Now he actually does have to talk. He cleared his throat. "Y/N? It's Tom. We need to talk. Are you decent in there?"

He heard a mumble from you, which he hoped was a yes. He slowly turned the doorknob and welcomed himself in.

"What do you want?" you mumbled on your bed having clearly just woken up, faced away from him. "I'm sorry about Beth, okay? You don't have to talk to me because Hazzy said so, I know you hate me."

He rolled his eyes at your use of his friend's nickname, but pushed aside his annoyance and replied. "I guess I wasn't being too fair on you, so I'm sorry."

You slowly turned your body over to face him and pat the edge of your bed, signaling to Tom that he could sit. He did.

"Erm," you started. "I'll forgive you if you forgive me about Beth?"

He stared at you, ready to get this over with. "Alright." He stood up again and clapped his hands together, satisfied with this outcome. Easy. "Sounds like a done deal to me."

He took a step towards the door, ready to get some rest himself.

"Wait, Tom?"

God fucking dammit, he thought.

He turned around. "Mmm?"

You blinked. "You didn't deny hating me."

He blinked back. How the hell was he supposed to reply to that?

"Uh. . ." What was he supposed to say? Yeah Y/N, I didn't deny it because it's kind of true?

You chuckled and sat yourself up. "Do you think you could tell me why? I've got to have done something, right?"

He sighed and rubbed his face. To put it nicely, you weren't his favorite person. Of course there's more to it, but those were reasons he wasn't comfortable sharing.

"It's just me," he lied. "Not you, me. Can I go now? I'm tired." He took another step closer to the door.

You let out a dramatic sigh. "Tooooooom. C'mon. Be a good sport. What is it?"

He turned back around, ready more than ever now to put you back to sleep his own way. "I've got more energy to sleep, not hurt your feelings, Y/N." There. That was truthful.

You studied his face for a moment, then scrunched your eyebrows as if they were telling you that his reply wasn't good enough. "Tom, I'm living with you now. We need to face this problem eventually, and I'd rather do it now when my moving in is fresh, y'know? If you need to hurt my feelings to tell me the truth, then do it." You sat up straighter, bracing yourself.

He let out a hard breath. "You're just annoying, alright?" Half truth. "Whatever H sees in you, I don't. Don't take it too personally, Y/N." He impatiently scooted closer to the door. He wasn't in the mood to have this conversation and frankly, he didn't think he ever would be.

You swung your feet back and forth but stayed attentive to Tom's figure. You were somehow wide awake and he didn't like it one bit. "C'mon Tom. We both know there's more."

His fists clenched, you having already gotten on his nerves. "Drop it, Y/N." After a beat, he said, "I'm going to sleep." He took no time turning around completely and reaching a hand for the doorknob.

"No, Tom!" you suddenly exclaimed, which startled the both of you.

He turned his head around to see you were now standing up straight and had your fists clenched down at your sides. Your chest rose up and down faster than normal, and your eyes were wide.

"I'm tired of this," you said.

You now had his full attention, as he had moved around to lean his back on the door and cross his arms lazily, as if watching a boring show.

You continued, your voice gradually rising with each sentence. "You're gonna listen to me, alright? I'm done playing whatever game you're trying to win. Like I said, we are living together now and I deserve to know whatever you have against me." Words were spoken faster one after another, and you were running on this sudden adrenaline and dared to keep going. "Sure, I let you give me shit before, but it's different now because I am here and I'm not leaving anytime soon, alright? So spill."

He smiled to himself and chuckled, which only infuriated you more. You felt heat in your face rising and heart pounding with anger, ready to slap his insulting smirk off. Why was he so calm? It was aggravating.

Before you could speak your mind while still drunk on the sudden adrenaline, he replied.

"You just make it so easy, you know that, love?" Tom mused. "I can say and do whatever I want, but you let everything get to you and it's just so easy. . . A bit sad, really."

A flash of hurt uncovered in your eyes, but you ignored the choking feeling in your throat and stepped closer to Tom.

You were well aware it was never a good idea to be speaking bitter truths out loud. You prided yourself in having self control and being the bigger person, holding your words back so not to cause damage that would be there long after an argument.

This was not a moment to be proud of.

"Oh yeah, Tom?" Your toes were mere inches from his, and you looked him dead in those cursed brown eyes with all the bitterness you could find in yourself. "Say and do whatever you want, huh? Say I'm annoying all you want, but you should keep in mind that people can think the same for you."

Confusion came and went across Tom's features, signaling a small victory for yourself. You continued with an evil smirk similar to what he had before.

"If you weren't a self-centered fucking prick, then maybe you'd have realized that I wasn't the reason Beth didn't want to see you again. You did that all by yourself, Thomas."

You crossed your arms in triumph while his fell, along with his face.

High on this win, your mouth kept running.

"Yeah, Mister Perfect. Wanna know what she told me when you weren't listening? You were just another pretty face to look at, and not much else to her. Even a stranger can see that a brick has more personality than you."

Those weren't exactly her words. . . at all. You weren't even sure where this word vomit was coming from. Tom wasn't that bad and even you knew it, but anything you said at this point could be the truth to him. You had his attention and your own pent up anger, and what better combination?

The hurt appeared over his features and was stuck there. Looking at it, you suddenly realized what went wrong. You had gone too far, said a lie that would surely stay in the back of his mind forev—

"Keep telling yourself that, darling.”

His eyebrows were scrunched and he was looking down at you. Tom had a calm exterior but it was like you could actually see pieces of it cracking away to show that you had hit his boiling point.

"If it really helps you sleep at night," he murmured, "then keep telling yourself tha—"

"Oh what the hell is that supposed to mean!"

He towered over you and you instinctively stepped back. He kept creeping forward and caused you to go backward until you hit the edge of your bed from behind.

"You know exactly what I'm on about!"

You were half seated on the bed while Tom was still completely standing, nearly hovering over you.

He continued. "Don't you play innocent, you fuckin' snake! First you went off and ruined Harrison's life but that doesn't mean you could go off and ruin mine too, you div!"

You were both breathing heavily, the air in your room thick and hot. "What're you on about? Harrison and I are best friends, dumbass! How would I ruin his—"

"Oh you fuckin' know how! Pretend like you didn't do it all you want, but I know the truth! I know the truth, and you're a fuckin' bitch for doing that to him."

Tom calling you that caught you completely off guard.

You held yourself up with your arms and returned his threatening stare, though all that repeated in your mind was bitch. After a silent moment, you composed yourself and spoke up again. "What the hell are you talking about? Harrison and I are best friends, and you damn well know I'd never hurt him, Tom. Stop feeding yourself bullsh—"

"You're bullshit!" His fists were clenched, eyes never leaving you. His accent grew thicker and you struggled a bit to understand the slurred words mixed with his high volumes. "You're fuckin' full of yourself, Y/N, y'know that? All ya fuckin' do is worry 'bout yourself and ya never care 'bout anyone else 'round ya!"

He never gave you a chance to speak up or interrupt. Tom was on a roll now, and it would require just as much luck as finding a four leaf clover in his hair to stop him.

"I was the one pickin' up all 'ose pieces of 'im that you broke when ya left for that dumbarse, James. I'd think you'd have remembered but I thought wrong, 'cause you're so caught up in your own little world!"

"What—"

"Don't fuckin' 'what' me! You think I don' know 'bout what you did with Isabella, huh? I'm not fuckin' stupid, Y/N." He stopped suddenly, chest rising and falling rapidly with his hard breaths.

You were frozen, staring at him. You watched as his reddened skin calmed and went away, while his fists slowly unclenched.

To say you were shocked would've been an understatement. Sure, you had regrets, but you pushed those memories down and swore that they'd never resurface. Obviously, based on Tom's words, you were wrong.

You gave him a moment to calm down and catch his breath before speaking. It also gave you time to think of what you needed to say next.

You looked down at your feet hovering over the ground, with Tom's practically right underneath yours from the close proximity. Neither of you dared to move away from each other.

"I didn't mean to do it," you muttered.

You purposely shut those memories out, and from how long ago it happened? It was hard to even remember how exactly things went. One of the few things you were sure of, however, was what you just told Tom.

He took a deep breath and moved to sit next to you on the bed, both of you finally calm from your outbursts.

"Didn't mean to do what, huh?" He said softly. "Get rid of her or fall in love with him?"

You immediately looked up at Tom's face. "I'm not—I wasn't—I never was in love with Harrison!" He smirked at your rambles, but you didn't notice it and continued. "I just—I didn't mean to—It was just a little crush, alright! You know that Tom, you're the only person I told! Don't tease me about it."

He put his hands up in a don't shoot motion and shook his head playfully. "I'm not, Y/N, I'm not. . . What I'm sayin' is, you go around preaching that you're so perfect, that nothin's wrong with you. But it sounds to me like you just forgot what you've done."

You looked down at your hands, finally feeling embarrassment from Tom's truth.

"Harrison. . ." Tom continued slowly, looking at you. "You hurt him, Y/N. Now don't go off telling him I said that, because he didn't want you to know that he was as hurt as he was. . . I don't think he knows it himself actually, but yeah, you hurt him just as much as Isabella did."

You raised your head and met his gaze. "What am I supposed to do about that, Tom? That was years ago. It was always something that everyone silently agreed not to talk about."

He shrugged, and raised himself from the bed. "Aye, do what you want with it. You asked why I don't like you. I answered."

You grinned. "Does that mean we're friends again? Back to how it was before?" It was childish, the way you asked, but maybe you felt a little too desperate to be on good terms with Tom again to say anything differently.

He chuckled and motioned for a hug. "Yeah, alright. Whatever."

You lifted yourself from your bed and welcomed the side hug graciously with a smile.

"Don't think we could go right back to how it was before—that was how many years ago? Jesus." Tom said. "We weren't even that close back then either. But sure. Friends, I guess."

He freed his arm from around you and began walking back to the door, and you followed with a smile.

"No more tea with too much sugar is a start," you teased.

"No no no," he said. He put his hand on the doorknob but didn't turn it just yet. "That's all you—You've just got bad taste, darling."

You scoffed and playfully put a hand over your chest in mock hurt. "What's that supposed to mean, Thomas?"

"Blonds and no sugar, really?"

"Tom!"

The buzzing of your phone woke you up. You groggily looked at your window, greeted with the morning sun shining through the blinds and the tweeting of birds to accompany it. You groaned before picking up your phone and answering, not bothering to check who was calling.

"Y/N! Y/N!" A high pitched voice exclaimed from the other end. "How could you not tell me?"

You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion. Finally opening your eyes, you looked at the caller ID and saw it was Beth calling you, and also that it was considerably late in the morning for you to still be asleep.

You cleared your throat, dry from sleeping, and hoped it wouldn't sound rough. "Not tell you what?"

You coughed, it clearly having not worked. You sat up and grabbed a water bottle at your bedside table, drinking it while listening to Beth's voice.

"That Tom Holland is freaking Spider-Man!"

You put the bottle down and rolled your eyes. Seriously? She was calling about that?

"Well, yeah," you replied grumpily. "I just assumed everyone knew already."

"I didn't!" She was so loud that you had to take the phone away from your ear.

You sighed, already seeing where this would be going.

"You live with him, right?" Beth continued. "Can I come over? We need to talk—"

"Sorry, Beth," you interrupted. "I don't think that's a good idea. I have to go now, bye."

Before she could put another word in, you hung up. You were disappointed, to say the least. She seemed like a genuine person, but a second of possible fame revealed otherwise, like it always did.

You sighed again and put your phone down. "There goes another friend," you muttered.

You shook it off. This wasn't the first time, and you knew it wouldn't be the last. Perks of association, as Harrison would joke. Sure, Tom got special treatment for being in the spotlight, but you and Harrison and any other friends of Tom's had to deal with the people trying to climb out of the shadows. This was just another one of those times, and maybe it meant constantly losing friends, but you and H tried to see the bright side of things. "At least it shows where their heads' at," he would say, followed by your agreement.

You crept out of your room, phone in hand, and groggily rubbed your eyes.

"There's the beast!" a voice announced.

Spots briefly danced in your vision, but as soon as it cleared you were greeted with the sight of Tom and Harrison. They were seated comfortably on the couches with an ungodly amount of pizza boxes on the table in front of them. They were watching a soccer game—or football, as they'd say—and were too invested to formally greet you.

The sky outside was a cloudy gray, completely illuminating the flat and the boys inside. Tom's dog, Tessa, was curled up and sleeping next to him. Harrison, alone on his side of the couch, glanced from you and the television screen.

You walked up behind Harrison, who called you the beast, and greeted him by ruffling his hair. He allowed you to do so for a moment then stopped you by placing his hand on your wrist.

He looked up at you and smiled. "'Ello, love. Saved some pizza for ya."

You smiled back at him. "Thanks, Haz." You walked around the couch and grabbed a slice from the table. You placed your phone next to the boxes then sat yourself next to Harrison.

You weren't sure how obvious it was to the guys, but you definitely felt lighter, like the talk with Tom last night lifted a weight off your chest. It was about time, if you really thought about it. You never realized until now that you met James around the same time you met Tom, and since then he treated you like an unbreakable curse. The short explanation that he gave you last night made the pieces click together, and it had you finally see where he was coming from. If you had to help heal your friend's cracked heart while the one who did the breaking was still in the picture, you probably would've acted just the same.

You weren't as into the game as the boys were, even after you finished your pizza. It was going slow, and the team they were rooting for didn't seem like they would win anyways.

You had your head resting on top of one of the couch's arms and your legs over Harrison's lap. Full from the food and completely comfortable laying down, sleep welcomed you no matter how loud the boys got from the game.

"Who the fuck keeps messaging Y/N?" Tom said aloud. Your phone had been vibrating on the table for a while, though it did nothing to disturb your nap.

Harrison shrugged, his hands softly massaging your legs. "Wanna check?" he asked. "Might be important."

"Why can't you?" the other boy said. He was already comfortable in his spot on the large couch, and he still wasn't as close to you as Harrison was to be going on your phone either.

"I don't wanna wake her up."

Tom rolled his eyes and got up. Having to find a comfortable position again was annoying, but hearing your phone constantly go off was worse. He lifted the screen to his eyes and skimmed the messages on your lock screen, all from the same person.

Each message reached into him and brought out a lump in his throat. It was Beth, and she was messaging you about him. That wasn't even the worst part, it was that she kept saying that she wanted to see Tom again.

"Who is it?" Harrison asked.

"It's. . . Uh."

Suddenly your phone began ringing again, the caller ID showing it was the same person. Without thinking, Tom answered the call.

"Hello?" he started. He sat himself back on the couch, and Harrison generously turned the volume of the television down.

"Y/N?" Beth said from the other side. "Is this Y/N?"

"No, this is Tom. Y/N's, erm, asleep right now."

"Oh, perfect!" She sounded giddy, to his surprise. "I wanted to talk to you actually."

"Oh did you?" He placed an arm over his chance, smirking at what he expected Beth to say.

"Yeah," she continued. "Y/N's not let me talk to you—she's said that I shouldn't—but I'd really like to go for another shot at a date, if you'd like?"

His eyes travelled to your sleeping figure, oblivious to the situation at hand. He felt his skin gradually heat up with anger, unable to believe that you were bold enough to keep Tom from dating someone he clearly liked. First Harrison, and now him?

Your body began to stir, and Harrison motioned for Tom to end the call already so you wouldn't wake to see him on your phone.

As soon as your eyes began to flutter open, Tom kept his watch on you and replied, "Y'know what? I'd love to. You've got my number, yeah? Alright, just text me, love. Cheers."

He ended the call and observed your reaction to his delight. You looked astonished, to say the least, while Harrison sat in confusion.

"Who was that?" you asked him carefully.

He shrugged and tossed the phone on the couch cushions, pretending that he didn't want to wring you dry. "I'm sure you've already got an idea, darling."

"Tom."

"It was Beth. She had a very important message, which apparently you tried to hide from me, eh?"

You and Harrison tensed at the words, Harrison ready to defend you if he needed to.

"Tom," you said again. You rose from the couch and stood to face him. "You don't know the whole story—"

"This is bullshit," he interrupted. He stood and faced you completely, and you winced at his words. "I knew I couldn't trust you. You listen to my lil speech last night, say we should give it a go at being friends, and not even 24 hours later you're already going off behind my back? Really, Y/N? I'm done. I wish I could say I'm surprised."

Harrison stood too, slightly behind you. He raised a hand, like Tom was a wild dog that needed to be caught. "Tom," he warned. "You've got to chill, mate. I'm sure Y/N can explain if you let her."

"If I let her?" Tom said louder.

You backed away a bit, realizing this wasn't one of those times where you could put your word in. You stood next to Harrison, both of you anticipating Tom's next move.

He spoke softer now, as if regaining his temper. "Look," he breathed out. "I'm sorry for yellin' so much, Y/N. We know that's not me. I promise, it's not me. But I'll just let you know now that you can tell me any excuse you want, explain whatever you want, but I'll never believe you. Friends don't keep friends from goin' on dates." He gave you a small squint at that last sentence. "Clearly you've got some work to do on knowing what a friend does. You've been havin' problems with it for a coupl'a years now."

Harrison scrunched his eyebrows in more confusion, looking back and forth between the two of you. In another beat, Tom walked away and into his room, Tessa jumping off the couch and following him.

Harrison lead you to sit back on the couch next to him. You slumped your shoulders and put your head on him, which he welcomed with an embrace.

You were exhausted. Only a couple of hours had gone by with relief. The air was cleared, the water got a bit cleaner, the weights were lifted. It was the next step with Tom, but now you'd gone back ten steps and you didn't know how to get any further.

"This is too much, Haz," you finally said.

He rested his chin on the top of your head and was rubbing your arm comfortingly. "I know, love," he murmured. He didn't ask for you to explain what had just happened, and for that, you silently thanked him.

"Should I try to talk to him?" you asked, speaking towards Haz's chest.

You felt him shake his head slightly, and you sighed.

There was a part of you that was grateful of what Tom said, specifically because he didn't mention a certain someone that the two of you spoke of the night before. You could deal with whatever backlash he had for you, but you didn't know if you'd ever be able to handle Harrison knowing what happened with her.

Everything was laid out on the table between you and Tom, but he was the only one who could use anything to his advantage. It was like you were there only to watch and see whether or not Tom dared play his cards to win.

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squadlessgeek · 7 years ago

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"I thought I loved you, but I guess I was wrong"

heeeeeeeeccccccckkkkk, coming right up my dude

Title: I Was Wrong

Summary: Deceit and Virgil angst, post Accepting Anxiety and Can Lying Be Good. The more time Virgil spends with the “light” sides, the more he realizes his worth and how poorly the “dark” sides—especially one in particular—treated him. Deceit just does his thing.

Warnings: Deceit (fanon Deceit is a warning in and of himself tbh), abuse, negative self-talk sorta, cursing, terrible portrayal of Deceit UGH im sorry

Word count: 2172

Pairings: past Virgil / Deceit (Anxceit ?? is that what it’s called?), maybe LAMP if you wanna read into that?, Moxiety at the end

Tag List: @monikastec @persepinecone @horsesquid @sassy-and-messy (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

In most instances, he came at night. Just like Virgil did with Thomas so often, keeping him from sleep, worrying him about anything and everything he could think of. The irony was cruel; Virgil couldn’t help but feel like he deserved it.

At night, when the mind is at its weakest, when anxiety is at an all time high, when lies are easy to believe, when questionable decisions are made.

Deceit could be present without actually, physically being present. He could whisper to the mind, whether the whispers were sweet or sinister. And at night, with no distractions or reassurance that lies were, in fact, lies, he was at his strongest.

Virgil never tossed or turned, but instead he laid in bed, on his back, staring up at the ceiling fan slowly turning above him. He was used to this; the lack of sleep, the heavy eyelids, the racing mind that refused to shut down and just rest already. There was no doubt that, even if he did manage to get some sort of sleep, come morning he would still be exhausted, still visibly weary, still a stick in the mud, boring, gloomy, downer, annoying, worthless, worthless, worthless.

The motions of the ceiling fan were beginning to make him dizzy, and a dread settled in his stomach that he knew wasn’t just nausea. Virgil closed his eyes and attempted his usual breathing exercise, shooing the thoughts away to the best of his ability. He repeated to himself a short mantra that Patton had taught him, that usually helped at least a little bit in situations like this.

I am capable. I know who I am and I am enough. I am whole, healthy, and strong. I am deserving and worthy of all good things. I know the people in my life truly care about me, and I care about them too. I am capable. I am enough.

He repeated it to himself a few times over, the phrases memorized now due to how often he had to use them. But his heart continued to beat at a pace that was entirely unnecessary, his mind continued to reel, and he could no longer keep up the regular breathing.

I am capable. I am enough. I am capable. I am enough. I am capable. I am—

You are

Worthless.

He sat up suddenly, pressing his palms to his face and breathing in sharply through his nose. Not tonight. Please, not tonight. Before tears could begin to form, he threw the covers off and stood from the bed, arms wrapped protectively around his middle. In bare feet, he left his room as quietly as possible and tiptoed down to the kitchen, all while the thoughts persisted.

Waste of space. Waste of time. Waste of air.

With shaking hands, Virgil opened a cupboard and reached for a glass. Water, he just needed water, it’d be fine, it’ll be fine. His hands were slick with sweat, unstable, and the glass slipped from his grip as he pulled it from the cupboard. Despite his efforts to catch it, it bounced off his fingers and hit the ground with a loud shatter. He instinctively jumped back from the broken glass, hissing, “Shit!”

He pulled at his hair, gritting his teeth, hoping that no one heard, hoping that no one else was awake to see him like this. The last thing the others needed was another one of his stupid dilemmas, something they’d already worked through. It was pathetic, that even with the daily reminders from his friends about his importance, his purpose, how much they really cared, he still felt like this. He still struggled with his own worth, he couldn’t even manage to sleep right, he couldn’t even hold a cup without screwing everything up.

It was pathetic.

You are pathetic. You are worthless.

“I know!” He whisper-shouted, sucking in a sharp breath as the tears began to fall. He sunk to the ground, dangerously close to the shards of glass, but he didn’t care. He sat with his back against the counter, legs tucked underneath him, all energy leaving his body.

His eyes were closed, but he could feel him there, hear the tapping of his shoes and the shuffling of his obnoxiously hideous clothing as he crouched in front of Virgil, crushing the glass further beneath his feet.

“Go away,” Virgil managed, his voice wavering, thick with grief. I can’t take this anymore.

Deceit laughed under his breath, quiet and yet chilling to Virgil’s core. He kept his eyes shut tight, jaw clenched.

“Refusing to look at me won’t do you any good, dear, you know this.”

A lie. All he does is lie. Everything he says is a lie. Virgil shook his head, resisting the urge to look. He treated Deceit’s unwanted visits like he would a bad dream. Look away, refuse to give it any power, it can’t hurt you unless you let it. A soft hum, and then Virgil felt gloved fingers gripping his chin. His eyes shot open to their own accord, his heart pounding so quickly that it was almost painful in his chest. He froze, caught like a deer in the headlights, though instead of headlights it was a pair of eyes that weren’t really a pair at all. Mismatched. One eye of a human, one eye of a snake. His breath shook, terror filled him from his fingertips to his toes. He had to remind himself, over and over again, they’re all lies.

He’d imagined scenarios like this, in which he would confront Deceit, or one of the other “dark sides” (as Roman called them). Tell him to shove his lies somewhere not so pretty, maybe even deck him for old time’s sake. But when it came down to the real thing, Virgil was frozen, trapped. Cowardly. Pathetic. Worthless. He couldn’t even protect himself from the lies, how could he expect himself to protect any of the others? To protect Thomas?

“Look at you. I’ve always thought you were quite pretty when you cry,” Deceit cooed, leaning in much too close for comfort. Virgil tried to turn his head away but the other side’s grip tightened and he hissed with pain, instead directing his eyes anywhere but at the snake before him.

“Stop it,” he breathed. “You can’t do this anymore.”

“Oh, but I can. What did you expect, that I would simply cease to exist once you left? Hm? That I would just give up on you? You are much too important to me for that, my little storm cloud.”

“Bullshit,” Virgil hissed, showing a bit of courage that he didn’t think he actually had.

Deceit ignored his accusation and tried to meet the other’s eyes, growing visibly frustrated when he didn’t get what he wanted. He let go of Virgil’s chin and clicked his tongue, leaning back. He picked up one of the larger shards of glass and turned it over between two fingers as he spoke.

“What do you hope to gain from them?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. A half-smile settled onto his lips at the confused, hurt, scared look in Virgil’s eyes.

“Not everyone develops relationships with people just to gain something from them,” he said through clenched teeth. He could handle being told that he was worthless, he could deal with being used over and over again, but as soon as Deceit spoke badly about his new friends, his new family, Virgil grew defensive. Protective.

“They don’t actually care about you, dear. You must know that.”

“What, and you did?” he spat back, fists clenched at his sides.

That seemed to take Deceit by surprise. He tilted his head to the side and pursed his lips, setting the shard of glass down on the tile beside one of Virgil’s hands. Virgil pulled his fingers away from it and flicked his gaze towards Deceit, unsure of what he was planning on saying or doing. Part of him wanted to regret talking back, maybe it would just be better if he sat there and took it, just listened and nodded along obediently, it sure seemed to work enough for Deceit in the past, it could work again now. But as the snake moved closer once again, the angry fire rose in Virgil’s chest. Being this close to him again disgusted Virgil, made him want more than anything to crawl into a hole and decay. Or maybe push Deceit into a hole to decay. That sounded wonderful.

“Anxiety—”

“That isn’t my name, and you know it—”

“Of course I care about you,” the man insisted, ignoring the other’s words, pulling Virgil away from his thoughts. The gloved fingers returned to his face, this time tapping one by one against his cheek.

Virgil swatted them away before he could second-guess himself, muttering, “No.”

“No?”

“No. You don’t. You never did.” Virgil grew more and more defiant, now leaning forward instead of recoiling, jabbing an accusatory finger at Deceit’s chest. It was the snake’s turn to recoil, to have a deer-in-the-headlights sort of expression, though he quickly hid his shock with a sly smirk. “You said you— you loved me, but that—… that was another lie. It wasn’t true, any of it, and it still isn’t.” Virgil sucked in a stabilizing breath and forced himself to keep going, rising to his feet and looking down on Deceit. He was no longer in control. Virgil refused to give him any power. “This, what you do, it isn’t love. What the others do, that’s love. I thought I loved you, but I guess I was wrong, because what I feel when I’m around Patton and Roman and Logan is nothing compared to what I feel when I’m around you. You make me afraid, you heighten my anxiety, you tear me down piece by piece until I’m just a little fucking plaything for you to toy with. Well I’m done, alright?!” He clenched his fists and pressed them to his shut eyes, keeping his jaw tight and refusing to let anymore tears slip out. “I’m done.”

Silence.

All he could hear was his own ragged breathing, but he didn’t dare open his eyes to see if Deceit had gone. He didn’t dare open his eyes to see if it was all a dream, or if he was in for the emotional manipulation of a lifetime, or if anything. He just stood there like that, for what felt like hours, breathing, breathing. No thoughts of self deprecation intruded on his breathing. He was hesitant to take that as a good sign.

“Virgil?”

He jerked, moving his hands from his face and looking with wide eyes to see who had spoken. Patton stood, barefoot and in his cat hoodie and pajama shorts, in the entrance to the kitchen. Last time, there were several indications that gave away Deceit’s disguise; the return to an old sweater that Patton had abandoned, the sudden and intrusive entrances rather than Patton’s usual giddy and (sometimes) well-timed ones, the blatant disregard for the discomfort of others. Unless Deceit was getting better at mimicking the soft concern in the moral side’s voice, the tired confusion in his eyes, or even the wardrobe choices, this was Patton, really Patton. There were no telltale signs that may have convinced Virgil of otherwise.

The anxious side breathed a sigh of relief, letting himself relax. Just as he was about to greet Patton, though, maybe give him a reason for his being up so late, Patton’s eyes were drawn to the tile in front of Virgil’s feet. He gasped and entered the kitchen carefully, kneeling down beside the glass to begin delicately picking up the bigger shards. Virgil returned to the floor as well and helped the best he could. The two threw away everything they could pick up, and then Patton finished up the rest with a small dustpan.

Once all the glass was gone, Virgil was ready to head back to bed without another word, but Patton’s worried touch on his shoulder stopped him.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” the moral side said, a sad smile on his lips. “But it isn’t hard to tell when… well, when someone or something is bothering you.” He scratched at the back of his neck while Virgil blatantly avoided meeting his eyes. “But hey, we’ve got you, kiddo, alright? Don’t forget that. What are you?”

Virgil looked up, confused by the question. “What?”

“What are you? Remember? I am capable. I know who I am and—”

“I am enough,” they said together, Patton giving Virgil a beaming smile as they finished the mantra.

“There. See? It’s true, all of it.”

“Yeah,” Virgil sighed, grateful for the reminder of what was truth and what wasn’t. “Thanks, Pat.”

“You’re welcome, kiddo. Come on.” Hand in hand, the two returned upstairs, stopping outside of Virgil’s bedroom. Patton pulled him into a tight, warm embrace, whispering “Lies are just that, Virgil; lies,” before they parted ways and Virgil finally got the rest he so desperately needed.

Lies are just that.

Lies.

#heck dude #angst #my writing #cursing #long post #fic #prompt #anxceit #abuse /#bad characterization ugghhhh #im sorry lmao #deceit #virgil #patton #moxiety

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