#i think.... i kept watching jaws on repeat for a few months until the recording deleted?

[parakeetpark]

I watched Jaws 1975 for the first time in over a decade and now I've got that Lemon Demon song stuck in my head and i want to find out more about how it was made

[asterroidd]

fragment in time

↬ Reincarnation/Soulmate AU

—Wherein past lovers would always find each other in a different life.

↬ Pairing: Levi Ackerman/Reader

↬ Word count: 4.4k

↬ Synopsis: Perhaps in another lifetime, you and Levi would finally be together.

↬ not proofread, capn’ :’)

   The smell of blood wafted through the air. Screams of terror of fallen soldiers plagued your senses as man-eating-giants unhinged their jaws, their large teeth sinking down into the soft flesh of your comrades. Their blood splattered around, your terrified eyes watching each and every one in your squad being eaten alive by the titans.

   It was a simple mistake, an error created by the supposed messenger from the other squad of soldiers reporting in to inform you of the titan wreaking havoc amongst the lands to the west. You took them upon their word, heeding into the information, and as such steered the squad towards the east to avoid the chaos.

   But they were supposed to say east. East was where the giant beasts are.

   Which brings you back to today's scene, wherein you are badly injured—and perhaps internally bleeding—with an aberrant titan desolating your men.

   Biting down your cheeks, you groaned in pain as you adjusted yourself into a sitting position. Hands flying down to your stomach in attempts to stop the bleeding caused by a titan that caught you earlier.  You were in death's door—a foot in the grave you have dug yourself in ever since you signed up to be a soldier in the Survey Corps—ready to embrace the sweet release of death that would finally rid you of this hellish world. That is until one of your men saved you, slicing the fingers that are wrapped around your torso and harshly tossed you to the side and out of harm's way.

   You froze in horror, unable to recover your mental state after being a hair's width to cessation.

   "Lieutenant (____)! Take my horse and esca—" was their last words before the titan bit of their head. The beast looming over their figure, a sickening grin adorned their face as saliva trickled down its chin. It let out a small grunt of pleasure, gulping down the severed head of your comrade. Their lifeless body slowly slumped down until they fell with a thud against the grass. Dirt mixed with fresh blood dirtied their pristine white shirt they wore along with the Survey Corps uniform.

   You felt so useless. . .so powerless.

   The scene played inside your thoughts like a broken record playing in repeat. Over and over again. . .

   It was a nightmare much worse than those you have in your sleep. No. . . this is reality. This was actually happening right before your eyes. With a shaky hand, you brought it up to cup your cheek, smearing blood all over it as you lightly pinched yourself to confirm that you are actually awake and are not simply dreaming.

   You wanted to save your squad—your friends whom you trained and joked with back inside the walls. The very same people who were assigned to you by Erwin.  But you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

   Your body wouldn't budge.

   It was as if fate was tricking with you—letting time slow down for you to witness the horrific scene before you. You wanted to take a break, just a brief moment to recollect your thoughts and congregate yourself to fight back against the titans. You wanted to fight back; to slice the nape of the titan that killed most of your squad. But you find yourself unable to. Shoulders slumping down in defeat, eyes swimming with salty tears, and mouth so dry like those desserts Armin spoke of.

    As the titan's hands hover above, your life flashed before you. Recounting your most joyous moments from childhood to adulthood. Like that one time your mother gave you a hand-sewn doll for your birthday. Or when you got accepted to the Survey Corps despite your family's protests.

    You'll die a terrible death, they say. It's safer inside the walls.

    But you defied them, enlisting your name the moment it was announced that the military branch was recruiting a new set of soldiers for the next expedition happening in a few months. Your first time outside the walls was different.

    Instead of puking everywhere and shaking in your horse, you felt strangely calm and excited. Not only that but you also easily killed the titans coming your way. Which in return shocked the higher-ups and eventually gave you your own squad a few months later due to your pure skill.

    But perhaps the most memorable event in your life was meeting your fiance, Levi Ackerman. You met him a few years back—when he was still a fresh new recruit just like you. His skills with the 3d maneuver gear were no joke. The male looked so graceful whilst swinging from tree to tree. Moving as fast as sound as he sliced off the napes of giant beasts that dared come close to him.

    You idolized him at first—looking up to him in astonishment and hopes that one day, you would also possess the same prowess as him. Perhaps being on par with him in speed and killing titans was your goal. And so you set out to accomplish that ambition of yours; training every day until you pass out from exhaustion, harnessing your skills in hand-to-hand combat, and of course, improving your technique in using the 3d maneuver gear.

     That surely got his interest, because months later Levi started to acknowledge you more. Whether it was a simple nod and greeting when both of you passed each other in the hallways. Visiting you in your room when he knew a friend of yours died during the expedition. And of course, Levi bringing you tea to your office in the wee hours of the morning whilst you are drowning in piles and piles of paperwork.

    Before you knew it, you and he confessed to each other one night. You remembered it as clear as day. There were no clouds that moment, letting the moon shine brightly and provide light to the dimmest corners of the base. The stars were also out, glimmering in a rhythmic pattern that you grew to love.

    I think I have feelings for you. . .romantic ones, you first confessed to him. Your hands bawled up in a tight fist, your eyes screwed shut, and heart hammering against your chest in anticipation of his answer. Much to your delight, he reciprocated your feelings.

    That's good to hear, you swore there was a small smile. I feel the same way.

    You relish in the memories of you and Levi inside his office. Every activity with him makes your heart swell and heat rush to your face. Being with Levi makes you forget the horrors of the world offers and instead replace it with comfort and blissful moments. Whether it was a simple trip downtown, spontaneous cuddle sessions when no one was around, and of course the pleasure-filled occasions with him behind the closed door of his office.

    You treasured every moment inside your heart. And you would do whatever it takes to experience those once again.

    What you were going to do was obviously a suicide mission—you should've just taken a horse just like what your comrade said. But you are one stubborn one.

    Despite your body screaming in pain and agony, you won't die in vain. No, you'll stand up and fight back. Levi is expecting you to return back home intact and alive. You fired the hooks in a nearby tree, reeling yourself towards it before releasing it. There was a brief moment you're flying in the air. Everything was silent save for you hearing your own clamoring heartbeat against your rib cage. You've managed to escape in the nick of time, the titan's fists closing in the area where you once were. You could've died right then and there if it weren't for you acting quickly.

    Your eyes clouded with rage, you fired the hooks once again, only this time to the nape of the beast. In one fell swoop, its nape detached itself from the rest of the body.  A grunt escaped past your lips, an electric-like shot of pain coursed your veins. Air whistled past your ears as your velocity pushed you towards the side. Somehow in the process of killing the titan, its blood splattered on your face as well clothes.

    With immediate effect, mind you, as small wisps of smoke emerged from your clothes. A sign that the blood is vaporizing. You kept your eyes low, staring at the gaping mouth of the now-deceased beast. Within a few minutes, its once strong skin would disintegrate. Turning into piles of bones that, if given more time, would also fall apart. Like a bubble bursting into nothingness once in contact with air.

    You let out a small sigh of relief, letting your knees buckle and come in contact with the ground. It was a miracle that you could move despite your wounds.

    Though, you celebrated all too early.

    A shiver went down your spine as you heard the loud thumping behind. You whipped your head to the sound, eyes widening as a titan much bigger than the one you have killed was making its way towards you. Their mouth was stretched in an eerie smile, body covered with blood—with what you presumed was human's from another group of soldiers. Perhaps it heard the commotion and as such ventured towards the sound.

    "Shit. . ." you cursed, finally realizing that you were out of gas and the blades are dull. The horses, as you observed earlier, were injured and some ran away. Even the one your comrade left for you was long gone, nowhere to be seen.

    You imagined death so much it feels like a memory. Is this where it gets you? On your knees while the titan several feet ahead of you. You see it coming as clear as day, the surroundings a blur as you fixed attention on the beast. Do you run? Do you scream? Do you close your eyes and accept death? Though, you knew all too well that with your cracked ribs and injury, you wouldn't run as far.

    You chose the latter.

    Hands releasing the blades, you closed your eyes as you embraced the impending death.

    When the titan wrapped its fingers around your finger, you kept your mouth shut. Not even a scream escaping past. Your breath hitched, breathing in the godawful stench as the beast opened its mouth. Perhaps salivating at the thought of gnawing at your flesh.

    A choice with no regrets, that is what Levi said. True, you had a lot of regrets throughout your life, but you would never regret meeting him and enjoying every moment with him. Even if it was brief and shortcoming, you cherished it. Though, you truly did hope you would see his face once again. To relish under his touch. To hear his voice once more. Oh, how you wished you bid farewell before you take your final breath.

    You cried in pain as its teeth slowly sunk into your flesh, your lower half of the body bit by bit being detached from the rest. Tears streamed down your cheeks. This was finally it. The moment wherein you would take your last breath and leave this hellish reality.

    That is, until a strong gust of wind passed by.

    "(____)!!" you knew the voice all too well. It was Levi's.

    You opened your eyes, realizing now that the male had successfully killed the beast and is now carrying you in his arms. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising up and down vehemently. "You—" he started. Fear danced in his eyes, perhaps tears clouding his vision despite his attempts to keep it at bay. It was a rare sight to see Levi crying, usually, only a handful of people get to witness it. That said, you were always the one to comfort him in his darkest nights.

    Levi carefully set you down, letting you lay down on the grass. "Don't you dare close your eyes, (____)!!" he pleaded. Hands clasping your shoulder blades.

    "The others are coming this way—" he fought back a sob. "Just—just keep your eyes open long enough."

    But you and he knew all too well that the deep gash in your abdomen as a result of the titan sinking its teeth is far too severe to be treated. The damage has already been done, it would be magic if the medic could heal you. Still, Levi clung to that hope that you would survive. That you would be back in the walls with him just in time for the wedding to happen after the expedition.

    Levi was frantic. Unsure of what to do in seeing you in such a state he knew would be far-fetched to heal.

    A minute.

    He deduced that with your injury and blood continuously pouring out, you would still have a minute or two with him before you leave for good. Levi hated the thought of losing you. He blamed himself for letting you separate from him for this mission. So when he was informed that a titan wreaked havoc upon you and your squad, Levi did not think twice in changing directions in order to check up on you.

    If only he was fast enough. If only he could turn back the time so Levi could save you in the nick of time before the titan drilled its teeth unto your flesh. But he knew all too well that what has happened has already been done. So for one last time, he'll make sure that the time spent with you would leave no regrets.

    In contrast to him, love and mirth danced in your eyes, sparkling like a radiant summer sun glistening and being reflected on a puddle of water. Carefully and somewhat sluggish, you raised your hand to cup Levi's cheeks. Your thumb caressing his skin that you love oh so much.

    "I'm glad I could see your face one last time. . ." you murmured under your breath, too weak to raise your voice.

    Levi tightened his grip on your shoulders, this is it. The moment he'll lose another loved one yet again. "Save your energy. Don't you dare leave me," he spat.

    "Levi. . ." you chuckled despite the pain. "You and I both know that I wouldn't make it in time. . ."

    His broken expression made you wish this was all a dream.

    "So. . ." you trailed off. "Just hold my hand, please?"

   You blinked as black spots danced in her eyes. You were getting sleepy though ironically your body can't rest. The pain in your lower half was gone but when you tried moving, the pain emerged again. It somehow finds a way to wake you up. It was as if fate knew to keep you awake just to have one final moment with your beloved.

    Levi closed his eyes, finally accepting reality and abiding by your request. With shaky hands, he clasped yours quite harshly. He was not ready to lose you.

    "I'll see you in another time. . ." he slowly spoke. "We'll meet each other again and I'll find you."

    One tear slid down your cheek, "Yeah. . . See you."

   You woke up with a start, eyes flying open and you gasping for breath.

    The room was dark, save for the small light given by the sun which was shielded by the floral curtain. A blue vase etched with gold ethnic marks and aster flowers in it sat at the windowsill. The first thing you registered was the feeling of cotton against your skin and the dark surroundings of your room. Slowly, you moved into a sitting position, your body feeling light as if you are floating in thin air.

    That dream of yours had been reoccurring more often, plaguing your thoughts every night as you hit the haystack and welcome the sweet embrace of sleep—as if some outward forces want to tell you something.

    You were in a trance—fog clouding your brain as you recalled. Distantly, your fingers ran over the soft cotton blanket, you can't help but feel like you were forgetting something.

Something important.

    It was odd enough that giant naked men are desolating the lands; eating every human that comes across its way. But the thought of actually fighting it using a device far too technical for you to understand is what makes it absurd. That one particular scene keeps replaying over and over again when you sleep. You are confused—flabbergasted even. Though, it could only point to one answer.

    It was a hand maiden's tale. A story passed down from generation to generation that the person constantly reappearing in your dreams was your soulmate. Though you wanted to believe that, it was a slim chance that it could actually be true. For starters, you were not a superstitious person—you believed in facts and data instead of made-up tales by who knows who. Still, something deep inside you was screaming that the male in your dreams was your destined beloved.

   So as you strolled down the halls of the campus, you can’t help but let your thoughts drift off to the dream that incessantly appears at night. It was yet another day of you visiting the library to check if there are any new books added to the catalog. It may seem a nerd-ish move, but who could blame you? Thousands upon thousands of books right at your fingertips that you could easily access for free. Who wouldn’t want free books?

    The soft beep of the monitor lets you know that your ID card has been scanned and as such recorded that you have, yet again, visited the library. As you stepped inside the room, there are a couple of students slumped over the tables. Their laptops opened, notes sprawled out, and multiple pens scattered around. Despite the obvious studious set-up, half of them are on their phone or sleeping. Talk about slacking off.

    Shaking your head, you opted to walk straight into the fiction section where you spend most of your time scouring each shelf in search of a new adventure. Though, you halted momentarily as an unfamiliar figure came into view. They were searching for something—at least that is what you presumed given their furrowed eyebrows and the occasional curse underneath their breath.

   It is such a rare sight to see someone other than you in the fiction aisle. Mainly since most students would be in other sections searching for biographies, dissertations, and old literature stuff that would aid them in their studies. At first, you thought it was Arlert, the freshman you met a couple of months back when both of you happen to stumble upon each other. The male happens to be searching for a specific sci-fi book. Luckily, you had practically memorized each shelf in the fiction section. As such, you helped him find the novel he desires. Before you knew it, you and he had become close friends that would occasionally talk to each other about books both of you enjoy.

   But that isn’t the case this time. Armin’s iconic blond hair wasn’t in sight. Instead, onyx black in an undercut hairstyle is what greeted you. Wait a minute—he exactly looks like the male in your dreams.

   You stepped closer, quiet as to not disturb or startle him. When you got close to the figure, you concluded that, indeed, he is the male in your dreams; quite literally and figuratively.

   True, he is the exact spitting image of the male you’ve been seeing every night when you’re fast asleep. But also he is exactly your type; sharp jawline that could probably cut your finger, steel gray eyes that look oh so mysterious, and saints, the way you could see small veins on his pale hand drives you crazy.

   “Uhmm. . .do you need help?” you voiced out without thinking twice. You had to slap yourself internally when the male turned around to glare at you.

   He rose a brow, eyes trailing from head to toe as if questioning you what are you doing.

   “Ah—uhm. I didn’t mean to startle you but I am quite familiar with this section so maybe I could help you with what you are looking for.”

   The male narrowed his eyes at you, lips pressed into a thin line. Both of you shared silence, the distant hum of the air conditioner was the only thing you could hear. “What happened to Lori,” he abruptly spoke which perplexed you.

   “What. . ?”

   “I am looking for the second book of ‘What happened to Lori’. Do you know where that is?”

   Your mouth fell open in realization as to what he was pertaining to. It was the exact book that you bought a week ago after finding out that the library doesn’t have the second book to the duology. It was a hefty price, but all was worth it since the story is all too intriguing to be left behind in book one. You needed answers and a continuation, and as such bought the second book online.

   “The second book isn’t actually available. . .” you explained. The male cursed under his breath, something about the library being a useless piece of shit that was stupid enough to not buy the second book considering it was a duology.

   The very book he is looking for is inside your bag. Frankly, you only finished it halfway so you were not too sure if you want to let him borrow it. But, with one look at the male, you can’t help but be amazed at how he is the carbon copy of the person that keeps appearing in your dreams.

   You weren’t a superstitious person, but could this male be your soulmate?

   He was about to leave you, that is until you called out to him. “But I have the second book with me,” you stammered. If it means that you would get to see him again and perhaps know some answers, then you are more than willing to lend him your book. “You could borrow it if you want. . .?”

   The male looked at you from the corner of his eye, observing the way you fidget in your place and how you refused to look at him directly in the eye by continuously letting your gaze shift from book to book on the shelves.

   “If that’s fine with you, then sure.”

   With shaky hands, you frantically fished inside your bag in an attempt to look for the book. He was silent as you pulled out the said item and handed it over to him. The male, with astonishment dancing in his eyes, took the book from your hands and examined its cover and pages.

   “Have. . .have I seen you somewhere before?” you dared ask, eager to confirm if you were plain hallucinating or perhaps the soulmate-thing is indeed true. That, suppose, you also appear in his dreams every night. It was far-fetched, but you were ambitious to find out answers.

   The male let out one drained sigh, irritation washed over his features. “Look, if you are trying to hit on me then I’m not interested.”

   Wait, what? You weren’t—

   “I-I’m not!” you stammered, hands flailing around. “I just thought you look familiar.”

   He opened his mouth to respond but was cut short when the deafening clap of the thunder followed by a flash of light interrupted him. Both of you looked out the window to see the sky as black as tar, clouded by dark gray nimbus clouds as small drops of rain fell to the ground. Then it gradually got heavy all too soon.

   The color drained from your face as you realized that you forgot to bring an umbrella today. Not only that but you were totally unprepared for the sudden change in weather given that you were wearing a thin shirt.

   You bit your lip, brows curling up at the thought of shivering as you wait for the rain to dissipate. If anything, you totally despise the cold and how it makes your nose all runny and hair stand. Internally scolding yourself, you made a mental note to always check the weather update before going out of your dorm.

   “Tch. . .” the male clicked his tongue. “Here.”

   You were surprised to feel the soft fabric of his jacket draped over your shoulders, giving you warmth. Did he just—did he just gave you his jacket?

   “You’re shivering like a fucking wet dog,” he explained. “So wear that. . .”

   A flush crept up your face as the musky scent of his cologne with a hint of artificial fragrance from what you presumed is the smell of cleaning products wafted through your nose. You’ve got to say, this jacket of his truly is comfortable. With it being lined with cotton on the inside, the thick wool serving as a second layer for warmth, and the exquisite color combination of forest green and gold of the clothing. Slowly, you slipped your arms inside the sleeves and tucking your hands deep inside its pockets. Oddly enough, it fits you just well given—not too big nor small.

   The male turned on his heel, about to take his leave, again, without bidding you farewell. But you grabbed onto his sleeve just in time before he could leave the vicinity.

   “When—uhh—when can I return this?”

   He looked at you with a confused expression, as if asking if you are dumb or whatnot. “Isn’t that obvious?”

   “What I mean is, oh gods, I don’t have any ways to contact you whatsoev—“

   “So you want my number?”

   Someone please kill me right now, you whimpered.

    “What? No, I was ju—“

   “Yeah, yeah I get it. Hurry up and give me your phone,” the male pulled out his phone, expecting you to do the same.

   The audacity of this guy. He has to be a lady’s man or whatever to be this haughty.

   With a shaky breath, you and him both exchange numbers. Mind in a frenzy at the thought of seeing him again and perhaps that wouldn’t be the last time.

   “Uhmm. . .So I guess I’ll return the jacket to you once you’ve finished the book. . .?”

   Ah, there is that feeling again that keeps pestering you—a thought on the back of your mind.

   "Yeah, I'll give the book back to you eventually," he spoke. "I'll see you in another time. . ."

   "Yeah. . .” you breathed, calming yourself to prevent blood rushing to your cheeks. “See you.”

   A hunch that you have already met him in the past; a fragment in time.

part 2 (?)

[itsallyscorner]

Ik someone else already asked for like a delivery part (and honestly, that would be amazing. Like imagine the girls reacting to Baby Mix casually dropping it in their chat). But, also imagine Tom and Y/N haven’t released anything to the public and Perrie (my loose-lipped queen) let’s it spill over a virtual interview or something, how chaotic would that be????

Anyway, I truly loved your Baby Mix stories. You’re combining two of my favourite things so effortlessly. Thank you💜💜💜

Hello my love! So sorry for the long wait, I hope you don’t mind! Thank you for requesting this and being so patient with me❤️ I’m so glad you’re enjoying the Little Mix reader! stories🥰 I haven’t written a delivery part yet but I already had an idea of how I wanted to write this so...here ya go! Happy reading🤎🧸

💌.

Meet Aunty Pez

She would be the best aunty in the world, ugh🥺 Also I’m so sorry I haven’t been active, school has been keeping me busy, but hopefully it’ll ease up soon! Sending all my love to all of you💞

At 3:14am, on an early Monday morning, the bundle of joy that you and Tom have been waiting nine months for has finally arrived. After hours of enduring pain and labor, Amelia May Holland was born. Weighing at 7.5 lbs, she had the same bright chocolate colored eyes as her father, gorgeous brown hair, a mix of your and Tom’s nose, and thankfully she inherited your lips. She was a precious little thing, always cradled in the arms of either of her parents, since they both couldn’t believe she was finally in the real world with them.

The sun casted soft rays of light into the hospital room you and your little family occupied. The warm light added to the peaceful atmosphere you were all currently in. You were sat against the hospital bed, cradling Amelia in your arms, while you and Tom stared at her in fascination. You lean your head against Tom’s shoulder, eyes never leaving your baby girl, who’s nose momentarily scrunched up.

Softly chuckling, you glance at Tom, “Not even a day old and she’s already doing a habit of yours.” The gentle smile grows even wider on Tom’s lips, a sense of pride rushing through his veins.

“Well she’s definitely her father’s daughter.” He hums, his arm around your shoulder pulls you flush against his chest. Tom hides his face in the crook of your neck, placing feather light kisses onto your skin trailing down to your shoulder, where he rests his chin.

“I can’t believe we made her. Isn’t she the most gorgeous baby in the world?” He speaks in a hushed voice, cautious of startling his newborn daughter awake. He gazes at Amelia with a fond expression on his face, large fingers gingerly reaching out to softly stroke the back of his baby’s hand. She’s only been here a few hours and she’s already wrapped him around her dainty little fingers. He would go to extreme measures to do anything for her and to make sure she lived the best life she can. She was to be treated like a princess in his eyes; because she was his princess and you’ve been bumped up to be his queen.

“She’s all we’ve ever wanted.” You turn to face Tom over your shoulder. The whole morning, ever since you gave birth, the two of you spent most of the time admiring Amelia and would burst into tears at how proud you were of each other. Not only had you both just made the most precious baby in the world, but this was a new chapter in your lives. A new experience of life with a stronger bond, full of love, and years of memories that’ll be looked back on in the future.

Tom shifts his gaze to you, the look in his eyes changing to adoration. He tenderly kisses your lips, repeating the actions a few more times before speaking. “Thank you so much for this. Thank you for being an amazing wife and giving me a family. I love you so, so, so, so, much. You have no idea.” He brushes his nose against yours, shutting his eyes, to savor the meaningful moment.

“I wouldn’t be doing this with anyone else but you. You’re gonna be such an amazing dad.” You beam at him. Tom softly chuckles, leaning his forehead against your temple, “God, I hope.”

“You will, you’ll be the best one in her eyes. I already know it.” You reassure him, pecking the corner of his mouth. You turn your attention back to Amelia, who was still sleeping peacefully in your arms.

“So when should we tell everyone?” Tom asks, resting his chin on your shoulder again. You lean the back of your head against his shoulder, making yourself comfortable in his arms.

“I think we should tell our family and friends first. I’m not ready to share her to the public yet, I want her to only be ours for now.” You quietly explain. You feel Tom smile against your skin.

“Of course, darling. Whatever you’re most comfortable with, that’s what we’ll go with.”

(Y/n)🌻: sent a photo

We thought Amelia might want to pop in and say hello to her favorite aunties for the first time!❤️

Perrie🦋: oh my goodness! Congratulations🥳🥳 I’m over the moon for the both of you!!

Oh she’s precious! Look at those cheeks!! I can’t wait to meet her🥺

Jade💜: OMG WE SHARE THE SAME NAME!!

I’m so happy for you and Tom!! You guys are going to be the most amazing parents in the world!❤️

Leigh-Anne😻: Baby Amelia, you are the most adorable baby I’ve ever seen!!!😍 Babe, you and Tom have some really good genes👀

Congrats you two!! I’m so proud of you both❤️❤️❤️

Jesy💖: Thank god Amelia got (y/n)’s genes for her lips!!😂😂 I can’t imagine another loose-lipped Holland!

I’m so happy for you guys!! I can’t believe you’re already a mum, darling🥺 We love you so much and can’t wait to see you and Baby Amelia❤️

(Y/n)🌻: You guys🥺🥺 I can’t wait to see you all and get out of this hospital! This bed isn’t doing anything for my back😭

Perrie🦋: You must be so exhausted lovey, how are you doing? I hope everything went well during delivery!

(Y/n)🌻: Very painful, I felt like I was about to pass out omg😭 The doctor kept on telling me to push, I didn’t know if I was shitting myself or pushing the baby out😭

Tom’s been amazing the entire time. Bless him, I think I broke his hand while I was pushing :(

Jesy💖: Omg!! What was Tom’s reaction to childbirth?!!

(Y/n)🌻: If you thought he couldn’t get even paler, you thought wrong! He was as white as the walls in the room😭😭 He was a good sport through it all though!

Also, Amelia’s crying. I’ve got to go, I’ll talk to you girls soon!! And good luck with the interview today, you guys are gonna smash it xx

Perrie🦋: Don’t worry about us! You’re officially on maternity leave now! We’ll send your regards for the interviewer❤️

Leigh-Anne😻: Look at our baby mama! We love you❤️❤️❤️

Jade💜: Say hello to baby Amelia and that Aunty Jade loves her🥰

Jesy💖: ^Kiss ass, she’s not even a day old and the competition for best Aunty has already begun smh.

Bye darling, we’ll catch up with you soon❤️

You smiled at your screen before turning it off and placing it onto the table beside your bed. Tom was pacing the room, cradling Amelia against his chest. He was gently rocking her back and forth, alternating from shushing her to humming some sort of tune underneath his breath. You sat back and admired the curly headed boy that’s claimed your heart. Not only was he the love of your life but he was also the father of your child. Sure you guys were young, both in your late 20s, but the daddy role definitely fit Tom perfectly.

Tom must’ve felt your stare because he turned around and sent you a tired smile. He walked towards your bed and motioned for you to lay down. Using one had to cradle Amelia, he used the other to help you get comfy in the hospital bed. Still with one hand, he fixed your hair on the pillow so that it was away from your face. His large calloused hand cradled your jaw, “Get some sleep, darling. I know how tired you are.”

You pouted at him, “But what about Amelia?” He shook his head, his thumb stroking your cheek, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll try and get her to sleep. You just close your pretty eyes and get some rest in.”

“What if she’s hungry?”

“If she doesn’t fall asleep, then I’ll wake you up. Just please get some sleep, love. You haven’t taken a proper nap since this morning and I know you’re already close to knocking out.” He reasoned with pleading eyes. You sigh finally giving in, lazily nodding in response. Tom beams at you and leans down to place a tender kiss onto your lips.

“I love you both.” You mumble against his lips. He pecks your lips once more, “And we love you too, mummy.” The moment you closed your eyes, you were out like a light.

You managed to take a nap for about half an hour until you felt a few pats on your shoulder. You were immediately awake, turning your head to look for Amelia. You looked at the hospital bassinet, where you could see her sleeping peacefully.

“What’s wrong?” You ask Tom. He was sat beside your bed with his phone held in his hand watching something.

“I’m so sorry for waking you, but you should see this.” He apologized with a pitiful smile. He scoots closer to the bed so you can look at the screen. Your brows furrow together in question as you stare at Tom; it was the girls’ interview.

“Just watch.”

“Hello ladies! Thank you for joining me today!” The interviewer started. A round of “hellos” and waves were seen on the recorded Zoom session.

“Thank you for having us!” Leigh-Anne said.

“Yeah, it’s always a pleasure to be on your show, Zach.” Jade gushed. Zach made a show of flattery making them all laugh.

“I mean I guess I should start by asking how are all of you?”

Jesy was the first to answer, “I’d say we’re all doing pretty good, aren’t we girls? You know—just trying to get by especially with all that’s going on in the world.”

Perrie agreed, “Yeah, we’re lucky enough to be healthy and have the privilege to work. So I’d say we’re very blessed and making the best out of situation.”

“That’s great for you girls. AND speaking of making the best of the situation, thank you for giving us entertainment! I’ve been watching The Search and I’m absolutely obsessed.” Zach began, complimenting the show. He continued, “Although I did notice, that there’s only four of you at the moment, and in the show. How is it like to not have (y/n) around?”

Jesy pouted, the other girls having familiar reactions at the lack of your presence.

“As much as we miss her, it’s best for her and the baby to stay home and away from the public. When it comes to your career or family; family comes first, so it was totally understandable.” Jesy explained.

Jade chirped in, “Well, she’s not completely missing out. She’s had a few virtual appearances on the show and we’ve all been in contact, we always know what she’s up to.”

“How’s she doing? With the baby preparations and all?” Zach asked the girls. Their faces immediately brightened with joy, especially Perrie how squealed and clapped her hands in delight.

“Oh she’s doing wonderful, we were just texting her! She’s officially on maternity leave!” Perrie cheered. On the screen, Jesy eyed Perrie warily.

“Officially on maternity leave?”

Perrie smiled widely, “Yes, she is! She sent us a photo of the baby in our group chat and my goodness! Their baby is so cute, I just want to pinch her little cheeks!”

The three other girls’ eyes widened at the things coming out of Perrie’s mouth too stunned to say anything.

Zach squinted at Perrie, “Wait she’s already had the baby?”

“PERRIE!”

“Yeah, today actually.” The blonde answered proudly.

“PERRIE SHUT UP!”

“STOP TALKING!”

Perrie stopped, looking at the three girls offendedly, “What?”

“Oh my god, she did not.” Leigh-Anne facepalmed herself. Jade’s jaw was slack and Jesy’s eyes were wide with horror.

“Babe, do you know what you just did?” Jesy questioned Perrie, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose in stress.

You paused the video, taking in what just happened.

Tom eyed you carefully, “Your phone’s been blowing up consistently. Pez even called me to apologize, she feels really bad (y/n).”

You frowned knowing that Perrie was most likely upset at herself. You’ve been friends with Perrie for years now. It was common knowledge amongst you and the girls that if something big and secretive were to happen, you were to never tell Perrie. Not that you all wanted to leave her out on propose, she just didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut. When Perrie found things that made her happy or excited, she didn’t know how to contain her happiness. So it wasn’t completely a surprise to learn she’s told the world you and Tom were finally parents.

Tom noticed that you were still quiet, “Are you mad, darling?”

You shook your head, “No—no, I’m not mad at her. I know Perrie can get too excited sometimes.”

“So you’re okay with this?” Tom asked you, knowing that just an hour ago you said you wanted to keep Amelia away from the public. His hand reaches for yours, grasping it.

You tilted your head at the ceiling, “Yeah, I guess I am? I mean it’s not like she said Amelia’s name or anything. All she told them was that I gave birth already.” You paused and turned to look at Tom.

“Plus, I think she’s saved us the trouble of figuring out how to tell the world about Amelia.” You send him a smile. He reciprocates the action and brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “We don’t have to tell them anything more. All they have to know is that you’ve given birth and our little princess is healthy. Also that we’re very happy. The rest of the details will only be for us. For now.”

“For now.” You confirmed squeezing his hand. You glanced at your phone and motioned for Tom to give it to you. Scrolling through your contacts you clicked on Perrie’s name, “I guess we should call her and thank her.”

You clicked on the FaceTime icon and not even a second later, Perrie immediately answered the call.

“I am so sorry.” She apologized, hand covering her face. You chuckle at her and shake your head, “We’re actually calling you to thank you Pez.”

Her face contorts into confusion, “What do you mean thank me? I just exposed the two of you during a live interview.”

Tom poked his head into frame, “Well one, you’ve announced that Amelia’s here already, so that’s one thing off our list. And two, you just saved me months worth of relief during interviews. Now that everyone knows we have a baby, I don’t need to be scared of accidentally slipping it out when I have to do promos!”

The blonde looked between both you and Tom I’m disbelief, “Are you kidding me? If I knew you two would’ve responded this way I wouldn’t have been spending the last hour beating myself up for it.”

You laughed smiling at her. Perrie beamed at the both of you, “For just delivering a baby, you look gorgeous hun. You’re glowing.”

“Aw thank you, lovey.” You look at Amelia from the corner of your eye. “Do you wanna see her?” Perrie eagerly nods at the camera. Tom takes the camera and rounds your bed to the bassinet. Aiming the camera above Amelia he said, “Amelia, meet Aunty Pez.”

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[thegryffindorprincess]

Too Hasty//Draco Malfoy x Reader

A/N: OKAY I’M SO SORRY I JUST LEFT THE WHOLE PLATFORM FOR LIKE A MONTH! Basically, I caught covid-19 (lmao) and have been dying for a few weeks, but today was my first day out of my uni halls and first day back in lessons so I’m back for now. Here’s a cute ass little story for you all, I will be back x

Word Count: 1,818

Set: Post War

Warnings: Literally none, just cute

Harry Potter stood in the door way of the dining room at the back of Grimmauld Place fondly, looking at the people sitting around the table. Hermione and Ron were sat together reading, him noticing her grinning slightly when Ron needed to read a passage of text out loud to understand what it was he was reading. His eyes shifted to George, Luna and Neville who were attempting to balance as many goblets on top of each other as possible, erupting into a fit of giggles when it fell, Luna casually flicking her wand before they made a large bang on the table. He also watched his fiance, Ginny coo at Teddy Tonks who was babbling away in his high chair, using the few words he knew to communicate that he was demanding more pumpkin juice. And finally, Harry smiled as Draco Malfoy attempted to spoon feed Teddy some very odd looking green paste that he’d read encourages toddlers motor skills. When their eyes met they shared a very understanding glance. Teddy giggled as the goop touched his nose, spraying some of it onto Draco, causing the blonde man to grimace slightly but smile at the small boy instead. Harry moved towards the table and began to stack the plates onto one another, moving them into the kitchen.

“Hey Harry, let me help you.” Draco said, wiping Teddy’s dribbling mouth, going to stand, starting to pick up a few of the plates. Harry smiled at him thankfully and the two of them began to wash up the dishes in the kitchen. Harry Potter liked this Draco Malfoy and was amazed at the man he had grown up to be. Since the war- and since Harry had saved him from a stint in Azkaban, Draco had devoted himself to things that brought the world good. He’d trained long and hard to become a Healer, helping to care for vunerable people who were affected by the war, he’d taken on Teddy as his own son, moving in with the Order of the Pheonix to not only care for his second cousin every day but to help his new found friends with their fight against dark magic. Everything about his new life appeared to be perfect, except one thing. As Draco and Harry finished off drying Teddy’s “Chudley Cannon’s” bowl, brought for him by Ron, the shrill sound of the door bell sounded throughout the hall. Harry jumped a little, excusing himself from the others and walked towards the door, right hand resting on his wand that was stuck out of his pocket. He flung the door open. The cool air from the evening night hit his face and a figure that had been waiting patiently away from the door turned to face him.

“Harry!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in. Y/N Y/L/N was stood in the weak evening sunlight, her skin glowing. Her features were so gentle that they seemed painted, her hair was done up, wand stuck through it. She was grinning from ear to ear, skin tanned. 

“Y/N! Come in, come in. You must tell us where you’ve been!” Harry helped her in, taking her suitcases and resting them by the staircase. Y/N entered Grimmauld Place, taking in how much it had brightened up and changed since the last time she’d visited. She wondered into the dining room, exchanging hugs and greetings with her friends, all of them exclaiming how amazing she looked and how much they’d missed her. She smiled back at them all, thanking them for their kindness. 

“Oh it’s been amazing! Paris was just beautiful I am so glad I went. I feel like I’ve finally got over-” Y/N stopped suddenly, looking over to the figure who’d just emerged from the kitchen. Draco had been hiding in the darkness of the kitchen, but now was stood awkwardly in the dining room’s light. “Draco.” She breathed, finishing her sentence. He waved a little, throwing her a tiny smile. She didn’t respond. Pretending she hadn’t seen it, she continued with her anecdote, animatedly telling the group about her world traveling, her visit to most of the wizarding Ministries of Magic and her new career editing the Daily Prophet. The group listened intensely, hanging on her every word, Hermione keeping her eye on Draco as he stared nervously at his feet, remaining at the door. Y/N also told Teddy about the creatures she’d met from other countries, taking pride in the way he glowed. The conversation came to an end.

“Will you be staying Y/N?” Ginny asked grinning, “please say you’re staying!” Y/N laughed at her best friend.

“If it’s not any trouble, I can always go to the Leaky Caul-”

“No way.” Hermione said firmly, “you must stay here.” With that, Hermione took Y/N’s hand and led her up the stairs, Ginny and Luna following behind. Hermione took them into one of the spare bedrooms, where Luna’s bed was already set up and waved her wand, creating a new blow-up style bed on the floor. Y/N thanked her gently, throwing her heavy bags down by the dresser. The girls stayed for a while, making themselves comfortable in the room. They sat in silence.

“I didn’t know Draco was living with you now.” Y/N said quietly, making sure her face remained neutral. 

“Yeah,” Hermione said, fidgiting with her sleeves, “he’s lived with us ever since his charges were dropped.” Y/N nodded quickly, going back to unpacking her bags. 

“I’m sure Y/N doesn’t want to be bored by chat of her ex fiance.” Ginny slightly snapped, pulling Hermione with her, nearing the door. “We’ll let you sleep now, goodnight girls.”

Once they left, Y/N and Luna got ready for bed, exchanging slight chat as they did so, Luna very interested in Y/N’s travels.

“You know,” said Luna quietly as they both snuggled up into the covers, “Draco really is quite different now.” Before turning over and closing her eyes dreamily. Y/N huffed a little, turning over herself.

“Let’s not be too hasty.” Y/N mumbled, huffing again before going to sleep.

XXXX

The morning came quickly for Y/N who’d spent most of the night awake. At five in the morning, she slipped out of bed, putting on her dressing gown and gently plopping down the stairs. She wandered into the kitchen quietly, trying not to disturb the sleeping house. As she went towards the kettle, a figure moved out into the light, causing her to jump slightly. 

“Draco!” She whispered, clutching her chest. He smiled at her softly, a small baby bottle in his hand, which he was shaking. 

“How are you?” Draco asked, running a pale hand through his platinum hair, letting it hang messily in front of his eyes. “I feel like yesterday was a bit of a um shock for us both.” Y/N looked awkwardly, filling the kettle up with water, tapping it with her wand.

“Yeah it was a little odd, I mean last time I saw you you were a death eater and now you’re some kind of fucking saint.” As the words left her mouth, she watched his face fall. Her hands shot up to her mouth. “I’m sorry....I-”

“I can hear Teddy crying for his bottle,” Draco whispered horsely, pushing past her as he left the kitchen, “I’ll see you later.” Y/N watched him leave, unsure of what to say. She continued to make her tea, eyes threatening to spill tears as she sat at the table. Her owl flew in through the window, dropping the Daily Prophet onto the table top. She thanked it, before settling down to read in the morning sunlight.

XXXX

When the rest of the house arose, they were rushing around getting ready for work. Knowing Draco would be staying home all day with Teddy, some of the gangs attempted to haul her to work with them, George explaining how much he’d love to have her at the shop, Ginny saying that Y/N would be more than welcome to help referee, but she politely rejected all of them. They left one after another, all looking very important and busy. As Ron shut the door behind him, the last one to leave, the house fell into a sudden silence. Y/N watched from the dining room as Draco played with Teddy, teaching him letters from a small leather bound book. His face was painted in a gentle happiness as he watched the small boy fondly, running his hands through his dark locks. She watched closely as Teddy’s eyes began to flutter close, Draco hauling him up onto the sofa and covering him in a blanket from the chest on the floor. As Draco placed a small kiss on his forehead, Y/N entered, settling on the living room floor and tidying some of Teddy’s toys away.

“Leave that,” Draco said, swatting her away, “I’ve got it.” Y/N shuffled awkwardly from him, letting him squish past to grab the toys. 

“I wanted to say sorry.” Y/N began, looking Draco in the eyes for the first time since last night, “You didn’t deserve that. I shouldn’t have spoken to you in that way.” Draco nodded, continuing to tidy up the floor. 

“I’ve not stopped thinking about you.” He slightly whispered. Y/N felt like she’d stopped breathing for a moment. “Not dated, not kissed, not,” he lowered his voice, looking over to Teddy to ensure he was asleep, “fucked anybody else.” 

“Really?” She asked. “Neither have I for the record I couldn’t.” Draco swallowed, looking down at her, where she sat on the floor. 

“I kept my promise to you.” Y/N cocked her head a little confused. He rolled up his sleeve, showing her the nearly faded dark mark that still lay in his skin. “I will counter act my evil until my mark disappears for you.” Her mouth fell open as she watched how he flinched at the sight of his arm. She leant up, Draco allowing her gentle fingers to stroke the mark. 

“For me?” She repeated. 

“You.” Draco watched her carefully as she stood from where she was standing, moving closer to him. He automatically pulled her into him, just like he always had. 

“Kiss me idiot.” She said grinning, allowing him to grab her jaw softly, pulling her into a glowing kiss. She felt her skin heat up as her pressed closer to her bringing her closer and closer. 

“Uncle Dray?” A tiny voice squeaked from the sofa. The two shot round just in time to watch Teddy looking confused at them. 

“Yes Ted?” Draco quickly said, regaining his composure. 

“Is that your new wife?” Teddy asked innocently, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Y/N began to giggle a little, covering her mouth with her hand. Draco began to laugh to, walking over to Teddy and pulling him into a cuddle.

“Let’s not be too hasty hey Ted.” 

[jay-in-chicago]

Know The Risk.

Summary: Jay knows sleeping with his CI is enough to get him fired, but when she’s needed for an job, Jay can’t handle it. Pairing: Jay Halstead x unnamed female character. Characters: Jay, Voight, Olinsky. Warnings: mentions of drug dealing, weapon threat (gun), the suggestion of sexual favours in exchange for work (incredibly brief and not in detail), brief mention of sex (with Jay). Words: 2092 A/N: I’m pretty nervous to be posting this, so I’ll hit post and then go and hide. While I’m not new to writing, I am new to writing for the Chicago world. Apologies if the characterisation isn’t correct, I’m still learning. Not BETA’d because this is my first time here, so all mistakes, errors and typos are completely my own.

This was a request from my patreon account.

Likes, reblogs and feedback makes me squeal with happiness.

______

Jay’s been on edge ever since she stepped out of the car and headed towards the meeting point. He’d personally wired her up as he’d tried to keep his cool. His fingers had worked meticulously, and he’d made sure the camera attached to her blouse button was hidden. They needed to see as well as hear but the thought of her going in there alone made bile rise.

“I thought you wanted to solve this case?” she’d questioned, staring him down as she’d ran her tongue over her teeth as she watched him fretting.

“I do but not at this expense.” He’d whispered back, thankful the mic wasn’t live yet. To the rest of the team, she was simply one of Jay’s informants, nothing more than that. He had a few, mostly men but there were a few women who he could call on for a favour, though she’s the only one who had managed to get under his skin. She’d left such an impression on him that he couldn’t get her off his mind.

“Admit it,” she’d grinned at him, “if you weren’t milking me for information every opportunity you have, you’d be trying to get something else out of me.” He’d held out as long as he possibly could before she’d been invited to his apartment, the two of them finally giving in to what has been building for months. Jay had taken her with such relish, desperate to savour every moment of it not thinking for a moment it would be repeated.

But it had. That first time had unlocked something within the two of them, making them unable to resist one another. They’d find a way to have the conversations at either hers or his, she’d tell him everything he needed to know with each swipe of his tongue. Jay made sure he learnt what she liked as quickly as possible. He didn’t have an ego outside of the bedroom and ensured that it stayed the same inside of it but he couldn’t help it. The more she gave him, the more he wanted to take. The more he needed to take.

She’d have given him the information regardless but the coaxing, slow drawing of it, the way she’d withhold details unless he gave her an orgasm was all part of their foreplay. And for every arrest made, every case closed thanks to her, she was rewarded with even more. When Jay reached out to her about this case, she had the right connections, provided details and information that proved to be vital. She’d managed to worm her way in, met their main suspect a few times and managed to get close to being trusted as an outsider could, enabling her to be able to slip between members without being stopped. Or at least not initially.

Which is why she was the perfect candidate for heading in there tonight. Jay sits with headphones on, eyes barely moving from the screen. He hates every word that comes from her mouth. He knows she’s putting it on, but the seductive tone to it makes his cock stir against his wishes, the words should be making him shrink back against the seat in which he sits. She’s flirting with whoever she needs, their faces show the level of interest in her, the way they lick their lips as they drag their gaze down her body and wipe their thumb over the corner of their mouth as they chuckle and click their tongue.

She slipped through the crowd, searching for the one who they’d shown her the picture of until finally he came into view on the camera. Jay felt his body tense up, watching everything unfold on the screen before him. He’d seen what happened to people who got in his way, they were either in the ground or in the morgue and one wrong thing said, one tone off, one nervous hesitation and he’d know. The last thing Jay wanted was to watch her be taken down in front of his eyes, recorded for evidence and to be used whenever needed. The thought of it turned his stomach, had him biting at his nails with anxiety until he was sitting forward, his eyes widening as Darius played straight into her hand.

Jay knew better than anyone how good she was. She played the part incredibly well, and though he knew how she appeared to others, he was the one who saw her for who she really was. The version playing out on the screen for the team to see right now, that was flawless acting. Olinsky and Voight have exchanged glances at one another, muttered under their breath no doubt not wanting Jay to hear but he has. They comment on the way she held her cool, how convincing she appeared and how if they hadn’t had a conversation with her prior to sending her in there, they’d have believed her act. Pride licks at the edges of the raw anxiety ridden wound that festered with each passing minute.

“So you’re the one I’ve been hearin’ ‘bout?” his voice could be heard over the music, the way he looked at her made Jay’s stomach turn.

“depends what you’ve been hearing.”

His tongue slipped over his lips as he’d opened his legs, his hand resting against his inner thigh, the opposite leg swings open and closed as he watched her. “that you know someone who can take twenty keys and make me a lotta money.”

“That’s enough, we can get her out now, right?” Jay asked, moving the headset from one ear to look at Voight.

“Not yet,” his husky tone remained steady as his eyes stayed fixed on the screen.

“He just adm-”

“He didn’t admit anything. We need something concrete before we bust in there and mess up the whole thing.”

Jay clenched his jaw, kept listening and waiting impatiently for Darius to say something which could be used. He wasn’t a praying man but sitting there, with the screen having his full attention and her safety fully on his mind? Yeah, Jay was praying.

“listen yeah? Imma let your guy sell 8. See how that shifts. See if I can trust him.” Darius talks slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. What he means by trusting her buying is also seeing if he could trust her too. Jay knows how this works. You tell a small secret, or a lie, see what happens with it. Build it up until you decide if you can trust a person. If she delivers him the money for 8 and keeps the money coming in, she can be trusted with more product. “After that, we’ll look at somethin’ bigger yeah?”

Darius’s gaze drops down her body, takes in the curves of her body, the ones that Jay knows too well. His blood boils but he forces his hand to remain relaxed. If he clenched his hand, showed his emotion which could be taken exactly for what it is, he’d be packing his desk in a box and walked out of the building before the ink had dried on his paperwork.

Come on you son of a bitch, give me one good reason not to land a punch on you the second I get my hands on you.

“Like what?”

“Look at you thinkin’ big.” He runs his tongue back over his lips as he watches her. “I like the way your mind works. How bout that mouth?”

“What about it?”

“Wanna taste somethin’ on mine? You gonna be sellin’ it, don’t you wanna taste first? See how good it is” he asks, the fingers of the hand that rests against his thigh drums over his clothes.

“You’re giving me a freebie?”

“Bitch, ain’t nothing free here.” He scoffs, unable to believe she really asked that. “You want my H? You gotta show me how much you want it.” His hand moves, fingers tracing over his belt, snapping it open in one fluid motion. The explanation clear.

“We go now.” Voight’s voice rings out behind Jay. His headset is snapped away from him within seconds and he’s on his feet, out of the van with the others following.

___

“Jay?” Neither have really said a word since they got back to the precinct. She wanted to, was desperate to fill the silence with mindless chatter like they would usually but the look on his face tells her he’d rather have this than talk. “Jay.” She tries again and only now do his light eyes flicker up to her face. His hands still work, removing her wires, her camera and anything else which could pick the two of them up. Anything which could be used against them. “Are you not going to say anything?”

“I will once my heart leaves my throat.”

“I did ok though, right? You’d use me again.”

“You terrified me half to death, that’s what you did.”

“But did I do ok?”

He sighs, locks his jaw and stares at her as his hands drop to his side, the devices tightly fixed in his fist. “You did and that’s the problem.”

Her brow furrows, “pro-”

“Yes, problem. Do you realise how convincing you were? If we hadn’t come in when we had? He could’ve-”

“but he didn’t.”

“But he could have.”

“I knew the risk when I agreed to do this.” She lifts her face, angles her chin defiantly at him.

“So did I but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about the way he was or how it was playing out.” Turning his back briefly to put the device into the box it came from, he can’t wipe the memory of the camera from his mind.

They’re downstairs, away from security cameras, away from mics; the only two in that area are the ones Jay has just disconnected and put away. Alone, with no footsteps approaching, she steps forward and pulls him into a hug. “I’m fine. You came at exactly the right time. Maybe if you came in minutes after? That could have been a different story. Look at me, he barely touched me.” She says, ignoring the way her head throbs at the memory of how he’d grabbed her hair so tightly she thought he planned to rip clumps from her scalp as he’d dragged her to her feet and held a gun to her temple, using her as a shield. Her heart rate had only just calmed but the intense way that Jay stared at her made it pick up a little more. “I’m ok because of you.”

“But if I hadn’t.” His voice cracks a little and that one sound? That one sound breaks her.

“Hey,” moving his hand, she presses it against her chest, “see, I’m alive because of you and your team. Don’t beat yourself up over what could be. I’m here. Unhurt. And I’d do it again if it meant I could be of use to you.”

“Your information helps enough. I don’t need you almost getting attacked or killed just so we can take someone down. There are other ways.”

“If it wasn’t me in that position Jay, it would have been someone else. Would you have felt better having someone else have that gun pressed against their head just because it wasn’t me? Because I wouldn’t.”

When he says nothing, just continues to stare at her, she nuzzles her nose against his jaw, over his throat before pressing her lips to him, feeling the rough stubble as it grazes against her soft skin. “You’re feeling this because you acted as you should.” she presses more kisses, up the underside of his jaw and finally over the curve of it, her lips dragging towards his lips until he finally moves, dipping his face to meet her lips with his own and kisses her with all the pent up emotion he’d been keeping in, now barely to hold himself back after just a taste of her again.

“We can’t do this here.” He groans, forcing himself to pull away from her. Her eyes are dilating, her chest rises and falls from the rapid breathing. “You know where the spare key is for my place right? I’ll meet you there. You need to go now before I take you into the supply closet and get fired.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I’m naked.” She says, stepping towards him and pulling his lip between her teeth, nibbling on it just enough to draw a long groan from him before letting it go with a satisfying pop.

[sarcastically-defensive17]

Negatives? - C. Hood

Hello my lovies! This is the anticipated second part of “Benefits?”!! Didn’t think we could get angstier but here we are!! I apologise in advance!

Masterlist will be updated soon! Hope you enjoy! More requests will be filled very soon!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

9 months. 9 months of longing, of pain, of loneliness. 9 months of being cooped up inside of his own head because he was too ignorant and rude to admit that he hadn’t buried his feelings for Y/N.

Drew made Y/N smile, but he knew that he could do better. He made her laugh, yet she laughed heartier when Calum would joke with her. Drew kissed her, yet Calum knew he would do better.

But he didn’t deserve her. Not in any way, shape or form. He had ruined his chances with her the minute he told her she wasn’t good enough to be with him.

Every interaction between the former friends was cold. Y/N looked as if she were fighting back tears and Calum often had to leave the room as his own fell. The band knew what happened between the two; they had been there to pick up the pieces for Calum as Y/N called their manager to quit and took off. She was determined to prove Calum wrong, and everybody knew it.

She kept Sierra up to date with her whereabouts, and job prospects. The two had grown closer as the older woman comforted Y/N. Sierra, in turn, kept Luke updated, and he the rest of the band - except Calum. Whenever he heard her name, he would get angry. It took him months to realise that his anger wasn’t directed towards Y/N, but himself. He let her get away. He was scared to open up. He got defensive, rude, nasty. He broke her heart and stomped on it as he left. All for what?

Drew knew nothing of the relationship between the two, just that they were once friends. He didn’t pry, nor did he try to figure out why the two didn’t talk, he simply made sure to comfort Y/N in anyway after a long day.

Things came to a head very quickly as they hit their 12th show of the tour. The entirety of the trip had been tense. There were very few photos of Calum captured, blatant ignorance as Calum tried to speak to Y/N and many outbursts of anger from the pair. Ashton and Michael had enough.

One fine, aesthetically pleasing Tuesday afternoon, the two broke the ambient air with their shouting. All because of the lack of Calum content on the band Instagram.

“If I see one more comment asking for more Calum, I might scream. There’s enough me content. We don’t need him,” Michael whined, scrolling through Instagram on his phone as Y/N sat next to him, back leaned against Drew, laptop on her lap.

“I think we might need to get some more pictures of the man up there, Y/N,” Luke said, his voice soft, eyes softer. He sent her a sympathetic smile, knowing exactly why there is an acute lack of the Maori man.

Calum scoffed from the other side of the room. They were all situated in Ashton’s hotel room, empty pizza boxes on the tables and floor in front of them. “Why would she do that?”

“Cal,” Luke warned, only to be interrupted by his other friend.

“Sorry, I didn’t think I was good enough to take pictures of you,” Y/N spat, not looking up from her device. “Do it yourself. After all, any genius could do it, right?” The venom made everybody recoil, bar Calum.

He made an interested sound, walking closer to where she was sitting. “Tough words, careful. You might up and run away again, Y/N.” He was mad. She had left them all. She didn’t even give him the chance to talk about it when he wasn’t angry. She blocked his number as soon as she left. She cut him out of her life.

Y/N slammed her laptop shut, standing faster than anybody expected. Her and Calum were practically face-to-face at this point. Ashton was on his feet, surprised at the speed of escalation. “My time of taking photos of narcissistic, degrading assholes is over. Go find somebody else to toy with, Calum.”

“Still playing the victim, are we-“

“Enough!” Ashton had hit his point. For too long, the pair had been making the trip uncomfortable. It was putting a strain on the performance of everybody, and now causing issues with the fans. “Y/N sit down. Calum you sit over there and shut your damn mouth for a minute. Everybody else, get out.” It was rare for Ashton to lose his cool. He was the most composed of all of them, and often played the part of the most mature band member. It was a well known fact that when Ashton had enough, it was time for things to be sorted before shit hit the fan for good. As he ordered, everybody filed out except for the two in question. Y/N sat with a scowl on her face, arms folded across her chest as she chewed at the inside of her cheek. Calum sat on the bed across the room, facing the other direction for fear of lashing out again.

“Ashton what is going on-“

“Zip it, sugarface,” he raised a finger to Y/N silencing her with the gesture. “Enough is enough. This shit keeps going on and it is affecting all of us.” His brow was furrowed deep, jaw set and red hair mirroring his mood adequately. “Calum, you fucked up big time. Y/N you ran off and cut all contact. We have 7 hours until our show, and our sound check starts in 4 hours. You have two and a half to sort this shit out, or we will sort out other arrangements.”

“Ashton, this really isn’t necessary-“

“I don’t care. I’m leaving now and you’re stuck in here. I suggest sorting this out because we have all had enough of it.”

Y/N nodded, watching Calum closely across the room. He stayed silent, back still turned towards his friend and the woman he loved. This was his chance to explain everything, but it could also be his change to ruin things more than they already are. Given his track record, he wouldn’t be surprised if the tables shifted in favour of the latter.

The door closed behind Ashton, silence enveloping the room and making the air more heavy. Y/N felt the discomfort settle on top of the air, weighing it down on her skin until she felt as if her head were spinning.

Half an hour passed. They sat on either sides of the room still, both holding their words in out of spite.

“Why did you leave?” The words fell from his lips before he could think about them. It had been playing on his mind for so long. After a few days, when he had cooled down, he wanted to call her. He wanted to tell her that he was scared and angry and frustrated at himself. That he didn’t want somebody like her to be ruined by him and the life he lived.

“What?” She snipped, not looking up from her phone.

“Why did you leave?” He repeated.

A humorless laugh left her lips, much like the night he saw her last. “You’re joking, right? How could you expect me to stay after that?”

He finally turned to face her, she looked disinterested. Her attention was on her phone - probably messaging drew, he thought - and definitely not on the conversation they were meant to be having. Even after so long, she was still so beautiful in his eyes. Her temper was overwhelming, but she never showed anger towards another unless she had been wrong, and boy, did he do her wrong.

“I tried to apologise, Y/N. I called you, texted-“

“And I waited, Calum.” She was mad, yet calm. Her eyes were burning with fury, jaw clenched hard as she gritted words through teeth. “I waited two days. I got nothing from you, you ignored my calls, and I had enough.”

He huffed, a heavy breath leaving his nostrils, “So because I ignored you for a few days, you left? You left us without a photographer, without a friend, just to go screw around with the Chainsmokers?” He was angry. So was she. He was standing. She was sitting, phone clenched between white knuckles.

“I left,” she was on her feet now, almost chest-to-chest with him and radiating far more anger than he had ever seen, “because you not only degraded and embarrassed me, you criticized my career. I was terrified to open up to you. I knew you wouldn’t feel the same because I was hold never be good enough for you, but I tried. I tried to be open and all I got was made a mockery out of and told that I was practically worthless in my position working with the band.” She stepped closer to him, now at a point where they could stare at one another. Her phone had been thrown aside now, flung from her fingers as she stood. “I spent seven years with you all. I was there for you through everything. I fell in love with you, Calum. And you destroyed it within an hour.”

Her words were venomous, cutting deep along Calum’s heart and allowing the reality to finally, completely, sink in. He caused this. He made her leave because he treated her confession as a joke. He is the reason she is with Drew now, no longer his friend, or his lover. Or even his coworker. It is all his fault.

He slumped down onto the seat next to him, holding his head in his hands and trying to compose himself. He couldn’t even apologise, for he didn’t trust his voice.

“I gave you everything, Calum, and you threw it back in my face. How could I stick around?” She couldn’t look at him. Whether it was out of anger or sadness, or even fear of him making a fool of her again. She couldn’t bring herself to do it, so she turned around, staring out of the window of the hotel room.

They had a nice view, and she allowed it to distract her eyes from harboring tears.

She heard the rustling of fabric behind her, along with the creak of the chair beneath Calum. The soft padding on carpet told her that he was walking closer to her.

“I-“ he started, taking in a breath. She could hear the emotion. “I can’t begin to tell you how much I hate myself for what I did to you that day, Y/N.” He had tears streaming down his face, she could see so in the reflection in the window. “I don’t know why I said those things. I should never have told you that you weren’t good enough, or insulted the career that you built for yourself. I’ve been replaying that day over and over since it happened, Y/N. I knew that I loved you four years ago, and hearing you say it, after I tried my hardest to push down those feelings - I don’t know why but I got so defensive-“

“Shut your mouth.” She hissed, turning and allowing her anger to resurface. “For fuck sakes, Calum. Don’t try and play with my head again. You didn’t love me, not like that.”

“I loved you more than I have loved anybody else, Y/N.” He whispered, voice steady and his eyes not leaving hers. He was telling the truth, and they both knew it. “I fell in love with you so many years ago. I didn’t want to do anything to ruin this, but then you told me what I had been dying to hear for so long.” He sniffed, brushing tears away aggressively as he pressed his palms into his eyes. “I’m an idiot.”

“I can’t help but agree with you.” Y/N turned away from the window, the view no longer appealing as her own reflection became far too evident, along with Calum’s.

Another few minutes passed, both now situated in the seats they previously occupied. Y/N had her knees pulled up to her chest, picking at her fingernails. Calum was staring at his feet.

“I’ve found that if I close my eyes, I can sometimes pretend that Drew is you,” Y/N whispered. Her voice was full of pain. She was still processing the information that Calum had fed her. Still trying to figure out what to say to him. She figured the truth was better than anything. “I want - I wanted a future with you, Calum. I wanted to be able to wake up knowing that the man I loved, loved me back. That the man who knew me better than anybody else, was there with me. Hearing you say those things to me was the worst thing I could have experienced.”

“Y/N, I-“

“I hate to say it, but I still love you. I still wish that every time I fell asleep with Drew, it was you beside me. It’s easy to pretend.” Her own tears fell. “I can’t forgive you so easily. I can’t just forget everything that you said. I can’t forget how much I want to be with you.”

“Just one more chance, Y/N, please?” Calum was focused solely on her. He was ready and willing to be down on his knees, begging to have her in his life again. Not even for love. He would be fine to simply be able to watch a movie with her, joke with her. Love her like he did before. “I know I can’t make up for it right now, but I love you so much. I would spend the rest of my life showing you how sorry I am, if you would let me. You deserve far better than me.”

For possibly the millionth time, Y/N was at a loss for words. Calum kept his vulnerability from many people, but Y/N could often read him like a book. Unfortunately, he could do the same for her.

“You don’t need to give me an answer right now, we have a few more months of the tour left. Whatever you decide, I’ll be fine with. You never want to see me again, I’ll stay away. You want to give me a second chance, and I will spend every day of our life together making up for all of the years that I kept my mouth shut and the horrible things I said to you and the pain I caused you for the past nine months.”

A sob tore from her throat, her eyes clenched as she let his words hit her soul.

Thankfully, the door clicked. It opened cautiously, a head of red hair poking through, Ashton eyeing the pair warily.

“I can’t do this right now, Cal,” Y/N blurted, taking the chance to rise to her feet and push past Ashton and the other guys. Drew watched after her with confusion, as did Luke and Michael.

Ashton glared at Calum, “You suck at apologizing.”

Tag list: @starshonerose @theanswertoeverythingisl0v3 @mantlereid @another-lonely-heart

[sweetdreamhellofanight]

Shower

Timothy Thatcher x Fem OC/Reader

My first WWE Fanfiction! I hope you all like it! I take requests so please feel free to drop by and drop me some ideas! 

Warnings: Oral sex, mentions of bodily injuries

He drags himself everywhere, now. For three days she had watched him move sluggishly around her, his eyes looking straight through her, never quite sure if he’s present or not. 

He falls asleep before her and wakes before her, they miss each other by mere moments, only seeing each other long enough for a smile and a glance. 

No more, she thinks, and decides enough is enough. 

It’s Thursday, his lightest and her busiest day, but she makes the choice and calls out. He will sleep late into the morning and she will finally have time to make things right for both of them. 

There is a brief second, when he wakes to find her still next to him, that he smiles and presses a soft kiss to her forehead. She thinks maybe things are better, that he’s okay and all he needed was some sleep. 

But he’s the same sluggish, tired self he’s been for a week now. 

They eat breakfast together and he lounges on the couch, TV on but not paying attention. And finally, she thinks of a last resort. 

“You need a shower,” she says to him, leaning against the wall of the living room. He only grunts, lifting an arm to smell himself. 

“I’ll take one in a bit,” he says. She sighs and stands in his direct eyeline, now. He stares and says nothing. 

Last week he would’ve at least given her a smile, but this week had drained him completely, it seemed. 

“I said,” she starts again, “you need a shower.” Her voice drops slightly and moves her hands behind her, sauntering towards him. She feels slightly ridiculous, but he raises his eyebrows and that’s more of a reaction than she’s gotten out of him all day so it must be working. 

“You trying to tell me something, doll?” he asks, his voice lighter. There’s a hint of smirk on his face, but she still wants more. 

She stretches out a hand to him, 

“Come with me,” she says, quietly. He watches her for a second, his face softening, and finally takes her hand. She pulls him up and struggles while he groans and chuckles at her. 

She’d set record time in clearing out the bathroom of all the junk they’d left in there, save only for the biggest and coziest towel she owned. The water was already running, knowing it would take it a moment to heat up properly. 

She turned to him and found his face back in a frown. 

“Take off your shirt,” she said. 

He arched an eyebrow. 

She was going to have to do more, it seemed. 

She played with the hem of his shirt, stepping closer to him, 

“If you take yours off, I’ll take mine off,” she said, softly. He only smirked and obliged, slowly pulling it off, wincing in pain. 

Bruises and scrapes from earlier in the week colored his torso, a nasty cut from a month ago was healing slowly. Cuts along his biceps made her pause, running a gentle hand over them. 

“Turn around,” she said. He did. 

His back was the same as the rest, bruised and cut up and still healing. No wonder he was in a bad mood, she thought. 

He turned back to face her, 

“Your turn, love,” he mumbled, looking her over. 

Her heart beat faster. It wasn’t like they hadn’t stripped down bare in front of each other before, but this moment felt heavier. Her own shirt, raggedy and light as a feather seemed to weigh more than before as she tried to pull it over her head. She tossed it aside and felt goosebumps form where the cool air hit her skin. 

“Fucking gorgeous,” he mumbled, one hand tracing along her collarbone down the middle of her chest. She shivered under his touch. 

“These next,” she said, pulling at the band of his sweatpants. Just as strained as with his shirt, he pushed them down and stepped out of them, kicking them to the side. There was nothing else, and he stood in front of her completely bare. She was staring, of course she was staring. She was trying to play it cool, walking a fine line between cool and so fucking horny. 

A curled finger under her chin lifted her head back up to look at him, 

“You next,” he said. There was no smile on his face, but his eyes told a different story.

Her shorts and underwear came down in one quick motion leaving nothing between them now. 

The steam from the shower started to seep out into the rest of the bathroom, 

“Water’s ready,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him with her into the tub. 

They stood under the water for a few minutes, letting the hot water calm them down. His eyes had been closed the entire time, his hair matting down onto his forehead. She could see every part of him relax under the water pressure, and for a moment he seemed younger. 

She watched water droplets roll down his arms, following the paths of his veins, his beard, his chest hair all softening under it. Even the bruises on his body seemed to fade slightly. She put her hands on his chest and leaned up to kiss him. He parted his lips but stayed still. So she kept going. 

Down his jaw, his neck, his chest she pressed soft and lingering kisses until she felt his arms wrap around her waist. 

He rested his head on her shoulder and she ran her nails through his hair. 

“Wait,” she whispered in his ear, moving out of his grip to grab the bottle of soap. A fancy one where the name wasn’t even on the bottle itself that smelled of citrus. 

She lathered it in her hands while he watched. With gentle hands she began to rub it over his shoulders, then down his arms, carefully going over the cuts still healing. Occasionally she looked up at him, her hands making their way down his stomach. 

His eyes were closed, mouth slightly parted, a look of complete calm on his face that she hadn’t seen in weeks. 

It was working, she thought. 

“Turn around,” she instructed and he did so. She repeated the movements with the same pace, first his shoulders, then his arms, then working her way down his back. His breathing steadied, his shoulders had dropped, and the water was still hot. So far so good. 

And with that, she couldn’t help herself and gave him a little squeeze on his ass that made him huff in surprise. 

“I was wondering when you’d get to it,” he said. He turned back to her, smiling lightly. 

She acted surprised, 

“You thought I got you into the shower with me to do that?” she asked. 

“Well why else would you?” he asked, pulling her hand to his lips. 

“Maybe I thought you just smelled that bad,” she said, shrugging. 

“And now?” he asked, leaning in. 

She turned her face up away from him, 

“Better,” she said, nonchalantly. 

“I think that deserves something special,” he said, pressing himself up against her. One hand still in his, he guided it down to his cock, his other hand twisting and teasing her breasts. 

She inhaled sharply. Of course this was the whole point of their shower, but he always made her breath hitch, always made her heart beat a little faster, always made her blush. And the worst part? He enjoyed every bit of that. 

“What do you want, my love?” she whispered in his ear, 

“You,” he breathed into her. 

Her lips hovered over his and pulled back only when he tried to kiss her. He groaned and she swore she could cum right there from that sound alone. 

“Let me take care of you,” she whispered, pushing him against the shower wall. 

As carefully as she could, with the help of him holding her, she got to her knees, her hands still wrapped around him. Slowly and deliberately, she moved her hand up and down, the other hand gripping his thigh. 

She looked up just as he closed his eyes and sighed, resting his head back on the wall. He had one hand running over his face, the other hand gripped tight in her hair. 

“Like that?” she asked softly, pressing a kiss to the tip. He shuddered and she smiled. 

She had him right where she wanted him. Dragging her tongue along the length of it, she listened to the groan in his throat growing louder, the hand in her hair pulling her forward to take him. 

“What do you want, darling?” she asked, pressing her lips to him. 

“Please,” he begged. 

“Please what?” she asked. 

He whined and she had never felt so satisfied, so powerful around him before. 

“Please what?” she asked again with a tug to him, his mouth open but no sound escaping. 

“Take me,” he said, looking at her, finally. “All of me.” 

She smiled wide, 

“Anything she want, sweetheart,” she whispered. She started slow, lips covering just the tip, and heard the breath catch in his throat. 

Slowly, she moved her head down, her tongue circling him as she went. She took him all in until she could feel the tip pressing against the back of her throat, until her eyes watered and a gag came from her. He moaned as she pulled back, spit dripping down her chin. He looked up for a moment and his eyes went wide, 

“Fuck,” he whispered, the hand in her hair moving to cup her cheek. 

“Should I keep going?” she teased. He nodded frantically, hand going back into her hair. This time, she picked up the pace. 

She took as much of him as she could, her hand wrapped around the rest of him, moving her mouth and hand in the same rhythm, drawing it out as long as she could. 

It drove him wild, and the hand in her hair didn’t let up, either. 

She ran her tongue over him and felt him shake beneath her. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, a string of fuck’s following it growing quieter. His legs shook and he pulled her forward hard. 

It didn’t take long after that, for him to finish off in her mouth. Her own eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, hot and thick pouring into her mouth with only the faintest sound of her name coming from his lips. 

Slowly, she pulled herself back, wiping the remnants of him off her mouth watching him intently, letting the hot water wash it away. His head was propped up against the shower wall, breathing heavy, her name falling from his lips so quietly she could barely hear it. 

He looked down at her and smiled, one hand coming to cup her cheek. 

“Help me up?” she asked softly. He nodded and grabbed your arms. 

“Here we go,” he said, helping her up, keeping her steady. He hugged her tight against him, but stared at her, wiping her wet hair out of her face. “Gorgeous,” he whispered before kissing her. 

“How do you feel?” she asked. 

“Better,” he said, finally smiling at her. “A lot better, in fact.” 

They stood there until the water ran cold, and moved out, wrapping themselves in one big towel until they got to their bed. 

[atlas-tries]

Shatter Me Chapter 3: Shatter Me

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Summary: Patton finds a painful memory and Janus has a vision. Will it be enough to thwart the outcomes that await?

Notes: Redundant, no? Not gonna lie, fam, it's about to get to the darkest point. Trigger warnings for character death.

“Patton, are you sure you aren’t a hoarder?” Virgil asked, pushing aside a mountain of plushies where he had been unfortunate enough to land. This was the first time the anxious side had been in Patton’s room since he moved to their part of the Mindscape (also the first time he had ever been to Patton’s room) and Patton was beside himself to have him here.

“Absolutely! I just like to keep a few sentimental things around to look at when I’m feeling down,” Patton replied. “But I guess it uh, wouldn’t hurt to clean up a little. Gotta make room for more memories, right? I actually have the energy to do it now!”

Virgil looked at Patton with a lopsided grin. “Wait, what? You, not having the energy to do something? How’d that happen?”

“Ah right, you weren’t here for uh … all of that. Let’s just say I was recovering from an injury I got several months ago,” Patton said, instantly noting the worried change in Virgil’s expression. “Hold on, it’s alright, I’m alright now, see?” He lifted his shirt to showcase the few tiny cracks that remained. “I’m almost completely healed. Logan even gave me his seal of approval!” He pulled out a little medallion with Logan’s bespectacled brain signet on it. “See?”

Virgil breathed out a visible sigh of relief. He shook a finger at Patton. “Awesome,” he said, his voice cracking a little at the end.

“Alright, so you said you were looking for …” Patton started.

“… this one angsty poem Thomas wrote in high school. I thought I’d uh, spice the ruminating up a little when Thomas heads to bed tonight,” Virgil replied. “No better way to fall asleep than thinking about everything that’s gone wrong or that will go wrong, am I right?”

Patton smiled. “Sure, kiddo, as long as they’re balanced with happier thoughts during the daytime! Let’s see, I think what you’re looking for is over here.” He ran toward his version of the staircase that was piled high with boxes and other larger memorabilia that wouldn’t fit on the bookshelf. He glanced through a few of them, perking up a little when he came to the box on the fourth stair. “I think this is it!” He grabbed the box and ran back to Virgil.

“Keep them as long as you need them,” Patton said with a smile. He handed it over to Virgil, who nearly doubled over from the weight of the things inside. Virgil choked out a thanks and quickly sank out.

“Well, that’s one box temporarily dealt with. Now, about the rest of this marvelous mountain of memories …” Patton, though he would never outrightly admit it, didn’t like moving things around very much. It filled him with dread just thinking about moving something somewhere he would inevitably forget about it. Maybe it would be better to start smaller? He looked around for somewhere less cluttered to start. Finally, his eyes landed on the overflowing box labeled New Memories. “That’ll do for now.” He took the box carefully upstairs to his bedroom and got to work sorting its contents.

In around half an hour, everything was categorized into neat little piles that could be easily transferred to other more fitting storage spaces. Patton began collecting everything from the Friends and Coworkers pile and carried them to his dresser. The top drawer was for everything related to Joan. Admittedly, this one was getting a little bloated from all the fun stuff they and Thomas had ever done together. Still, Patton managed to find space for the newer memories in the crevices that remained. The rest made their way into their respective drawers, packed in tightly with all the rest of them.

Patton closed the drawers, smiled, and put his hands on his hips. “Perfect!” he said. Now all that was left was to take the box back to his version of the living room. He picked the box up and startled when it hissed at him. Something was still in there. He peeked into the box at the thing that had just slid toward him, an upside-down picture frame from the looks of it. Steadying the box with one hand, he reached in and flipped it over.

The last memory he had of Thomas’s now ex-boyfriend stared up at him from the bottom of the box.

His hands trembled a little as he stared at this frighteningly still image. “Nope nope nope, not today,” he said, closing the box and walking as quickly as he could to put it back where it belonged. Despite ridding himself of the visual, this memory was still going to make itself heard in the only way it knew how. Patton clutched at his chest hard and the box crashed to the living room floor. “N-not again …”

He sat down on the stairs a moment to regain control of his breathing. Searing lines thrummed in time with his heartbeat, dulled but not forgotten. This was another reason why he never bothered to clean up: too much of a chance to reopen old wounds. Patton rose with a wince to get that recording of the Rainforest Rap. That song always helped cheer him up. He kept the song on repeat until he felt some semblance of normalcy again.

For the rest of the week, Patton lay awake during the nights, praying that the darkness would somehow take away the memories that hurt him so. It, as many spectral entities do, provided no such reprieve. Certainly not enough to quell the ache settling further into his core as the days passed. Taking liberties in his duties here and there made things far more manageable. Just yesterday, Patton suggested Thomas indulge in a half a pack of Oreos and he listened. The day before, he had come thiiiiiis close to getting an actual bouncy castle! And today, Patton had one little plan he thought everyone would jump for (but not in a bouncy castle).

If everything went according to Patton’s plan, they would spend the next 48 hours rewatching The Office in a blanket fort with Thomas’s closest friends. They could all use a break right about now, what with Roman steamrolling through coming up with new concepts, Logan pulling all-nighters researching for new videos, and Virgil making sure everyone was staying on time with Logan’s schedule. He couldn’t wait to see how everyone else liked this idea! He was already out the door and nearly to the stairs when he heard muffled shouting coming from the living room below.

“—not seriously thinking of going along with this latest plan, are you? I have far too much to plan if we’re to keep this project at its utmost quality!”

Patton stopped dead in his tracks at the top of the stairs.

“I know, Roman, I’m concerned about this, too. We’re woefully behind schedule as it is,” Logan added. “If we don’t do something about this, my carefully constructed calendar will collapse under the weight of his impulse decisions.”

“But how are we even supposed to bring that up to him? He’s been acting weird all week, I know,” Virgil bit, “but you know how Pat takes these things, L.” Patton bit his lip to keep from making noise as the cracks grew once more.

“The best way to do that is to do like you said earlier Virgil, rip it off like a metaphorical Bandaid. This isn’t the first time we’ve had to do this.”

So. Patton had gone overboard these past few days with his contributions.

How many other times had he put the other sides in this exact same situation? They were all supposed to be in this together. Weren’t they …?

There was only one way to fix this. Fixing his cardigan and his expression, Patton plodded heavily down the stairs to announce his arrival. “Hey kiddos! Oh, good, you’re all here together, that’ll save me a few trips back upstairs,” he said cheerily.

“Don’t tell us, Padre, you have another idea?” Roman asked. His smile looked so forced.

“Kinda! So I was just thinking that since we are so behind schedule, a 2 day binge-fest might not be the greatest idea I’ve come up with. So instead of that, how about we work on this next concept together tonight?”

Jaws all around the room dropped. “Wait, what? I thought …” said Virgil, looking to the others.

Roman picked up where Virgil left off, “Patton, I believe that’s the best idea you’ve had all week!” He stepped closer. “How shall we go about it? At the dumb boring regular table here, or at the Round Table in the Imagination to help stimulate all the best thoughts?”

“Hmm, that’s intriguing, Roman. It would certainly be easier than trying to keep track of all our thoughts on paper,” Logan added.

“Hey Logan, I guess you say it’s a …” Patton started.

Logan’s eyes widened. “No.”

“Oh, this’ll be good,” Virgil snickered.

“… well-Round-ed idea,” said Patton.

Virgil and Roman couldn’t help smiling watching this play out. Logan groaned. “I will ignore that this one time because you made a worthwhile effort to get us back on schedule, but I do hope that you’ll spend a little more time thinking about what words you want to arrange in a sentence. And make them less … pun-filled.”

“I’ll try not to have too much pun, but I can’t make any promises!” Patton said.

Logan said nothing further, opting instead to vacate the premises as quickly as possible. “I’ll uh, go with him and we’ll get everything set up in the Imagination,” said Roman, running after him.

“Well, I guess that just leaves you and me, kiddo! Whaddaya say we make some snacks for everyone? We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us today!”

Virgil nodded. “As long as I can spit on something meant for Roman,” he said.

“I’ll let you have the cookie batter bowl,” Patton replied.

“Deal.”

Between the two of them, Patton and Virgil were able to make somewhat quick work of a heaping plate of hot cookies and several plates of sandwiches for everyone to enjoy. Sure, they may have gotten more flour and other assorted foodstuffs on them than into the finished products on the counter, but it was the fun they had doing it that mattered. Both of them decided that it would be best to change out of their dirty clothes before carrying everything into the Imagination.

Patton sunk into his version of the kitchen, which was considerably more cluttered than the common area kitchen. He stepped over a few stray memories before making it into the clearer living room. That was when he noticed Deceit sitting on his couch worrying his gloved hands. Softly, Patton called out, “Dee?”

Deceit startled and turned quickly to see Patton. “Um,” he said, clearing his throat and brushing down the front of his cloak, “you certainly didn’t sneak up on me.”

“What brings you back to my neck of the ‘burbs?” asked Patton.

Deceit stood from the couch. “We’re just getting so well acquainted that I thought I’d stop by for tea— and to give a warning. I know they’ve been growing again.”

Patton smiled sadly. “I guess I can’t really hide this from you. But you should know, this time—”

“It’s not their fault, I’m well aware. But doesn’t this make it the best time to tell them? The pressure is off. You don’t even have to tell them in a direct way!” Deceit said, taking Patton’s hands in his own. His eyes were alight with worry. “You just need to tell them.”

“I know I need to, but … it’s so hard to do. I’d be hurting them, I know I would.”

Deceit looked down and sighed. He brought his gaze quickly back up to Patton’s, staring with an intensity that Patton had never seen from him before. “You need to tell them,” he whispered slowly. “I saw something on the horizon. Something bad. As much as it pains me to say it, I don’t want that vision to be about you.”

That was a bit startling. Patton knew it wouldn’t get that far, but … could it? “Okay,” he said. “I’ll tell them.” That earned him a split-second smile from Deceit.

“That’ll do, Patton. That’ll do. What in the world is on my gloves?” Deceit said, sinking out.

“Cookie dough!” Patton called after him. “And probably some mayo. Oh, he probably didn’t hear me. Now what was I doing again? Oh yeah, clothes, brainstorming, Imagination!” He quickly ran upstairs to the bathroom to get changed and emerged from his room less than a minute later and grabbed what food Virgil hadn’t. Maybe if he busied himself enough, he would be able to forget Deceit’s visit. He wouldn’t think about the panic behind his crumbling facade, or the thinly veiled pleas he made.

But that would all be a lie. Something had him deeply troubled, and when Deceit was the one giving out a warning in earnest, it bode better to listen. But how to go about it? Patton sighed. “Alright, Patton, let’s just focus on getting to the others right now,” he said to himself. He closed his eyes and thought about the others, and about castles, knights, and everything that made Roman happy.

When he opened them again, he was in the Imagination.

Or rather, he was in a field in the Imagination, right in front of Roman’s towering castle. It was a perfect amalgamation of Gothic architecture and pure Disney magic that made Patton’s nostalgia meter burst through the roof. He ran through the front gates with appropriate gusto and was thrilled to see the others there around the table already, quietly chatting amongst themselves. “Ah, Patton, we were starting to think you forgot how to get here again. Come, let us formally begin this brainstorming bash!” Roman said cheerily.

“That’s the spirit!” Patton squealed, trying to sound as normal as possible. He set down the cookie platter and took a seat in the high-backed chair with his new symbol on it.

“First things first, let’s make sure we’re all on the same page before we begin,” Logan said, summoning papers for all of them. “In order to maximize our output, Roman, Virgil, and I have decided to remove some of the thought filters from the castle for this session. This means that any particular thought, if it’s focused enough, will manifest in here for all of us to review. According to my own independent research, this should boost our productivity by 42% with a .03% margin of error.”

Patton’s eyes widened a little. He really didn’t want to interrupt their work, but this new system would definitely cause problems if he didn’t come clean now. So, Patton gathered every last bit of gumption that he had and shouted, “I have a confession to make!”

The others backed up a little, startled that Patton could be so loud, but quickly recomposed themselves. “Go ahead, Patton,” said Logan, straightening his tie.

Patton thanked him, doing his best to not squirm in his seat. He knew they wouldn’t react well, but maybe saying it now would keep thoughts about it from popping up later. “I uh, wanted to get this out of the way before we get down to business. But um … I think I might be breaking again.”

“Come again?” Virgil asked.

Patton slid the collar of his shirt down enough to reveal several deep fissures. “These things. They’re growing again,” he said. “Started earlier this week. I just didn’t want that popping up without warning and ruining our work. Anyways, um, what ideas are we working with here, Roman?”

“Wait, breaking? Like, breaking breaking? Oh God, Patton, are you dying? You’re dying, aren’t you? Oh God, no! What stops death?! Logan?!” Virgil cried frantically.

Patton quickly said, “Virgil, Virgil, breathe, I’m not dying. In for four seconds, there you go, hold it for seven seconds. You’re doing great. Just listen to the sound of my voice. Out for eight. Good job, keep it up.”

Logan got out a pen and notepad. “Again? And you say they started earlier this week? Do you remember which day it was?” he asked.

“The day I started cleaning up my room. Uh, what day was that again?” Patton said, still doing his best to softly coach Virgil back down to a calmer state.

“Padre … I thought there weren’t going to be any more secrets about this,” said Roman. The hurt look he gave to Patton about killed him where he sat.

“It wasn’t so much a secret as it was an ‘I-got-a-little-busy-and-kept-forgetting’ kind of thing. I never meant to keep it from you, any of you,” Patton replied. A tiny, glowing orb dripped from Patton’s chest. A thought. He pushed it down between his hand and the seat to trap it, knowing that it would unveil his lie. For good measure, he slung a leg over his hand.

“You were cleaning that day…” Logan mused. “I may have some theories that explain this phenomenon, though it is currently up to speculation. Allow me to elaborate. Patton, it seems that stressing yourself beyond your limits could potentially be the cause of this. You have certainly been going out of your way with your work this week. I believe we all recall the … bouncy castle idea. This could be leading to a lack of self-care needed to perform adequately.”

Patton nodded slowly with as real a smile as he could muster. “Yyyyyeah, that could be it,” he said, shoving down another treacherous thought as it popped out. It brought up memories of all the passing comments Logan made about his character.

“Uh, Pops? Whatcha … doin’ over there?” Virgil asked.

Patton stiffened. “Nothing, just, uh … Practicing a new kind of exercise?” Another one flitted out, pointing to being too overbearing with Virgil. “Hey, is that a dragon coming up to the castle?”

Everyone turned to look while Patton conjured a slingshot, flung that icky thought out the other window. and recaptured the one that had come out from beneath his leg.

“No, that’s a tapestry, Padre. It literally couldn’t hurt you if it wanted to,” Roman said. “Not that I would ever let it!”

Patton smiled. “You’re my hero, Roman,” he said.

Roman blushed a little to that. “Aw, Pat,” he gushed.

Another thought came up, a memory of a time Roman had taken him on one of his adventures. He had wanted to tend to a little wounded animal they came across and nearly got them killed because of it. Patton clapped his hand painfully over his heart to keep that one from surfacing. With a whimper and a slight grimace, he replied, “I mean it, Ro.”

Virgil was getting extremely antsy where he sat. “Okay, um … This is weird, right? Like, this just feels wrong.”

“Virgil has a point, you are behaving rather strangely, Patton,” said Logan. “Do you have something you’d like to add?”

With the focus being on what started this, another memory surfaced. The one that had started it again. Patton tried to bite that one as it meandered past. Curse these full hands! He missed by a mile, leaving it to float effortlessly to the center of the table.

“A thought?” Logan said. “Unconventional, but it’s an intriguing choice.”

It began to play. Patton was in his room, sorting through the new memories box. The last few were being tucked away. It skipped to him looking back in the box to see what was left. It showed him, holding the picture. Him, clutching his chest. Him, stumbling to the floor. As if on cue, the cracks thrummed in recognition. Thank goodness he already had a hand over them because it almost took his breath away. The memory evaporated, leaving the others to simply look with jaws slightly agape.

Patton could only look down at the table. These old wounds were reopening in the worst of ways, and now his closest friends would find out the truth. Logan finally broke the silence. “So, that’s how it happened.”

Patton nodded wordlessly.

“This was months ago,” Logan said.

“It was a busy time for me,” Virgil added. “Switching from everything Thomas did wrong to worrying that Thomas will never find love again got to be so exhausting.”

“I admit even I became a bit disheveled by his absence,” Logan said, looking down.

“I nearly ducked out over this. I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you, Patton,” said Roman.

Patton still couldn’t bring himself to look up. He knew there were pent up tears threatening to fall if he did. “It … it was hard … and seeing a reminder of it …” he whispered.

Logan sighed. “I believe your best course of action is clear,” he said. “You simply need to let the past be the past.”

“But … what about all of the good times we had with him? I don’t want to leave them behind,” Patton said softly.

“Patton, these memories are physically hurting you. I can’t understand why you would rather suffer endlessly instead of just letting one person go.”

You’re too sentimental to save yourself from dying.

Patton’s face contorted and a small whine escaped his throat. Those insidious cracks lengthened once more, each one feeling like a knife tracing its way through his skin.

Roman stood abruptly. “Now look what you’ve done, Quantum of Soulless!” Roman cried, motioning to Patton. Logan rose from his seat, trying to get a better look from across the table.

“Roman …” Patton lightly scolded. “Pl-please be nice.”

Roman huffed. “Sorry. What I mean is this situation needs a bit more delicacy than Logan’s robotic demeanor could ever hope to provide.” Roman walked over to Patton and put a hand gently on his arm. Logan was making his way over, too, notepad in hand. “Now Padre, you know how much I came to you when this was all fresh. We did our best to hold each other up, but even now, I still feel lost. I can’t tell you how much I yearn to have our beloved return, or how much I want to call him after all this time.”

Patton sniffled a little, putting his hand over Roman’s and leaning his head against his arm. “I know, I want him back too,” he said.

“I think we all do. But I think it might also be time to start boxing up some of those old memories. We can even help you start!” Roman said. Virgil shook his head. Logan rolled his eyes. “Okay, I can help you start.”

“But I don’t want to forget … I wouldn’t even know where, or how, to start. We had so many good memories together that I don’t want to lose,” Patton blubbered.

“I know it’s difficult, but we aren’t children anymore, Padre. I know the relationship ending was for the best and I’ve been striving every day to remain strong. I also know that you wouldn’t be leaving everything behind if you do the adult thing and let the ghosts of the past go.”

You’re too naive to understand what needs to be done.

Patton doubled over, groaning as the cracks split further down his limbs and up his neck. Bile burned at the back of his throat, and he could taste the coppery twang of essence. He felt another wary hand on him. “P-Pops?” came Virgil’s wavering voice. “I… Thomas was being too overbearing. That wasn’t your fault!”

YOU were being too overbearing. YOU were what drove him away.

Patton cried out in agony as his skin split down to his fingertips and over his face to the top of his head. Small chips of skin were beginning to fall away with tiny tinks as they hit the floor, displaying the bright blue beneath. He could feel the front of his shirt begin to dampen.

“I don’t get it! We’re trying to help, why isn’t this working?” Virgil cried. “Why are they getting worse?!”

Logan came up to Patton, attempting to lean him back with utmost care. “Perhaps just talking about the subject of his pain is what’s causing them to worsen,” he said. As soon as he looked at the frail fatherly side, his demeanor changed. “Virgil, get a first aid kit. Roman, help me lay him on the table. Now!”

The others, at first too stunned to move, burst into action as quickly as they could. Patton screamed as they repositioned him on the table, hyperventilating from the pain. “Hang in there, Padre, please hang in there!” came Roman’s muffled voice. Logan was reaching for the hem of his shirt. He mouthed something to him. Patton felt something glide across his skin from his navel to his neck. Wait, when did Logan get scissors? And where was his shirt? And why did the others look so horrified? Those questions seemed inconsequential to the truth staring down at Patton, demanding he tell it.

“It w-was my fault,” Patton croaked.

Logan started threading a needle. Virgil was carding his fingers through Patton’s hair anxiously. Roman looked at him with incredulous eyes. “What are you talking about?” asked Roman.

“Th-the breakup,” Patton replied. Warmth was trickling down over his ribcage and soaking his back. “A-and everything e-else.” Logan tried his best to stick the needle through solid skin, but it just chipped further. Patton coughed, a bit of blue making its way past his lips.

“Everything else? Patton, you’re not making sense,” Logan said, trying the same thing again with the same result.

Patton whimpered, “I-I know that I’m always … messing th-things up. I forget s-so much … I kn-know that you think I’m t-too sentimental t-to do my job. Th-that I’m too … naive t-to see the truth right in … front of me. That I’m s-so over … o-overbearing that I drove him away. If it w-weren’t for … all of you t-to rein me in … I-I’d make Thomas into a… w-worthless mass of a man.”

You are worthless.

“C-Compression. Let’s try compression,” Logan said.

“Pat … is this … is this what caused all of this?” Roman asked. His eyes shimmered.

“You can’t seriously think that,” Virgil said, his hands becoming shaky.

Patton cried as Logan pressed firmly in the center of his chest. More fragments broke free and with them, Logan’s hands went straight through into Patton’s chest. Patton nearly passed out. Logan quickly withdrew his hands.

“Ohhhh my God, oh my God, Logan, what did you do?!” shouted Virgil. “What do we do now?!”

Patton coughed violently, essence spluttering from his lips in a steady stream.

Logan could only stand there, frozen in horror, staring at his blue hands.

“Logan?!” Roman cried.

“I … I don’t know …” came Logan’s voice, barely above a whisper. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks.

“You can’t die on us, Patton, please, we need you!” Virgil sobbed.

Roman grasped Patton’s hand delicately. It began to shatter like porcelain barely held together. Despite the jagged edges, Roman still lifted it to his cheek, holding on like it was the only anchor in a violent sea. “Y-you’ll … all be … alright … without me … Just … p-promise me … y-you won’t … blame yourselves …” Patton gasped.

He couldn’t hold it together when bigger pieces of him began breaking away from the rest of his body. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t hear.

He couldn’t see. But still, his mouth made the words.

“I… l-love… you.”

With a final shuddering breath, he was gone.

---

Janus knew that meddling with what his foresight told him never aided the outcome.

He knew this, but he tried anyway.

It wasn’t that he particularly liked Patton. He found him to be overly saccharine and ridiculously optimistic in the face of surefire doom, not to mention he stood by socks and sandals as a fashion choice. However, things always seemed to run smoother in the Mindscape with the fatherly side around. Someone had to be there to tend to the others and moderate their senseless bickering, he supposed. How would anyone get any sleep otherwise? And Patton wasn’t one to pass judgement when he was caught alone. Perhaps his near-blind acceptance was what endeared Janus to him in the first place.

Whatever the case, he didn’t want whatever was going to happen to go through like it wanted to. He could never determine much from these visions. Just … feelings. Notions. The occasional coherent thought. This most recent one should’ve been par for the course. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what came. He couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was being ripped apart. And there was nothing else around but the pain, searing a fiery blue, and those three intrepid words.

I love you.

A swan song if there ever was one. And now, standing here amongst the shadows outside Roman’s castle, he knew the swan had sung.

Taglist: @celeste-tyrrell @taxicabinmemphis @angeldiaries @somehow-i-got-an-account

[daredevile]

A Second Here Another Gone

Summary: Blinded by the sweet raptures of a new relationship, Bucky lowers his guard around you - unaware of the real reason you found him.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of blood, bit of violence and one swear word

A/N: Hey! I know it’s been over two months since I posted something and I’m sorry! I was working on so many oneshots and never finished one until now. But, I promise I will try to update somewhat regularly from now on! Anyway, this one’s for Ayesha’s [ @browngirlmagic ​] writing challenge and my prompt was ‘Echo’. Please reblog if you like it! :)

An angry crimson. A so-called scarlet elixir of the living trickles from its hearth beneath as if screaming a symbol of horror and impending doom. It surrenders with grace and elegance - a droplet of fresh blood tainting pristine white floors, smearing the Parthenon of life and death with an intensity of wrath and violence and -

"Hey." The sombre tone in his voice draws you into his weary stature. It looks worse than he'd assured over the phone. Raging clusters of purple and blue spread across his arms, broken lip, black eye, his jaw cast a scarlet tint. Not to mention the slight limp he'd tried masking from your stares.

"Thanks for coming so fast. Would've driven myself but..." He motions to the cast around his right arm, a light pink dusting over his cheeks. A nurse approaches him with a sympathetic expression, repeating a list of instructions and medication requirements for a quick recovery. Though you know Bucky's not following a word she's saying - she must've realised it too - giving you a moment for any questions before returning to her station.

The conversation in the car is non-existent, only a couple of instinctive glances towards the rear-view mirror to gauge each other's emotions. Soft tunes twirl in the background, Bucky lowers the volume with a grunt as his muscles sting with the movement. A sigh escapes from his lips, he angles himself towards your concentrated form but, you refuse to meet his gaze.

"Y'know it's not as bad as it looks. Should've seen the other guy." He says with a constrained laugh. An honest attempt to relieve the tensed wind and the crease between your eyebrows, alas, it fails its purpose. He sinks back into the cushioned seat, lingering his eyes over the neon streaks of passing vehicles.

The road seems never-ending, both sides merely converging at a distant imaginary point ahead. The traffic dissolves and scatters into several busy paths as Bucky directs you through far too many left and right turns before arriving at a rather calm and vacant neighbourhood.

Once the engines lull back into a soft purr, you open the passenger door and gently grasp his arms as he lifts himself from the seat. He releases a breath in relief, thankful your silence is replaced by concern. The two flights of stairs is another journey on its own, exchanging mumbles of apologies and groans, even the close proximity of him curves past your thoughts.

Bucky stumbles into his apartment, careful to avoid the loose floorboard right at the entrance - pushing a horrible reminder to the back of his mind - and you follow his footing. A chuckle from him pulls your attention, determined he's capable on his own, he leans away from your hold, mentioning something about taking a shower before retreating into the furthest room.

His house is spotless, every single object kept in a place for swift and efficient access. Somehow he'd made a rather confined area appear more spacious. You notice how foreign and hostile he maintained his home - a supposed personal bubble. His belongings danced around the hazy line between bare essentials and other items. Almost as if he was caught in the process of moving in or ready to move out within a matter of minutes.

A sharp buzz from your phone stops you from observing the rest of the apartment. Without sparing a glimpse at the caller, you swipe the green button. An instant thrust of shouting greets you, attacking your senses with great vigour. And it's patience, you've learned, an offensive strategy to appease the monster into a human you could better tolerate.

"I need time." It's not forceful, however, lacking a timbre of the usual intensity your words uphold. The shouting continues, each syllable seething with fury, demanding more answers while your fist clenches at the vulgar threats he hurls from the other end.

"I need more time."

There's dead silence on both ends. And for a second, you believe that he's accepted the command. As fast as it'd ignited, the little spark of surprise disintegrates when his deep laughter is all that's pounding in your ears.

"You're here!" Bucky says, grinning as he spots you in the balcony, "Thought you left me alone."

His sudden appearance turns your blood cold and you can feel the precise second your heart trips over a beat, shoving the phone back into your pocket. His smile drops, immediately regretting how he entered as soon as he saw the pained expression written all over your features. He sighs when your eyes witness the red wounds and scars - some more jarring than others - scattered across his body.

"Look, I know this isn't a good impression. I don't want you to see me like this, trust me, I wouldn't have called if I had - " A pause. Hesitant as he swallows back the words. "Anyone else."

"I'm sorry, Bucky. This is all just... difficult." He nods, fumbling with the loose bandage tied to his other arm. A smile tugs on your lips at his frustration, you grab the free end and wrap it securely around the wound.

"Could you maybe stay? I mean... if you want to." He struggles to suppress a grin when you look up at his eyes. It's hope that lingers behind them.

"Of course."

But the side where you slept is cold and empty when he wakes up.

---

O N E  W E E K  E A R L I E R

The restaurant was crowded, located right at the heart of the city, overlooking several busy streets that seemed to sink under all the hustle and bustle. The world appeared an innocent umber through the dark hue of your sunglasses, shielding yourself from unwanted enemies. Or so you thought.

Time. Time was precious and no amount of glancing at your watch appeared to have quickened the circular orbit of the dials. But this time, you were unsure - caught between the dichotomous chasm of want and need - a feeling that unsettled you to the core.

"Hope you don't mind, darling." A deep voice came from behind, the drinks spilt over the glasses as he slammed his hand on the table. The elderly couple sitting to your left flinched at his abrupt action. A fake smile was enough to have satisfied them, he returned to face your blank expression.

"So tell me, does it usually take this long or are you fucking him?" It was almost a growl that promptly simmered to a smirk when a waitress passed by, unaware of the evil she'd encountered.

"He'll figure it out, I'm being careful." You said, oblivious to the scorching hot liquid piercing your taste buds. Any shard of fun and pleasure that had emerged from his features earlier crumbled at that very second, he leaned closer and you saw the strain on his face when his jaw clenched. Rumlow was not one to adjust and compensate. You learned that the hard way.

"Listen l/n, I saved you from Volkov 'cause you'd be useful someday. And now you owe me. Gave you a week to do the job, it's been two and I still got nothing. And you know I don't like waiting. Get me the information and finish him or should I remind you what's at stake here."

His voice was dangerously low as if cautious of people overhearing but, you knew it would take mere seconds for the scene to resemble a massacre. Yet, he was right. Your past record highlighted the speed and efficiency of completing assignments - just one hit then delivered to the client and you walked away richer. No hesitation. Unfortunately, this time it was Bucky who had a price on his head and had obtained confidential information.

A folder was thrown at your direction, containing photographs of innocents at different viewpoints through what was unmistakably sniper scopes. Rumlow mimicked the sound of a gun cocking before standing up. He bent down to whisper in your ear, laughing while he pressed a brief kiss to your cheek and walked into the sea of people. His last words were all that you breathed.

Barnes or your family.

---

Bucky sidesteps the soldier-like stance of a grumpy looking man, clearing his throat to alleviate the embarrassment of breaking under his penetrating stare. He didn't know what the guy's problem was, Bucky ignores the annoyed tsk that's clearly targetted at him. On any other occasion, a meaningless interaction with strangers would've flown over his head. But, today he's confused. Scared, even.

Less than two weeks ago, he'd encountered and been drawn to an enigma. Strong yet intricately pieced together. Delicate yet resilient. He just couldn't figure it out. After all, he thought everything became normal once he'd spoken and apologised last night. Expecting to be woken up by sunshine and ruffled sheets from a good sleep and you sleeping soundly, but you were gone without a word - and he just doesn't understand.

And now, here he is, shuffling through busy routes to follow a briskly walking figure who's intrigued him for half an hour. They seem to have no destination, simply taking sharp turns and descending into valleys of crowds and streetside markets. In a hurry, Bucky thinks. He picks up his pace, there seem to be fewer people in this area. It's darker and easily hidden between the lanes of houses.

He turns the corner and realises there are no other paths. A dead-end. The figure spins around, eyes flitting around the narrow path. He panics and begins to retreat, but the all-too-familiar cock of the gun stills his movements. Nothing. No moment in his entire life scared him more than the person standing a few steps away -

It's you.

He freezes when your finger curls around the trigger and the innocence in your eyes dissolve. Every single instinct in his body is telling him to run. But he can't. He wants to know more, to know why. And he realises you're thinking the same when your hand begins to tremble.

"Whose orders?"

It's a tone he's never heard before. Cold and detached. A machine programmed to do one's bidding with no second thoughts. He raises both hands, swallowing the agonising feeling latching onto his throat as your grip tightens.

"Don't lie to me, Barnes. Who ordered you to kill me?"

There's no choice. His heart is clawing the insides of his chest, waiting to be free. A whisper is all it takes to conquer your feelings.

"Volkov."

Bucky knows the moment his name is released into the strangling air between you, the gun falters. He sees the rapid and minute shift of your eyes, composing all the information together until -

Your voice staggers, pleading almost. "They have my family, Bucky. He'll kill them if you don't tell me where Volkov is. Rumlow - "

Bucky stops listening. Rumlow, a name he'd left behind, buried within the depths of conscience along with Hydra. He understands your assignment, a simple extract and kill. What Volkov had promised in exchange for your life - Steve's whereabouts - seemed too good to be true, maybe a possible reality in a utopian world. But, this is his life and it's not paradise. He takes a few steps until his hands hover over your gun, angling it towards his heart.

"Then save them."

He whispers the location and you try to zone out, lose control so you don't hear his words. It's too late, two snipers emerge from buildings on command, both taking positions on either side of where you're standing. The chill that runs down Bucky's spine doesn't go unnoticed as he spots the red skull badge on their sleeves. Rumlow knew you wouldn't kill him.

Bucky nudges your chin with the tips of his fingers, reaching into his jacket, he slips his gun into your hands. No words are spoken but you know what has to be done.

Taking a much-needed breath, you pull the trigger at him, not witnessing the wine coloured liquid spreading across his chest instead, taking cover before shooting one of the snipers lurking near a thin pillar. The other one begins firing near the car you are ducking behind. You sprint into his blind spot and kill him with a shot to his head.

Without wasting another second, you spot Bucky clutching his chest in pain. It takes a frozen second for you to dial 911, shaking with dread before Rumlow sends any more of his men and the chances of Bucky surviving vanish. A concerned voice replies to your incohesive string of words, you're barely making sense, the nurse ends the call ensuring 'they're on the way'. Bucky grabs your hand amongst the turmoil, light-headed and pale from the blood seeping through his clothes.

"This isn't goodbye."

And you run.

---

E I G H T  M O N T H S  L A T E R

Even after weeks of desperately searching for him, he was nowhere to be found. You'd gone back to the hospital, the nurse gave you a distressed glance, saying he hadn't mentioned anywhere in particular. That he was gone once discharged.

You didn't give up though - he'd sacrificed himself for your family in a sheer heartbeat. Bucky was the wind to your storm - a second here another gone. He was mysterious beneath the layers of kindness and affection, tender yet deep like the lyrics of a love song - words you've yet to discover, only hoping you weren't wrong.

A few of your old confidantes were able to carry out under-the-ground operations in exchange for Bucky's location: Edinburgh.

Under the chilly winter winds, you walk along the snow-freckled pavement. Sitting at a dark wooden bench inspecting calming patterns of skate lines etched across the river's icy surface, puffs of crisp air revealing themselves as you sigh.

"I was right."

His voice beckons a long-awaited smile on your face. Sharp blue eyes gazing at a few younger skaters wobbling while they glide along. You begin to stammer out an apology, but he shakes his head, still not meeting your eyes.

"You had no choice."

"Did you find him?" You ask eagerly as he takes a seat next to you.

"Pulled a few strings with some old contacts." Bucky turns to face you, a genuine smile he hadn't felt in ages tugs his lips. He takes your gloved hand in his, entangling his fingers with yours with a dazed look washing over his features.

"He's here."

[geeky-writes]

Continuum - Story Preview

Part of the Pieces of Echoes series. Superfamily/ Stony Infinity War/ Endgame AU

“And for more information about this strange space phenomenon, we go to our on-site reporter, Jackson Murphy. Jackson, what more can you tell us?”

“Honey, why’re you still watching that stuff?” Tony asked as he emerged from the bathroom, ready for bed in Steve’s favourite bright blue sleep pants and a black tank top that was probably older than Peter. It wasn’t at all unusual for Steve to be watching the news before bed. When they weren’t on a mission there was always at least one television on in the house while Steve was awake, tuned in to his favourite news station. He liked to call it minding his surroundings, and while it made sense to Tony, it didn't mean that he particularly enjoyed it.

And he enjoyed it even less when said news was reporting on whatever goofy space phenomena had just occurred over Africa. Ever since he’d stumbled upon an entire space-faring army just waiting to invade Earth during his emergency missile flight through Loki’s portal, Tony had adamantly decided that he had seen all he’d needed of space, thank you very much.

It was an image that, even almost four years later, he still couldn't shake no matter how hard he tried. And he had tried.

“Steve?” Tony repeated, pausing a few steps in to toss his hand towel in the general direction of the laundry hamper. “I thought Fury already told you that we didn't need to worry about it?”

“Yeah, he did,” Steve muttered. The worry wrinkle between his perfect dark blond eyebrows was on full display as he glowered at the screen, an abandoned dog-eared novel sitting on his lap. Apparently the Jackson Murphy dude didn't have much of anything to add to the already low-on-details event.

“And?” Tony asked as he set his glasses down on the bedside table, right next to his tablet and Steve’s dog tags. He climbed up onto the bed, sliding over to lean his head against Steve’s arm. It had been a long day, and he was tired.

Steve huffed out a frustrated sigh as he wound his arm around Tony’s shoulders. “There’s no new information, and judging by where in Africa the event occurred, there probably won't be any anytime soon. Director Fury told me that this country, Wakanda, doesn’t talk to the outside world all that much.”

“Mmm. Yeah, I’ve heard that about Wakanda,” Tony said. “They’re about as isolationist as they come. Howard used to even grumble about them sometimes back in the day.”

“I’m not surprised,” said Steve. “Did you see that he tried to convince the government to try and open scientific diplomatic channels a few times when he was with SHIELD?”

Tony draped his arm across Steve’s waist, burrowing closer as he closed his eyes and breathed in his husband’s intoxicating scent, ivory soap and the slight hint of vanilla that always seemed to seep from his skin. Whoever thought that the plain, ten-cents-a-bar ivory soap could smell so damn good?

“Pretty sure it was Pete who discovered that little tidbit in the HYDRA files, honey, along with all the other stuff he wasn’t supposed to be reading,” Tony murmured, stifling a yawn. “Makes sense though. I bet all the rumours floating around about the super cool Wakandan tech just about drove Howard bonkers. You know he always wanted to have his fingers in every single pie he could find, and I know it always bugged the hell out of him that he could never get his hands on more of their magical metal.”

Steve’s eyes flicked over to the red, white, and blue shield propped up against the wall right next to their bedroom door. Tony had offered many times to build him a stand or something to hook it on when Steve wasn’t using it, but Steve always refused. He’d told Tony that during the war he had always stored the shield right by the door—when he was actually able to sleep in a building, that is—and, like everything else about Steve, old habits apparently died hard.

“Yeah, I bet it did,” Steve said softly. He narrowed his eyes at the screen as the reporter launched into yet another meandering statement regarding the unexplained phenomenon that had taken place high in the skies over Wakanda. Tony sighed, trying to ignore the high-pitched, nasally drone of the reporter’s voice as he repeated himself for the third time.

“Honey, if Fury said whatever the hell this was isn’t an Avengers-level threat, then why are you watching it?” he asked. “You know it’s just gonna make it harder for you to get to sleep. And don't you try and give me that big song and dance about how you don't need as much sleep as me, ‘cause you know it’s just a bunch of bullshit.”

“No, it’s not,” Steve said, rather petulantly. “In fact, according to Dr Cho, it’s actually—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, enough already,” said Tony. “The fact still remains that Fury told you that whatever this was doesn’t need to concern us, and yet you’re still making it our concern.”

“Fury said he didn't think it was, Tony,” Steve said. “And he also said that so far none of the SHIELD scientists have a clue what it was either, so—”

“So tell him to send all the data they’ve managed to compile over to Bruce’s lab, and he and I can take a look at it in the morning after we get Pete to school, yeah?” said Tony. He tipped his head up, planting a kiss on Steve’s jaw. “Problem solved.”

Steve gave a sheepish nod. “I already did. Bruce is expecting you at nine.”

Tony chuckled. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I didn't have any other plans in the morning.” It wasn’t actually the truth. He’d been planning on working on the new nanotech suit he’d been building ever since their return to the Tower at the end of August, but he supposed that could wait long enough for him and Bruce to have a good look-see at whatever data Fury’s scientists happened to have.

Especially if it helped to ease his husband’s mind a bit. After Steve’s month-long sejour in the almost-invisible HYDRA prison five months ago, Tony was still hyper-aware of anything he and the rest of the team could do to help shoulder some of Steve’s mental burden. Tony—with Peter’s help—had made sure that Steve kept his regular weekly therapy sessions with Sam Wilson, but knowing Steve as well as he did, Tony found it unlikely that he was allowing himself to work through the trauma he had endured as well as he should.

Apparently you could take the super soldier out of the 1940s, but you couldn’t take the 1940s out of the super soldier. And judging by the fact that Steve still tried to brush Tony off whenever he asked if he was okay, Steve still had a long way to go.

“Honey, please,” Tony said gently as the reporter launched into yet another monologue about the mysteries of the Wakandan nation, complete with brightly-coloured cringey slideshow graphics. “I know you’re tired, and this isn’t helping anything. No one knows enough about Wakanda to even make a semi-educated guess about what happened, so this is really just a waste of our time.”

Steve huffed out an annoyed breath. “Yeah, I guess so. JARVIS, can you please turn off the television?”

“Of course, Captain,” replied JARVIS. “Would you like me to continue recording this news coverage?”

“No—” Tony started.

“Yes, please, JARVIS,” Steve cut in. He gave Tony an apologetic look, earning a dismissive shrug in response. “Thank you.”

“You are most welcome, Captain.”

“Nice one, babe,” Tony said with a scowl. “Now you’ll just end up watching it when I’m not around.”

The full chapter will post on Monday, August 31st, with new chapters posting weekly until the story concludes 😊

[talltales]

                                    —HEY NOW, HEY NOW, DON'T DREAM IT'S OVER                                     HEY NOW, HEY NOW, WHEN THE WORLD COMES IN                                     THEY COME, THEY COME, TO BUILD A WALL BETWEEN US                                     WE KNOW THEY WON'T WIN                                                            anonymous request!!

NOTICE: violence (murder, mentions of cannibalism), heavy sexual content

               “i just painted my nails.”

blankly, she flicks away the blood trickling down her hand and turns it over to inspect the chipped pink polish peeling off with it. her trigger finger relaxes minutely, but her gun remains aimed at the deathly still men at her feet, staring sightlessly into the cloudless, red sky.

“i didn’t think you were that kind of girl.” the click of the clip being slatted into his own weapon accompanies his droll retort. she glances over her shoulder to find yugyeom leaning against the hood of their car, arms crossed loosely across his chest; dark eyes fixed upon the flow of blood across hot concrete.

before it reaches the tip of her shoes, she sidesteps and moves to rifle through the belongings peeking from their pockets. her gun is slipped into the old leather holster at her hip before she pulls a wallet from the closest man, “i was always that kind of girl. it isn’t my fault you never paid attention.”

she spares her companion a look and then turns back to the worn billfold, tossing the plethora of id cards contained into the summer wind, “looks like he was collecting trophies from his kills.”

“how barbaric.” yugyeom hums, impassive. his nose crinkles, however—offended by the emerging malodor of decay, “they reek. are you ready to go?”

“just a minute.”

the few bills contained within are deposited into her back pocket. discarded identification cards bearing the faces of strangers skitter across the road as she makes work of the other male’s wallet and, for good measure, plucks his half-empty carton of cigarettes from his coat pocket.

“got yours?” he slides off the hood of their old black mustang, slapping a palm against the hot metal before opening the driver side door, “because we need to start making some distance if they’ve got friends.”

“you’re a broken record, you know?”

“i’ll stop repeating myself when you start listening.”

the cool flow of a/c when she gets in is a welcome sensation. there are, after all, few luxuries left in a world that has gone to hell and dragged every survivor with it.

her thumb hovers over the radio dial out of habit, turning it on to catch nothing but muted static.

the radio broadcast had stopped four months ago.

where an endless stream of music and advertisements had once been, there was only white noise; broken only by the occasional snare laid by opportunistic hunters. assuming that there was prey left. at least the ones who would believe the theatric cries for help, transmitting on repeat in the early morning hours.

without the loose guide of societal standards, humanity turned on itself. cannibalized the weak. she hits the off button and releases a heavy breath; sinks into her seat as yugyeom starts the engine. what an ugly place to be—

to be left behind in.

“what is it?” his attention is on the road, intent as he navigates smoothly past the still-warm bodies and the last remnants of their victims, innocent things blowing away in the desert wind, “you’re thinking too much.“

“i know. i’m just wondering how many of those fuckers can possibly be hiding out here. how many people they’ve killed, and for what?” her teeth sink into her lower lip, biting down until the dull ache draws her mind back—to the scent of leather and gunpowder and the droll, knowing look yugyeom gives her, “for useless pieces of plastic? money that can only be spent in camps where they’ll be shot on sight?”

one instinct had survived the dissolution of the world, after all. people knew a wanted man when they saw one.

“you know why.” he hums, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, “i shouldn’t have to remind you.”

“humor me.”

the conversation is an old one, repeated for the sake of soothing what remains of her conscience. stubborn as it is, it comes to life in moments like these; when the adrenaline fades away and she is left with blood caked under her nails and the smell of copper clinging to her skin.

“they kill for the thrill of it.” for her sake, yugyeom answers. the words flow easily, as if he’sreciting a memorized poem; an old story told a time too many. “they enjoy it.”

“i enjoy it.” she confesses, not for the first time. she stretches as the seat allows, arching her back as her fingertips brush the roof; the telltale click of her spine realigning itself brings a fleeting sense of relief. she speaks to the spotted, hazy glass of the sunroof, “i enjoy hunting them and putting them down.”

the blood-red sky is cloudless; speckled only with the brightest starlight breaking through the atmosphere.

“so do i,” he says, and the matter is settled.

again.

—

“so wound up,” she breathes, grazing the curve of his jaw with slow, wet kisses; deft fingers threading through his hair, “i wanted to help,” rolling her hips in a hard grind, she almost chuckles at the way he twitches inside her; the way every muscle in his body seems to tense simultaneously as she darts her tongue out to taste the sweat beading above his collarbone, “but i guess i’m not—should i stop?”

her head spins, body seared by the window beneath her palm and the pressure of the steering wheel digging into the dip of her spine. but it is the ebb and flow of his rhythm that renders her breathless; makes her feel like she’s suffocating the most exquisite way.

she muffles her cries against his throat and centers her attention on the wild skipping of his pulse under her tongue.

yugyeom’s jaw tightens and the next sound that escapes is half-protest, half-groan. she feels the weight of him, pressing into her hips from contrasting directions; his thumbs scoring marks against her skin—his hips canting up to meet hers, languid and deep.

she catches his words after a delayed moment in which her mind stutters to a stop when he brushes a spot inside her that makes her see stars.

“don’t you fucking dare.” it’s quiet, so very quiet, but something in her relishes at the loss of his composure, the rare curse emerging in a growl that tightens the coil inside her. in pursuit of more, she forces herself to stop with him buried as deep as their bodies allow; clenches around him until she can see something in him snap.

it makes it all that much sweeter when he comes apart.

he is, in these moments, the only beautiful sight left in this wretched world.

—

she wears his bruises like trophies, sometimes, lounging in the backseat with her legs folded beneath her and a brush running through her hair.

he watches through the rear-view mirror, as he always does, when she shifts—clad only in a pair of practical briefs and bra. the impression of his hands frame her hips and she takes pleasure in watching his eyes wander before he realizes what he’s doing. because kim yugyeom is always composed, always in control.

except when he isn’t.

and their dalliances are less about attraction than they are about release. she swears on that.

there is a softness to his touch when he isn’t paying attention—in the midnight hours, when their only light is the blue-tinge of headlights cutting through the dark; in the moments before he cuts the engine and his hand slides from the gear-shift to grip hers. “we’re keeping this quick,” he mutters, in a way that is more order than she cares for.

she’s out of the car before he can say anything else, “if they don’t drag it out.”

her sidearm is grasped firmly with her finger hovering over the trigger, her only guide the faint flickering of a campfire in the distance—

the stench of unwashed bodies and smoke.

every step is muffled beneath the howling of the wind and the hush of sand swirling over the earth. hunting is a natural instinct, but stealth is an acquired skill. it is her contribution in their little arrangement, because as graceful as yugyeom is he is impossible to miss.

he follows behind her, well-worn boots crushing the few sprigs of grass that have survived the onslaught of an unforgiving sun. even at this hour, the edge of it lingers on the horizon; an angry crimson-gold.

“you should’ve heard her scream,” comes the distant echoes of laughter from the makeshift camp ahead, beyond the shadow cast by the tents circling the site. they are lit from within by the fire on the other side, revealing silhouettes of figures perched upon folding chairs and the prone half-body beside the fire, “i’d have kept her alive just to hear it again, but a man’s gotta have his dinner.”

it’s an old sight, but it turns her stomach just the same.

her finger itches over the trigger, and she doesn’t have to look back to feel the intent radiating from the man behind her.

two, she holds up the signal and raises her gun while sidestepping into the gap beneath the twin tents. it takes effort to ignore the scavenged woman lying in the dirt; the silver and gold ring on her left hand gleaming in the firelight. someone’s wife.

instead she steels her voice and, assured that yugyeom has his gun trained on the other man, disengages the safety. “on the ground,” it comes out with a hiss; air flowing between teeth gritted so hard she feels it in her jaw.

the sight of the duo scrambling to find her in the darkness is only mildly satisfying. no, the true pleasure only comes when yugyeom fires a warning shot that grazes his target’s cheek, and abject fear takes hold.

“who’s there?” her target. his face is buried in the dirt; amorphous cooked meat beside his head. it takes effort to hold her fire until her boot slams into his spine and the barrel of her gun finds its way into his hair; digs into his scalp.

“you don’t need to concern yourself with that. i’ve got a question for you.”

on the other side of the fire, yugyeom does much the same—nose wrinkling as the man beneath him squirms under his knee; whines incoherently about the gash in his cheek.

“what do you want?”

“you got any buddies out here?” she asks, watching his eyes flicker about wildly, as if searching for an escape. or reinforcements, as the case may be. she secretly hopes for the latter.

“it’s just us,” the man whispers, and she pulls the trigger.

an answering shot rings through the night, and she looks up to see yugyeom wiping blood from his forehead before he walks to the parked pickup truck nearby. he preforms a perfunctory search, pulling a marked map from the glove compartment and a few bills that disappear into the pockets of his jeans.

“quick enough for you?” she questions before she can stop herself, trailing after him with a contemplative look at the container sitting next to the rear tire.

he nods, placid as ever, though she can see the spark of something in his eyes—the promise of another night spent chasing a different sort of satisfaction.

this is, after all, empty work on the best of days.

“the map—“

“for later. to find any stragglers.” she watches as he glances back at the campsite; stares at the blood splattered everywhere. it’s the clenching of his jaw that makes her act upon the persistent urge to act—to reach for the gas container and unscrew the cap.

without a word, she tips it and watches the crystalline liquid soak the ground at her feet. she doesn’t stop until the canister is empty and the site is soaked in the smell of gasoline; each body drenched with it.

he doesn’t stop her.

the only move he makes is toward her, to stand at her side as she fishes a matchbook from her back pocket and strikes it; the flame dances at her fingertip for a moment before she drops it—watches the campfire swell within minutes to a blaze that lights the night sky in shades of gold.

the heat is searing—makes her feel as if she’s burning alive, but for the first time she feels satisfaction with this ugly thing they do.

purification by fire.

only the slide of his fingertips over the back of her hand draws her back; the hesitant way that he laces their fingers together and tugs her back toward the car waiting in the distance. she squeezes, and feels the heaviness in her chest lighten when he returns the gesture.

it has practical purpose; less about affection than it is about comfort.

she swears on that.

“where to next?” for lack of anything better to say, she inquires into the open air, taking her first breath of fresh air.

yugyeom seems to hesitate, and she watches from the corner of her eye as he turns the question over in his mind before he speaks. always thoughtful, always choosing his words carefully.

“i think we’re overdue for a trip home.”

[out-of-jams]

Airplane Mode | Track 09: IDOL | jhs

Summary: Set in the same universe as Love at First Touch by bagelswrites.

In a world where a bruise marks the first touch of your soulmate, time is the only thing that matters. The marks take hours to appear, sometimes even days if you're really unlucky. Once First Touch is initiated, both parties only have a few weeks to find the other. From then on, the body begins to reject any form of sustenance other than the touch of the other. If one fails to find their soulmate, they starve to death.

So what happens when your soulmate is an internationally famous idol?

And you're just one fan in a sea of many who can't even speak the same language.

Pairing: Hoseok x Fem Character

Word Count: 5.2k

Genre: Fluff. Angst. Idol!au. Smut. Soulmate!au. 

Warnings: Explicit language (you already know).

Words written like this are spoken in Korean.

                | Previous | Next | Track List | Masterlist |

If you would have asked Eunjae two months ago how she thought her life would end up, well, it certainly wouldn’t have been where she was. Sandwiched on a couch between Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin, in a studio inside Big Hit Entertainment.

Her fingers ran through Yeontan’s soft fur absentmindedly from his spot curled on her lap as she kept her eyes on the man in the recording booth. The quiet sounds from the game on Taehyung’s phone was drowned out by the voices of Yoongi and Namjoon from where they sat in front of the recording equipment. Jeon Jungkook, who had shyly introduced himself to Eunjae after she stumbled in with Taehyung and Jimin, was perched on the arm of the couch. The maknae hovered over Taehyung’s shoulder, watching the elder thumb across the screen of his phone. 

Jimin, who was sitting on the other side of the couch, was busying himself by scrolling through the BTS Twitter feed. Whenever he’d stumble across a particularly funny video or meme, he’d nudge Eunjae with his elbow and show her. He also wasn’t well versed in the English language, so they’d had to resort to using the same communication methods that she used with Taehyung. He was just as unabashedly friendly as the other half of the ‘95 line pair, which worked well to bypass Eunjae’s initial anxieties about meeting the members. 

Kim Seokjin had briefly and politely introduced himself to Eunjae right before he had to leave to fulfill a prior engagement. Or something like that. At least that’s what Namjoon has kindly translated for her. Apparently the elder man had already recorded his part of the song they were mixing. Eunjae had just barely been able to stop herself from gaping at how breathtakingly beautiful Seokjin was up close. In fact, every single one of the members of Bangtan were almost impossible to look at head on. At least if she wanted to prevent herself from gawking. 

The sounds of the track starting back up again effectively ripped Eunjae from her thoughts. The energetic, catchy tune flared to life as the room filled with Jungkook’s angelic vocals. Eunjae relaxed further back into the couch, fingers lightly scratching Yeontan behind the ears as she watched Hoseok bob his head along to the beat. 

The rapper was taking his turn in the recording booth. 

His eyes were focused intently at the phone in his hands with the song lyrics while he patiently waited for his next verse to come up. He’d been in there since Eunjae arrived with the other two boys in tow. Hoseok hadn’t paid attention to her arrival, too absorbed with the microphone in front of him to notice.

It was embarrassingly difficult for Eunjae to tear her eyes away from the man once his voice started to filter in through the studio speakers. Hoseok’s usual friendly, energetic persona became replaced by something much more serious, fervid...intense. His dark eyebrows drew together in concentration, pieces of his hair falling from their pushed back position and into his narrowed eyes. Hoseok’s sun-kissed skin appeared a few shades darker underneath the dimmed lights of the recording booth. As he rolled his neck back slowly to ease his tense muscles, the sharpness of his jaw was prominent even through the glass looking into the booth.

One side of the headphones thrown over his head was pulled off a single ear, and his tongue would flicker out occasionally across the bottom of his plush lips whenever he cut himself off and asked to redo his verses. If there was one thing that Eunjae learned about Hoseok in those minutes, it was that the man was a perfectionist. At least when it came to his art. 

A nudge to Eunjae’s side pulled her attention away from the deep rasp of her soulmate’s voice and over to Jimin. She did her best to ignore the knowing smirk that quirked at the corner of his lips as he flipped his phone over to show her some meme that ARMY made of Jungkook. Eunjae tried and failed to cover the snort of laughter that escaped her, luckily not loud enough to draw the attention of the serious looking Yoongi and Namjoon. 

All too soon, the music flowing through the room was cut off and Namjoon spun around in his chair to address the room. “Jiminie, you’re up.” 

“Sweet.” Jimin slipped his phone in his pocket and stood up just in time for Hoseok to exit the recording booth. As he passed his elder, Jimin playfully patted his back and squeezed in through the partially open door. 

Hoseok looked up from his own phone and grinned wide enough for his dimples to pop into existence once he noticed Eunjae sitting on the couch. His quick change from serious and intense almost gave her whiplash, but she gave him her own warm smile in return. 

The cushion next to her dipped under his weight as he sat down. “You were good!”

Eunjae tried her hardest to keep her voice hushed so that she didn’t interrupt Jimin’s recording. So she had to lean a little closer to the man at her side in order for him to hear her properly. She actively had to stop herself from reacting to the energy of his close proximity when he reached out a hand to lazily pet Yeontan. 

Hoseok’s eyes curved cutely as he beamed at her sincere compliment. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” 

Whatever response would have came next was interrupted by Jungkook’s sudden loud shout of annoyance. All eyes in the room were on the maknae as he angrily dropped an amused Taehyung’s phone straight onto his elder’s lap. His interruption had Yoongi twisting around in his chair in irritation. The rapper’s lips twisted into a frown as he berated (at least that’s what it sounded like to Eunjae) an abashed looking Jungkook.

“Sorry, hyung.” Jungkook grimaced, cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. 

With a roll of his eyes, Yoongi turned back around and restarted the track once again. Namjoon simply shot a look at the maknae before focusing back on the soundboard. Hoseok, trying to hide the amused twitch of his lips, leaned closer to Eunjae in attempt to not invoke Yoongi’s wrath.

“I have...question,” the words rolled off his tongue easily, almost as if it’d been on his mind for a while. 

Eunjae quirked an eyebrow in curiosity and lowered her own voice to a whisper to match his. The two boys on her other side had quieted down, both focused on their own phones separately. “What is it?”  

“You were...in school?” Hoseok asked, eyes locked with hers. 

Not expecting his question, Eunjae blinked in surprise. “Yes.” 

“But no more?” There was a pinch between his brows now.

“Right.” She said slowly, not really sure where he was going with the question. But from the frown suddenly gracing his mouth, she didn’t think it was anywhere good. 

Hoseok’s tongue darted out to swipe at his bottom lip and he tilted his head to the side with an expression that she couldn’t quite discern. “Why?”

“Why what?” 

His slender finger tapped against his jean covered kneecap, ring glinting in the overhead lights. “Why not anymore?”

“Well,” Eunjae’s own fingers glided through a sleeping Yeontan’s fur once again. She wasn’t really sure how to phrase her response. Especially not with the way that he was looking at her now. Was he upset? “I had to.”

“Had to.” Hoseok repeated her words in a tone that bordered on...disappointment? Or was it something else? She wasn’t sure. Eunjae wasn’t versed well enough with his mannerisms to be able to tell. 

He leaned back against the couch with pursed lips, gaze stuck firmly on the ceiling. Hoseok was quiet for a moment until he reached out a hand and grabbed one of her own. His fingers squeezed her own as he tilted his head back over to her. “I’m sorry.”

“Wha—for what?” That was the last thing that Eunjae would have expected to come out of his mouth. What did the man have to apologize for?

“You had to..,” he paused, tonguing his cheek as he searched for the right words. “Stop. For me.”

Oh. So that’s what the look of disappointment on his face was for. Not for her, but...for himself? With a frown, Eunjae used her free hand to gently pat the arm closest to her. “It’s not your fault, Hobi. It was my choice.” 

Hoseok sent her a disbelieving look. “But--”

“No buts.” Eunjae cut him off with a shake of her head. She didn’t want him to blame himself for whatever crazy reason was going through his head. “Really. Don’t stress.”

He looked at her for a long, quiet moment. The only sound that permeated the silence was Jimin’s ethereal vocals and the cheerful, upbeat track. Hoseok’s eyes searched hers in all seriousness. Either he found what he was looking for or he’d decided to give up the argument for the moment because a tiny sigh left him. He slid a little further down on the couch, legs spreading a tiny bit wider to compensate for his new position in order to rest his head back against the couch. 

“Sure?” Hoseok couldn’t help pursing his lips.

“Sure.” Eunjae gave him a reassuring smile, patting his arm once more before withdrawing. 

That seemed to be enough to pull him out of whatever thoughts were flowing through his mind. He hummed in thought, leg swishing a little in time with the beat of the track. “Studied what?”

His hand was still holding hers. Either he’d forgotten about it or the man was still hungry. Whichever it was, Eunjae did her best to ignore his warmth in favor of responding to his question. Tuning out the sound of Namjoon dropping his phone face down onto the wood floor with an accompanying groan, she felt her lips twitch at Hoseok’s curiosity. 

“Fashion.”

He made a sound of interest in the back of his throat and shifted on the couch once again. Hoseok grinned at her, his eyes creasing in the corners. “Tell me.”

It wasn’t much longer before Jimin emerged from the booth. During his whole time recording and even when he’d switched places with Taehyung, Hoseok had cutely and determinedly asked Eunjae whatever questions sprang to mind. He’d wanted to hear all about her time at NYU, even though Eunjae knew that it couldn’t have been that exciting for him to listen to. Hoseok hadn’t given her any time to fire back any questions at him, which left her slightly pouting when Yoongi called him over to help with whatever it was he heeded.

His spot on the couch barely got any time to cool off before Taehyung plopped himself right into the empty space. His hand snaked out to thread through a still sleeping Yeontan’s fur, the beaded bracelets on his wrist shifting slightly with the movement. Taehyung looked up at a quiet Jungkook and Jimin from underneath his long lashes. His brown eyes shifted from the two of them and back to Eunjae, before he leaned closer to them in order to be heard over the rap line’s conversation. 

“Psst!” His not so subtle hiss drew the attention of everyone on the couch to him. “Hungry?”

“Always.” Jungkook patted a hand to his flat stomach, leaning around Jimin to insert himself into the conversation. 

“A little.” Jimin responded in English and Eunjae figured that it had something to do with trying to include her in the discussion. She sent him a small, thankful smile at his actions, receiving an adorable eye smile in return. 

“Let’s go.” Taehyung’s lips pulled back into his familiar boxy smile. “Get food.”

“Where?” Jungkook answered this time. His initial wall shyness around Eunjae must have been broken down at the prospect of food because he had no trouble voicing his thoughts.

“Tricycle!” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows playfully, looking back and forth between the three of them.

“Tricycle.” Taehyung nodded as if Jimin had just blessed them with some very wise words. “Yes.”

He turned his questioning gaze to Eunjae with a raised brow. “Come. Yes?”

“Uh.” To say that she was a little taken aback would be an understatement. Were they really inviting her, a virtual stranger, along with them like she’d been apart of their friend group for years? With a glance back at Jimin’s friendly brown eyes and Jungkook’s vigorous nodding, Eunjae gave a tiny shrug in answer. “Sure?”

“Hyungs!” Taehyung suddenly stood from the couch, stretching his arms over his head with a tiny yawn. The rap line all turned their attention from where they were replaying the track on a loop to find discrepancies. “Need us?”

Whatever Namjoon responded to the question must have been a negative, because Taehyung shot everyone on the couch a grin of victory. “Food!” 

Eunjae only had Taehyung to thank when she found herself stuffed in the backseat of one of Big Hit’s smaller cars with, hand clenched around her seatbelt tightly. Jungkook sat up in the driver’s seat. When he’d gotten his license, Eunjae wasn’t sure. But god, she was starting to have regrets at deciding to tag along due to his crazy ass driving.

The rap line had granted the maknae line permission to go wherever it was that they were taking her. Hoseok had waved her along with a smile when Eunjae had shot him a questioning look, urging her to follow Jimin’s gentle tugging out the door. When the maknae line had gotten so comfortable around her to initiate such casual skinship, she wasn’t sure. But Eunjae reminded herself of the words that Taehyung had spoken to her on the roof a few hours prior.

“Makes us friends. Family.”

So Eunjae stuffed her feelings of apprehension deep down into the recesses of her mind. She was grateful to have been accepted so easily with the members. It seemed like the anxieties that had been plaguing her all day were for nothing. 

Turning her attention from the surprisingly darkened streets outside the car window, Eunjae looked over to Jimin who sat on the other side of the backseat. The sunlight had long since faded into night. She must have been in the studio with Bangtan longer than she’d thought for it to be so late already. Taehyung was busy in the front seat thumbing through radio stations. He would settle on one station for about thirty seconds before he made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat and twisted the tuning knob once again. Jungkook was too busy paying rapt attention to the road stretched out in front of them, both hands gripping the steering wheel and eyes narrowed in concentration. 

Eunjae played with the face-mask gripped in between her fidgeting fingers before aiming a question at the grey haired man next to her. “Is it really okay I’m here?”

Jimin pulled his eyes up from his phone to shoot her a confused look. His head tilted to the side, the hair hidden beneath his hood falling into his brown eyes. He spoke slowly, tongue tasting the words before he let them leave his mouth. “Why not?” 

“Because,” Eunjae began, “of fans? ARMY?”

Taehyung finally paused in his rigorous search for a radio station, hand falling from the knob so he could twist around in his seat. The deep voices of some random talk show filtered through the car’s speakers. “What about ARMY?”

Eunjae’s fidgeting stilled at his bewilderment. Her eyes flickered back and forth between Jimin and Taehyung. “If I’m seen, it’ll be a scandal.”

“Oh.” Jimin’s eyebrows jumped up, hiding beneath the softness of his bangs. “No worry.”

“Don’t worry?” What was that supposed to mean? 

Taehyung shot her a confident smile, patting a hand against the thick coat covering his chest. “Trust.” 

Well, what could Eunjae really say to that? She bounced her gaze back and forth between the two once more before giving a little shrug and relaxing back against her seat. “Okay. I’ll trust you.” 

And she did. Eunjae trusted that they wouldn’t do anything to put her or themselves in any danger. They’d been apart of the K-pop music business for years. Surely they knew how to traverse situations like these in order to not get caught, right?

Eunjae didn’t really have much time to dwell on the thought before Jungkook was pulling the car through a wide back alley and parking off to the side. She didn’t even want to think about the legalities of parking there. Besides, it wasn’t like she would really know anyway seeing as how she didn’t even have her driver’s license. 

“Masks on.” Taehyung’s deep voice addressed the car, flapping the cotton of his own face mask around the interior of the car before letting out a giggle at his own dramatics.

The booth the group of them settled into was placed all the way at the back of the small cafe they found themselves in. Whatever area the boys had dragged Eunjae to must have been one that didn’t see a lot of foot traffic since there wasn’t anyone else in the place. Well that, and she saw the boy who worked the cafe counter lock the front door at their entrance.

The shades at the front were drawn down, giving the small cafe a cozy feel. The small tricycle hanging from the center of the ceiling was where Eunjae figured the name came from. A few tables and booths were spaced out, the plush dark seating and wooden tables popping out against the brightly colored walls. 

Eunjae wasn’t hungry. Hell, she wasn’t even sure if she could eat food anymore. Not that she’d want to anyway with the off-putting taste. But based on the fact that Hoseok had stopped being able to process food, she figured that the same would go for her. 

So there she sat, squished in a small booth between Jimin and Jungkook, fingers playing with the cold glass of water on the table in front of her. For some reason that Eunjae was sure had a scientific explanation, she was able to drink water just fine. Whether or not her body needed it was something that she was unsure about. She didn’t particularly crave it, but the mere fact that she could still drink it without the lingering taste of garbage was comforting. 

“Jae-yah.” Jimin’s voice brought all eyes in the booth to him. He leaned forward onto the table, chin propped in his hands. “Question.”

The cheeky grin on his face only spoke of trouble, and Eunjae narrowed her eyes at the man playfully. They’d already asked her for her age on the car ride over. And the 95 liners had cheered at the fact that she was born the same year as them and had taken to adding the friendly honorific to her name. 

“Yes, Jiminie?” Eunjae raised a brow at the man.

“You are ARMY?” Jimin’s cheeky grin only grew at her slow nod, lips spread wide to reveal his crooked front tooth. 

Jungkook made hummed in interest. He’d been quiet for most of the time. Whether or not that had to do with the fact that he was shy around women, Eunjae wasn’t sure. But the maknae leaned forward at the question with a mischievous smile of his own. He must have known where the question was going based on the look he shared with Jimin.

“Who is,” Jungkook picked up before Jimin could, putting the English skills that Namjoon tutored him in to good use. He ran his tongue between his lips before he continued. “Bias?”

Eunjae huffed a laugh at the expectant look on all of their faces. She shrugged, taking her time to answer the question as she took a slow pull from her glass of water. Not being able to help playing along, she smirked around her straw. “Guess.”

“Me!” Jungkook spoke confidently, leaning back into the booth with his arms crossed over his chest. “Right, noona?”

She had to stop herself from choking on her water at his new nickname for her. Jungkook stared up at her with doe eyes, lips pulled up into a pout. Eunjae almost got whiplash from how quick he’d been to shift from self-assured to adorable bun. Where the hell had his shyness gone?

“No.” Taehyung shook his head, hand propped under his chin as he chewed his lip in thought. “Hoseokie-hyung.”

Jimin nodded at Taehyung’s words. “Hobi-hyung.”

Brow raised at their quick answers, Eunjae opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off as the cafe worker emerged from the back (what was up with her bad luck with conversations getting interrupted?). The boy approached their booth with a tray full of steaming food, immediately stealing the boy’s attention.

The waiter’s silky chestnut brown hair was parted down the middle, exposing his tan forehead as his bangs framed either side of his soft face. The dark blue apron tied around his waist matched with his white button down shirt and black pants. The boy’s petal plush lips pulled back to reveal perfect white teeth at the enthusiastic shouts of the hungry maknae line.

And it was either her imagination, or Taehyung’s gaze lingered quietly on the waiter’s longer than necessary. But by the way that the boy’s cheeks flushed a pretty pink when Taehyung flashed him a shy smile, Eunjae was sure that it wasn’t just her imagination.

But it wasn’t her business either. 

Eunjae did her best to busy herself with her phone while the boys dug into their food like starved men. Her fingers hovered over the latest text thread with Miles, thumbing across the screen. She felt Jimin’s sudden presence leaning over her shoulder, but ignored him as she typed out a reply. 

“Boyfriend?” His voice came out somewhat muffled by the food he had stuffed between his cheeks. Jimin’s expression was a cross between curious and something else Eunjae couldn’t identify. 

But his question had her letting out a loud laugh. “Hell no. Best friend.”

Jimin paused in his food stuffing, licking the crumbs from the corner of his mouth. “ARMY?”

“Big ARMY.” Eunjae’s lips tilted up in a playful smirk. Miles would absolutely kill her if she embarrassed him in any way, which was exactly why she had to. She’d be a bad friend if she didn’t. “Loves you the most.”

“Me?” Jimin pointed a finger at himself in question, eyes bulging in surprise. 

“Mhm. Actually.” Her face lit up with a sudden thought, rapidly pressing a few buttons on the screen of her phone before holding it up for Jimin to see. “Can I?”

Jimin gave a tiny shrug at her question, expression changing into something a little more shy. He eyed the device in her hand for a moment longer before nodding. “Sure.”

The sound of Miles’ sharp screech echoed throughout the empty cafe the second he picked up the FaceTime call. And it was all Eunjae could do to stop herself from crying of laughter at his stunned, starstruck face.

“What the fuck? Oh, shit!”

(8:45pm) J.H.: Home?

Stretched out on her bed underneath the thick comforter, Eunjae paused from where she’d been lazily scrolling through her twitter feed. She’d gotten home from the cafe with the boys about an hour ago. They’d all ended up back at the apartment building instead of back at Big Hit since they were done for the day. Not only that, but apparently Eunjae had to head to the company’s stylist department early the next morning. At least, that’s what Soyeon had shot over in a text. It seemed that Bang Sihyuk hadn’t been joking around when he’d talked to her about the internship. 

She hadn’t talked to or seen Hoseok since earlier that day before they’d left the company. They hadn’t been super big into texting each other throughout the day, especially since the man was so busy, so the fact that he was texting her now must have been important. 

(8:45pm) Eunjae: Yeah. You?

  (8:47pm) J.H.: Just got home.

(8:47pm) J.H.: Hungry?

Hoseok’s question brought Eunjae’s attention to her grumbling stomach. She still wasn’t used to needing someone else in order to survive. Which inadvertently caused her to constantly forget that she couldn’t simply shove food down her throat to sate her hunger. Not only that, but Eunjae wasn’t sure how to go about even telling Hoseok that she needed him. She didn’t want to burden him, or pull him away from his busy schedule just to tend to her needs. 

If Eunjae was anything, it was independent. She preferred to do things on her own instead of going to others for help. Which was exactly why she’d let Hoseok take the lead, since the man definitely didn’t have the same qualms as her. 

                                                                                       (8:49pm) Eunjae: A little.

                                                                                      (8:49pm) Eunjae: Are you? 

(8:51pm) J.H.: I am.

                                                              (8:52pm) Eunjae: Want me to come over?

(8:54pm) J.H.: I’ll come to you. 

(8:54pm) J.H.: That okay?

                                                                                      (8:55pm) Eunjae: Sure.

(8:57pm) J.H.: Be there in a few.

Either Hoseok had become fluent in English in the last few hours that Eunjae had seen him, or he was using the translator on his phone. Either way, she had maybe five-ten minutes to get her act together. Or however long it took Hoseok to arrive at her door. 

Eunjae speedily threw the covers off her body and ran around her bedroom, picking up the clothes haphazardly thrown around. Soyeon had been good on her word and sent someone to drop her new clothes off while she’d been out. But between the exhausting day and jet lag pulling at her dry eyes, Eunjae had been too lazy to put any of them away. Instead, she’d uncaringly pawed through the colorful plastic bags in search of pajamas to take a shower.

Which reminded her to throw on a pair of cotton shorts, since she only tended to wear a shirt and panties to bed. And Eunjae didn’t think that Hoseok would want to see her in all of her half-naked glory. Not that there was much to see anyway, due to the fact that she unfortunately had the body of a twelve year old boy. Rolling her eyes with a huff, Eunjae had just shut the closet door when she heard knocking at the front door. 

Her feet padded against the carpeted floor as she approached the front door. It swung open to reveal a tired looking Hoseok. He’d changed from his outfit earlier in the day and into a pair of comfy looking black sweatpants and a plain grey T-shirt. His dark hair was slightly damp from what must have been a recent shower and his skin was cleared of whatever makeup he’d been put in for the day.

Hoseok greeted her with an exhausted smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Eunjae stepped to the side to let the man inside. He crossed the threshold, toeing off his shoes as he went. Eunjae still wasn’t used to the Korean culture of wearing slippers indoors, so she had yet to get any. Hiding her wince, she hoped he wouldn’t mind.

“So,” Eunjae closed the door softly, turning to meet Hoseok’s gaze. “Where do you wanna do this?”

His lips twitched in amusement at her question and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweats with a shrug. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Um.” She tried to ignore how suddenly strange and intimate the moment felt. It was only Hoseok, for christ’s sake! Not like she hadn’t been practically glued to his side for half of the day. “Do you want to lie down? Or sit?” 

The yawn that stretched his jaw intermingled with his response as he reached up to cover his mouth. “Down.”

“Okay. Bed it is.” Eunjae nodded to herself before leading Hoseok down the hall. She tried to cover her sudden nervousness. Sure, it wasn’t like they had anything romantic between them, but the thought of cuddling up on a bed with the man snatched all of her bravado. 

As they made it to her bedroom, Eunjae forced down the subconscious feeling prickling at her nerves when she saw the way Hoseok’s eyes took in his surroundings. The room was pretty plain since she had yet to have to opportunity to decorate. It was still only her first official day in the country after all. 

“Make yourself at home.” She waved a hand into the room, letting Hoseok step past her. The only light in the room came from a small lamp perched on one of the end tables on either side of the king sized bed. Her comforter was turned down on one side of the bed, the other, far side, was still neatly made.

Hoseok crossed to the untouched side of the bed and sank down on top of the blankets without hesitation. He let out of sigh of what sounded like relief as he stretched his long limbs out on the surface. Opening his eyes, he turned his head to where Eunjae was still standing in the doorway and stifled a laugh into his hand, tired eyes crinkled with amusement.

He waved his other hand at her playfully. “Coming?”

Eunjae did her best to ignore Hoseok’s mirth at her frozen state and forced her feet to move towards the bed. The mattress dipped under her weight as she shuffled underneath the blanket. Something about being hidden underneath the covers settled her nerves a little. With a glance at where Hoseok was wearily rubbing his eyes, Eunjae scooted a little closer. 

She didn’t get the chance to suppress a squeak of surprise when his arm came out and pulled her the rest of the way to him. Eunjae’s forehead rested in the dip between his shoulder and chest, the fresh scent of his body wash invading her senses. But that was nothing compared to the feeling of warmth and home that spread through her like wildfire. 

Eunjae’s tense muscles relaxed under his touch and she could have sworn she felt his do the same. The fact that the feeling of his comforting heat was starting to become second nature to her was a little scary. Sure, it was definitely not the first time that they’d been pressed up against each other, but that was different from being snuggled straight up to one another like they were. 

If Hoseok was at all uncomfortable or discomfited about the situation, he didn’t show it. Instead, he rested his hand gently between her shoulder blades. His warm, hushed breath brushed the crown of her head as he mumbled, “okay?”

Tilting her head up slightly, Eunjae forced herself not to react to how close his face was to hers. Hoseok’s eyes were already closed, lips partially parted. Her voice came out whispered into the silence. “Okay.” 

She tried to stay in the land of the conscious. She really did. 

But the steady sound of his heart beating beneath her ear lured her into the calm, quiet bliss of sleep.

[something-tofightfor]

Ink II

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader

Word Count: 5225

Rating: M (Language, implied smut, drug use, drinking)

Author’s Note: Continuing Ink (found on my Logan masterlist) has been on the radar for months, but I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do with it... Until now. 2020 might honestly be the Year of Logan Delos, and I can’t say that I’m mad about it. 

Summary: Picking up a few months after Logan makes an admission to you in the Mesa, you’re faced with a big shift in your relationship (whatever that may be): going to your first Delos event as his date. 

Ask if you want to be added or removed, please!

General:

@the-blind-assassin-12 @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @obscurilicious @sweetybuzz25 @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @gollyderek @poindexted @ificouldhelpyouforget @elanor-of-imladris @thesandbeneathmytoes @luminex3 @geeksareunique @weallhaveadestiny @mfackenthal @thesumofmychoices @yannii04 @beautiful-thinking @drinix @agentlingerie  @blah-blah-fuckit-shit  @dreams-with-thoughts  @wangmangagavroche @traeumerinwitzhelden @jigsawlover10​

Logan Delos:

@nananananananananananabatman @damalseer @chibiyanai @life-is-a-melody @songtoyou​

Uncategorized: 

@banditthewriter @padfootagain @madamrogers @ethereal-heavcns @editboutique @marauderskeeper @ilkaeliseb​ @delicatelilyflower​ @king4thesirens​ @ymariejp​ @mr-robot-x​ @rageshots​ @introvertedlibrary​ @writing-for-a-chance​ @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals​ @likeorions​ @swiftyhowlz​ @dylanobrusso​ @malik-payne​ @lynne1993​ @ladyblablabla​ @dreamwritesimagines​ @audreychaz​ @tc-elliot @kind-wolf​ @honeyydippaa​ @binbonsadoration​ @ms-delos​ @jeanettexkillian​ @avengerswhore @elioelioeli0​ @projectcampbell​ @giggleberts​ @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes​

“Are you ready to go?” He was standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt - the top two buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows - and you watched from across the room as he rolled his neck, using both hands to smooth his hair back. “We’re gonna be later than usual.” With a laugh, you stepped toward him, hands behind your neck as you knotted the the straps of your dress. 

“Tie the bottom for me, Logan?” He turned from the mirror and toward you, dark eyes moving from your face to your neck, his hands already reaching out. “I can reach, but I figured you’d want to…” He placed his hands on your shoulders, gently turning you and you let him, facing the direction that you’d just come from. 

 “Everyone’s gonna…” He dropped his hands, fingers skimming the skin of your back until they reached the gentle inward curve only a few inches above your waist. “They’re finally gonna see all of it.” Biting your lip and looking down, you took a breath as Logan pulled on the thin strings, tightening them. “We picked the right dress.” He leaned in, teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you.” Isn’t that the point? In the months since you’d taken the trip to Westworld with him and Logan had admitted that he wanted more than to simply fuck you, things had changed a great deal. 

 You’d been out in public with him, out for dinner and drinks and dates; days and nights spent next to Logan, learning more about each other outside of the confines of the office or a bedroom. It was strange for you at first, to know that it was what he wanted, that his words hadn’t been for show at the Mesa, but every minute of time you spent with Logan made the reality of it seem more possible. He wants me. “Logan, are you sure that -” He cut you off, spinning you around to face him, and the smile that Logan gave you stopped your words immediately. He kept one hand at your waist, his touch light over the thin fabric of the dress you wore. 

 “Yes.” He leaned in, one of his hands rising, a finger stretched out to trace the curve of your cheek. “I’m sure.” Logan leaned in, lips close to your ear. “You look incredible.” You shivered at his words, knowing that he could feel the movement of your body, and Logan’s grip on your hip tightened slightly. “No one’s gonna say shit to you, I promise you.” It wasn’t that you didn’t believe him, but you knew that he was partially wrong. They might not say it to me, but they’ll think it. 

 In the months since you and Logan had started spending time together not only actively undressing each other, you’d heard the rumors, watched as people started looking at you in a slightly different way. You were used to the staring, used to people judging you for the choices you made when it came to your appearance, but people raising their eyebrows and whispering behind your back because of who you were dating? That was different - but it wasn’t any less disheartening. 

 You hadn’t mentioned it to Logan, because there was no point. Sarah from HR rolled her eyes as Logan slid into a seat across from you in the cafeteria? Anna in marketing muttered about your reputation as she dropped off printouts? Kyle in IT made a snide comment about it not taking long for you to fall into Logan’s bed … it was all a part of the scenery for you, because you were used to brushing off people’s comments, but you knew that if Logan knew, things wouldn’t turn out well for the people saying them. It wasn’t that you needed or wanted Logan to fight your battles for you, but you knew that he would, simply because he cared about you and was no longer pretending otherwise. 

 The trip to Westworld had gone as planned - the two of you visiting to experience a new narrative before it was opened to the public - before even the Delos board members got a chance to experience it - but Logan hadn’t remained as distant throughout as he typically did when you’d worked together previously. The two of you talked - freely and openly - while in the park, and though you’d focused on the experience (that was your job, after all, to document the offerings of the park for informational purposes as well as park records), you’d focused on each other, too. Logan asking about your tattoos had truly been an opening for him, and while he tried to remain respectful, he wasn’t shy. 

 By the time you arrived back stateside, you felt as if you and Logan were friends instead of just acquaintances that slept together. The dates had started almost immediately - meeting him for dinner at his place or inviting him to yours, going out to a movie, spending time with Juliet … Logan had done many things with you, but he hadn’t introduced you to the lifestyle that you knew he often indulged in, and you’d kept yourself busy for hours trying to figure out why. 

 He’d said that he wanted you with no one else, but even months later, you still couldn’t find a way to repeat the sentiment to him without feeling pushy. “How far away is this thing, Logan?” You leaned closer to him, turning your head to kiss his bearded jaw. “And when do we have to leave?” There was a pause before Logan answered you and during it, he changed the way he was holding you, the hand at your hip sliding around to your back and the one that had been touching your face going around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest. 

 “Gotta leave in about fifteen minutes.” He took a deep breath. “And it’s about an hour ride there, plus an open bar, so I called a car.” Hmm. You pulled away, glancing up at Logan with a raised eyebrow and one side of your lower lip caught between your teeth. “Don’t get any ideas.” Logan’s eyes shone brightly, but his expression was serious otherwise. “This is…” He swallowed. “The first time we’re goin’ to a Delos event together, and I don’t want either of us to get out of that car looking like we just got redressed.” He straightened up, putting space between your bodies and you reached out, running a hand down the front of his shirt to smooth it down, stopping at his waist, where the dark blue material was tucked into a pair of fitted white pants. “Besides, I’ve got a lot of things to tell you about the people you’ll be meeting, so…” Logan shrugged. “Another time.” 

 “Yeah, like on the way home?” You tugged on the front of his pants for a second before stepping away, your hands dropping to your sides. “I mean, we will have an hour…” Logan laughed as you turned away, heading toward the guest bedroom, where all of your things were. Though you slept in Logan’s room with him when you stayed, your toiletries remained in a different bathroom, along with your overnight bag. Turning the corner, you shook your head, unable to keep the smile from your face. It’s getting easier to joke with him. 

 Stepping in front of the mirror and rummaging through your bag, you picked out a lipstick shade that would compliment your makeup and was ideal for the late afternoon event, giving yourself a final onceover while you brushed your teeth and then applied the lipstick. Your debut with Logan would be at a yacht party with many of the Delos department leads and managers - a late summer event that was meant to recognize achievements and provide an afternoon and evening of celebration, and one day while laying by his pool, Logan had sprung the invitation on you. Following that, he’d told you that there was no one else he wanted to go with, and that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

 So there you were - wearing a dress that - at Logan’s request - showed off your entire back, but was otherwise modest. You’d selected it while staying mindful of the fact that there’d likely be a breeze on the water, so it couldn’t be short or have a side slit, choosing a color that could handle a little ocean spray without becoming indecent, and picking something that you felt comfortable in, yet wasn’t inappropriate to wear while surrounded by people that had more money and influence than you’d ever know what to do with. He wants you there. You took a breath, pressing your lips together on a kleenex to blot your lipstick, and nodded. You’ll be fine. “Hey!” You heard Logan calling your name. “Car’s pulling up, you ready?” I guess so. 

 --- 

 By the time you pulled up to the marina’s entrance, you were equal parts nervous and excited, and the ride over hadn’t done much to sway you in either direction. Though you knew many of the people that would be on board, you found that your heart was beating quickly as Logan helped you out of the car, his long fingers closing around yours. It was cooler by the water, the air fragrant with the scent of the ocean, and you couldn’t help looking around as the two of you walked toward the large vessel that was waiting for you, Logan handing over the invitation to the man waiting at the end of the boarding ramp, the fingers of his other hand still loosely holding yours. 

 As you crossed the short distance to the deck, Logan’s grip tightened. “Shoes off when we get across.” You looked up at him, confused, and he smirked at you, but it wasn’t an unkind expression. “The deck wood is really easily scuffed, so…” He shrugged. “Either you go barefoot on board, or …” He grinned, gesturing to a stack of small boxes that were stacked neatly to the left of the ramp. “Boat shoes.” You laughed, stepping to the side and taking your shoes off, Logan doing the same. A crew member was waiting, and when Logan gave his name, the man turned away, returning only a few moments later with a basket containing two pairs of shoes. What? “They’re one of the gifts,” he mumbled. “Jules’ idea.” Of course.

 Trading your shoes for the new ones, you slipped them on and waited for Logan to do the same before he steered you toward the stern of the ship, nodding to a few people as you passed them. “Have you rented this before?” Logan shook his head as the two of you passed through a doorway and into the yacht’s interior, Logan focused on the bar. “It’s nice, I -” 

 “Oh, wow.” You heard her voice before you saw the woman, and even though Logan kept moving toward the bar, you stopped, turning. “That dress looks great on you!” Smiling, you squeezed Logan’s hand to stop him. “Logan, you’re not even going to -”

 “Hey, Juliet.” Logan turned back to you, his tone clipped. “Going to the bar before it gets too busy.” You glanced over at him, watching as he fought to keep his eyes on his sister, avoiding the blonde man standing next to her. “Good to see you.” Logan took a breath. “What do you want, your usual?” Giving him an understanding look, you nodded in agreement, feeling his fingers slip out of yours as he turned back toward the bar, stepping away. “I wasn’t at the last summer party, I’d just had Emily, and was in no shape to…” She waved her hand. “Drink or enjoy myself or…” 

 “Yeah, it was a good time, though.” The blonde man spoke, and you watched his eyes moving around the room. “We weren’t on the water, but…” His jaw twitched and you watched him shrug. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” He held out his hand, the look in his eyes appraising. “I’m William, Juliet’s husband. You are...?” Be nice. Logan had told you the bare minimum of what had happened between himself and William, and had warned you that he was working on payback, working on exposing William, but wasn’t quite there yet. Telling the man your name as you extended your own hand, you forced yourself to meet his eyes, smiling. Don’t. “And you’re here tonight with Logan?” You nodded, pulling your hand away from William’s. “That’s a surprise, usually -”

 “Why a surprise, Billy?” Logan stepped back next to you, a cold glass passing from his fingers to yours, his free hand again settling on your back, this time somewhere near the middle, his thumb moving back and forth. “Hmm?” The blonde man didn’t say anything, instead looking between you and Logan for a few seconds before he turned to his wife and forced a smile. 

 “I’m going to go and see if Joseph and Lan are here yet, Juliet.” He cleared his throat, eyes moving back to you. “It was… Have fun tonight.” With a nod, he turned and walked away, disappearing out the door that you and Logan had entered through. Asshole. You spoke with Juliet for a few minutes and then you and Logan kept moving, headed through the room and toward the steps, taking them up to the top level of the yacht, which was set up with small couches and tables, another small bar area and a few potted plants. This is… You frowned as you looked around, letting Logan lead you to the front of the ship with a hand on your back, trying to listen to what he was saying, making note of the people that he was pointing out. 

 “We’ve got another twenty or so minutes before we cast off, so it’s gonna get more crowded.” You and Logan were standing next to the rail, facing the open ocean. “You alright?” Taking a breath, you thought. Am I? 

 “Logan, I -” You took a breath, tilting your head upward and looking at the sky - mostly blue, a few small clouds here and there - still unsure. “I’m…”

 “Hey.” He used one arm to turn you toward him, his head shaking back and forth quickly. “Look, I know this isn’t something that you’re used to.” You nodded, staring into his eyes. “But it’s just a few hours, and…” He swallowed, wetting his lower lip with his tongue quickly. “And I never bring anyone important to these things, but I want…” He swore under his breath. “I know how that sounds.” Logan pressed his lips together and you saw his nose twitch before he pulled a hand up and ran it over his face, then drained the remainder of his drink in one long swallow.  

 “Logan, what -” He let a breath out, words rushing after it. 

 “I’ve never brought anyone sober to a Delos party before.” Your eyes widened, but he continued. “We’re both sober right now, and I brought you here because I want to introduce you to people, not because I want them to keep their distance.” Oh, Logan. “Not that… not that I don’t want you to drink, I -”

 “Logan.” You reached out, squeezing his right forearm. “I get it.” He stopped speaking, watching you. “This isn’t…” You glanced around, returning your gaze to Logan and deciding that since he’d told you the truth, you’d do the same. “I’m a little uncomfortable here, just because…” You shrugged. “These people don’t know me outside of work, and they’re meeting me and seeing…” You smiled, tilting your head. “Seeing me and me with you? It’s a lot, and I know that they’re going to…” Your hand moved up his arm as you stepped closer to him. “I don’t even know what to say when people ask what…”

 “You’re with me.” The words were simple enough to understand, but the matter of fact tone that he used was at odds with the way he’d just sounded and it shocked you. “That’s what I’m gonna tell anyone that asks, that we’re together.” Are we? You opened your mouth to question him, but Logan cut you off, his eyes warm and bright. “Unless you’d rather tell ‘em something else?” You shook your head and Logan ducked his head, his lips finding yours for a moment before they moved to to your cheek and then to your ear. “Good.” 

 He pulled away from you and stood straight up, turning his head to look at the dock before focusing on you again, much more relaxed than he had been previously. “You were right, Logan.” Raising one eyebrow you gestured to the deck below you, which had filled up quite a bit. “A lot of people boarded in the last few minutes.” Logan reached out again with his right hand, pulling you to his side before raising his hand to trail his fingers over your back, touch light but there. The two of you stared out over the water until the boat’s horn sounded once, and you felt the deck beneath your feet begin to vibrate as it pulled away from the dock. Here we go. 

 The people around you were talking to each other, their voices carrying to your ears, but you were focused only on Logan, on the way it felt to stand next to him among your peers and his, nothing shy about his touch. This is too good to be true. As you navigated down the channel and toward Balboa Reach, Logan turned his head toward you, looking down. “You’re stuck now.” What? “We’re on this boat for the next seven hours.” He nudged you with his hip and laughed, his eyes darkening. “Too bad we’re not alone.” Yeah, Logan. It is too bad. Your eyes returning to the open water seconds after his did, you tilted your head to the side, resting it against his shoulder. 

--- 

 An hour and two drinks later, you and Logan were seated at one of the rounded tables for dinner, waiting to be served. Though there had been appetizers passed around, and you’d caught a glimpse of more being prepared in the galley as you walked past it on the tour Logan gave you, you were hungry. Eating is a distraction. You’d been introduced to more people than you could remember, men and women reaching out to shake your hands, their eyes filled with curiosity as you spoke with them a few minutes at a time. Managers and supervisors, team leads and executives, Logan talked with all of them with a practiced ease, making sure that you were part of the conversation, never left out. He rarely stopped touching you, a hand on your back, an arm wrapped around your waist, fingers curled between and around yours. It was comforting, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but think that Logan was using you as a buffer, daring someone to make a comment as they walked up or before they walked away. 

 They won’t. You realized this as a beautiful redhead eyed you while her husband spoke to Logan, her gaze darting between the two of you as if she was trying to figure out how you’d ended up with someone like Logan when you weren’t the typical, flawless floozy he was often linked with, and whether or not she could easily slip the diamond off of her finger and into the ocean if Logan more than glanced at her with curiosity. They’re all the same, you realized as you moved to a different group, Logan shaking the hands of the men, and giving the women polite nods before he introduced you. They see him and want him because they think it’s easy, they don’t care… it’s because he’s a Delos. There were exceptions to the rule, of course, and even your limited interaction with the other guests was enough to tell you which employees valued Logan as a person and a businessman and which of them didn’t, wanting only to use him or let themselves be used. 

 He let this happen, though. You reminded yourself that Logan wasn’t dumb - that he knew what people saw him as, what he’d let them expect, and wondered why he’d done that, even as you dropped into your chair, Logan sitting next to you and the other seats filling in slowly. Juliet and William were also at your table, along with a woman named Annie and her wife Jess, as well as a single woman named Diana, who was a little younger than you. Everyone at the table was friendly - aside from William - and as you ate, you let yourself relax, enjoying the company and getting lost in conversation with Diana, who’d been invited to the party based on finding a way to program the Hosts in a much more concise manner which allowed their code to be more successfully encrypted. Annie and Jess worked with Juliet, and William worked directly beneath Logan, and you were stunned at the way they accepted you, even though Logan had told you that it was what would happen. 

 Much more at ease after the final course, you excused yourself to the bathroom, feeling Logan’s eyes on your back as you walked. You stepped into the small room, pausing to look in the mirror and check your hair before entering the stall, locking the door behind you. Even though it was only a few minutes, the relative silence and isolation of the bathroom was a welcome break, and while you were washing your hands, you took a moment to daydream about the car ride home with Logan. Just as you were turning to leave, the door pushed open, two women walking in - one blonde, the other brunette, their eyes on each other as the brunette spoke. 

 “I don’t even understand why he invited her. This party is for people that have done something important at Delos. What’s her achievement, catching Logan’s eye for fifteen minutes?” The second woman laughed, tossing her long blonde hair as she replied. 

 “These events are a death sentence for the people he brings, remember the holiday party tw-” You watched in the mirror as her eyes widened when she saw you, words dying on her lips. “Shit.” 

 “Finish that thought.” Suddenly angry, you crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes. “A death sentence? As in ‘he brings me here and it’s the last you’ll see of me?’ Is that what you mean?” The dark haired woman was silent, but the blonde stepped closer. 

 “Yes.” She drew herself up to her full height, which was a few inches taller than you, even in flat shoes. “That’s how it works, he brings people to parties and no one ever sees them again… at least not with him.” She scoffed. “You should know what you’re getting into, you know?” I do. “Prepare for the -”

 “What, are you waiting for your turn?” Speaking without thinking, you heard the anger in your voice. “Do you even know how hard it would be to work with him after -” 

 “You’ll be able to tell us in a few days, I’m sure.” The first woman finally spoke again, raising a hand to point her finger at the mirror, where your back was visible. “He doesn’t even like tattoos, that’s what he told...” She stopped speaking, her grin growing. What? “You must be -” She laughed, her full lips pushed out once the sound stopped. “He must not have known about them when he took you to bed the first time, but I don’t understand why he let you wear that here, in front of...” 

 “You don’t even know him.” You shook your head. “I don’t need to …” You glanced at the mirror, closing your eyes. “Logan picked this dress out.” Neither woman spoke, and you continued. “And he’s an adult, and so am I.” You smoothed the fabric down over your hips, debating over whether or not to be petty toward them. Fuck it. “And between you and me?” You leaned in, winking. “Logan has no problem with my tattoos whatsoever.” Without another word, you turned and walked out of the bathroom, back toward the room where you’d eaten dinner. Logan was still sitting at the table with Annie, Jess and Diana, but Juliet and William had disappeared. Get it together. Don’t let him… But Logan saw you as you crossed the room and you watched as he excused himself from the table, standing up and walking to meet you. 

 “Hey.” He tried to keep his voice even, but you could hear the worry in his tone. “Everything good?” Logan pulled you to his chest with one hand. “You were gone for a -” 

 “Everything’s fine, Logan.” You turned your head, taking a deep breath. “I just…” Closing your eyes, you let it out. “Face to face with some truth, you know?” You pulled away from him and looked up, trying to smile. “I’ll be fine, I’m…” You felt his hand grip yours, and then the two of you were walking back toward the table, Logan’s steps sure and quick. 

 “Ladies.” Logan’s voice smooth, he dropped your hand and instead wound an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “I hate to cut this short, but we need to…” You watched as he glanced down at you, meeting your eyes. “Something just came up, and we need to go talk.” Jess waved him off with a smile and Diana laughed, telling the two of you to go, which Logan wasted no time doing. Instead of going back upstairs, you followed as Logan walked toward the front of the yacht, guiding you out of the small doorway and onto the deck, which was filled with people talking and drinking, the light beginning to change as the sun started to set. 

 “Where are we -”

 “Just come with me.” There was a young woman dressed in uniform standing near the bow of the ship, blocking access to the more secluded area, but when she saw Logan, she smiled and stepped aside, allowing you to pass. “Shoes off, though, it might be slippery, and I don’t want you to fall.” He waited as you took yours off and then followed suit, nodding once at the woman as you stepped through the opening in the railing. What is he doing? The deck wasn’t slippery, but as you looked around, you realized how right Logan had been. There was little to keep you from falling over the side if you slipped, especially near the small seating area at the very front, which is where it seemed you were going. “Figured we could talk up here.” Logan gestured to the cushioned seat. “Only ones allowed up here tonight are me an’ Jules, and she won’t bring Billy up here, so…” 

 Logan sat and without warning, pulled you down onto his lap, arms tight around your waist and his nose buried in the crook of your neck and shoulder. You sat in silence, the wind blowing gently around you and your focus on Logan’s hold on you. It was easy to forget the words and intent of the two women in the bathroom, of the redhead on deck, of William  when he was holding you, but he couldn’t have his hands on you at all times, and that was the problem. “Logan…” You sighed, feeling as he paused before pressing his lips to the thin skin of your neck and then pulling back, letting you shift so that you could look at him without leaving his lap. “Logan, I -” 

 “Are you having a good time?” He swallowed, eyes serious. “I know that this probably seems like a giant circle jerk, but…” You laughed, shaking your head. “But this is … this isn’t everyone, you know? It’s the people that are … that have…” You got what he was trying to say, nodding. “You might think,” he continued, tilting his head down to kiss you on the shoulder before slowly moving his chin back and forth over the bare skin. “That I’d want…” Logan paused, swearing. “Look.” He swallowed, straightening up. “We haven’t really gone out together, and I know that’s probably… something you’re wondering about.” Yes. “But I don’t… I don’t want to associate this thing we have with just that part of my life.” He stopped speaking, eyes moving past you and out over the water, the ocean flat and calm in front of you. “This is what I want you to think of when you think of me, not… not the booze and the drugs and the sex.” Logan brought his eyes back to yours, pressing his lips together and shaking his head. “We’ll get there  .” You nodded, unconsciously reaching out to run your fingers along his jaw. “But I didn’t think we should start there.” 

 “No.” Your words carried by the wind, you agreed with him. “I know… I’ve heard a lot about you, Logan. About what you’re like and who you’re friends with and what you do when you’re out, but…” One hand  was resting on your hip, the fingers of the other curled over the top of your thigh. “But up until earlier today, I didn’t even know what…” You gestured between the two of you. “This was, and…” He smiled, waiting. “You’ll take me out like that when you’re ready, Logan. I want to get to know you, I want you to show me what you want me to see.” He blinked slowly, disbelief written on his face. “I have no right asking for things fr-”

 “You have every right.” Floored, you stopped speaking, your hand frozen against his skin. “Whatever you want, wherever you want to go, whatever you want to do.” Logan swallowed again, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. “Just ask.” Shocked by his words and the almost brutal honesty that he was showing you only ten yards away from more than a hundred of his employees, you couldn’t do anything but nod, taking a deep breath. You knew that it was hard for Logan to be open with people; honesty wasn’t an issue, but showing vulnerability was, and it was something that you knew he wasn’t used to. Oh, Logan. I had no idea. 

 “Ok, Logan.” Tilting your head to kiss him on the mouth, you agreed with him. “I hear you.” You turned again,pressing your back against his chest as the two of you sat and watched the water for a few minutes, the interaction you’d had in the bathroom fading further away as you moved across the surface of the water. You weren’t just seeing Logan, weren’t just one of the people in his life at the present time, weren’t relegated to his bedroom or the occasional date, but what did that make you? Girlfriend? Lover? Neither of those sound right. He’d said that you were with him, and from what he was saying, that seemed to mean exclusively, but still… do we need a title? Do I need a title? 

 “Hey.” Logan’s voice was quiet in your ear. “Now that we’ve talked about that…” You smiled, waiting. “You need to tell me what happened when you were in the bathroom before we go back to the party.” 

---

[writteninthestars288]

Giving In (Billy Hargrove x Reader)

Soooooo, I know I have been stalled on my other projects for a super long time but I have recently followed down a rabbit hole that involves Billy from Stranger Things. This popped into my head and for the first time in a while, I have had the inspiration to write and thus, this was born. So please let me know what you think and I promise to try and update my other works soon. I think I might finally be back in the swing of things!

________________________________________________________________

“My girl is looking fucking hot today.”

You let out an annoyed sigh when you heard the deep voice behind you. You shut your locker and spun around.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Hargrove? I’m not your girl.”

If there was one person in Hawkins you could not stand, it was Billy Hargrove. He was just way too cocky for his own good. He hadn’t even been in Hawkins for a few months before he started sleeping with almost every female in your grade. Every day as you walked down the hall, you would hear a new girl giggling and laughing as she told her friends something Billy did or said to her. 

You never could stand guys like that, especially since your own father turned out to be the same way. So you made the choice to actively avoid Billy and it worked too until about a month ago. You had been walking out of the locker room after cheer practice. You hadn’t been watching where you were walking and you had accidentally walked right into a hard chest. 

“Oh my god, I am so…” You trailed off as you looked up, coming face to face with Billy Hargrove. 

“Nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart,” he said, finishing your sentence for you. You watched as his eyes trailed up and down your body, a smirk planted firmly on his face as he locked eyes with you. “Not everyday a pretty thing like you just walks right into me.”  You barely refrained from rolling your eyes as you pulled your books closer to your chest.

“Yeah well, sorry,” you mumbled as you went to walk by. You stopped however when an arm blocked your path. 

“Whoa not so fast, princess. I didn’t even get your name.” You let out a silent sigh as you looked up at him. He still had a smirk on his face and his eyes stayed locked on yours. You had to admit he was handsome but he reminded you too much of your father. You tried to walk the other way but he just laughed and put his other arm out.

“Come on now, don’t be rude, babe. I’m just trying to be friendly.”

You dug your nails into the palm of your hand. Maybe if you just gave him your name, he’d leave you alone.  “[Y/N]”

Billy raised an eyebrow as he gave you a toothy grin. 

“[Y/N],” he repeated. “Pretty name for a pretty lady.”

You felt another eye roll coming on and just gave a tight smile. “Thanks. Now if you’ll excuse me.” You went to walk by again but Billy blocked you again.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me my name, [Y/N]?”

She could feel her patience slipping. She had a long day and practice took a lot out of her. The last thing she wanted was to play whatever game Billy thought of.

“I know who you are. You’re the new guy who has slept with half the girls in the school. You’re the guy that beat up Steve Harrington and the guy who holds the keg record.”

Billy’s grin grew as he leaned against the wall, still blocking your path.

“So you’ve heard of me. Names Billy. Billy Hargrove.” He reached out and took your hand. He went to raise it to his lips but you pulled it away at the last second, something that surprised him. 

“Like I said, I know who you are. Now if you excuse me, I have homework to do.” You walked around him before he could stop you. 

Billy furrowed his eyebrows and turned around to watch you walk out to the parking lot. 

It was a reaction Billy hadn’t expected. Usually, girls were reduced to puddles right in front of him but not you. You just acted you couldn’t have cared less. You thought by being short with Billy, he’d just move on to try to get in another girl’s pants. What you didn’t know though, was that you had captured his attention. It was after your first meeting that you started seeing Billy more and more. 

“Are you stalking me?” You raised an eyebrow as Billy just so happen to walk by the girl’s locker room right as you walked out. It had been happening all week and she couldn’t stop the question that left her lips. 

Billy raised an eyebrow and put his hands up in a surrender gesture.  “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, [Y/N]. I’m just heading to my car.”

You wanted to smack that stupid smirk he had on his face off but just shook your head and walked off, hearing him let out a quiet laugh. 

The following week, he had come up to you in the library and asked if you wanted to accompany him to Carol’s party she was throwing since her parents were out of town. 

“I can’t. Have to wash my hair that night.”

Billy rolled his eyes as you went back to studying.

“Come on, babe. It will be fun. I’m sure I could show you a good fucking time.” He trailed his fingers down your arm. You clench your jaw as you stood up and put your books back in your bag. Billy raised an eyebrow as you turned to look at him. 

“Look, Billy, I’m not interested. I’m not interested in being just another notch on your bedpost. Why don’t you go ask one of your many followers, I’m sure they’d love it.”

Once again, you walked away leaving Billy without anything to say. He watched your retreating form and clenched his jaw.  He wasn’t used to this. He was used to the girls falling at his feet. Normally he’d just say fuck it and move on to the next girl but there was something about you he couldn’t get over. So instead, he just shrugged and walked out of the library, trying to think of new ways to get to you.

For the last month, he’d pop up everywhere and always made it a point to make some comment. Whether it be about how you looked that day, your hair, your perfume. Anything he could think of, he’d say. On top of that, he also started referring to you as either ‘baby,’ ‘princess,’ or ‘my girl.’

Your cheeks burned slightly but said nothing, deciding on just walking away. Billy smirked as you started walking down the hall to English, he followed wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Well, you could be my girl if you stopped being so stubborn. What are you afraid of huh? Afraid you’ll actually fall for me?”

He snickered as you rolled your eyes again. You shrugged out of his hold as you opened the door to your class. “Trust me, Hargrove, that ain’t it.”

You would never admit this to anyone, especially Billy, but you were afraid. If things were different, you probably would have agreed to go out with Billy when he first asked. Your body responded well to him. You felt a shiver run down your spine every time he wrapped his arms around you. Felt your heartbeat pick up slightly whenever he complimented you.

 But you wouldn’t put yourself in the same shoes your mom found herself in with your dad. You saw what it did to her and you never wanted to go through that. So you kept pushing Billy away, convinced one of these days he would just give up. 

“Then what is it?”

You bit back a smirk as you looked over at Billy, who had taken the desk next to yours. You could see specks of irritation in his eyes.

“What’s the matter? Is the big, bad, Billy Hargrove mad that he isn’t getting what he wants?”

Billy clicked his tongue and lent forward until your faces were inches apart. You swallowed a lump that had formed in your throat as you felt his breath hit your lips.

“Oh princess, I’ll get what I want sooner or later. Always do.”

Your hand tightened on your pencil slightly as he pulled back. 

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

“Come on, [Y/N]! You got to come with us! Tina’s parties are always the best and you haven’t been to a party yet this year.”

You sighed as your friends from cheerleading tried to convince you to go to Tina’s party on Friday night. You weren’t much of a partier, only went to maybe two or three a school year.

“I don’t know guys.”

“What if we said Billy would be there?” 

You furrowed your eyebrows at Haley, the girl who had made the comment. 

“Then I would say it’s a definite no.”

Some of the girls laughed as Haley rolled her eyes. “Oh come on [Y/N], we see how you guys flirt.”

“Okay, I do not flirt with him.”

“Maybe not but he definitely flirts with you.”

You shrugged as you tie your sneakers. “I’ve tried to tell him it won’t work but he won’t listen. Let him waste his breath, he’ll get over it eventually.”

“I doubt it. Linda tried to talk to him the other day after Chemistry and he just ignored her and kept walking until he got to your locker.”

“I think he really likes you,” another girl, Kathy, said. You felt your heart speed up slightly and mentally kicked yourself. Instead, you just let out a small huff.

“Billy doesn’t like anyone. He just doesn’t like to be told no. Can we drop this and go practice now.”

As you walked into the gym, the girl's words played over in your head no matter how much you tried to ignore them. There was no way Billy actually liked you. He only entertained a girl for two days, maybe three before he got bored and moved on. 

“There’s no way,” you mumbled to yourself.

________________________________________________________________

The girls didn’t take no for an answer and dragged you to Tina’s on Friday. You had come up with every excuse in the book as to why you couldn’t go but they bought none of them. Haley had insisted on picking out your outfit. It consisted of high waisted denim shorts, a pink, short-sleeved crop top, and a denim jacket. 

You let a sigh as your group walked into the party. You had already told yourself you would only stay at the party for two hours tops before walking home since you lived on the next street over. 

When you walked in, you saw a few people stop and turn to look at you. Not your friends, you. You passed by a group of girls who were talking and you just so happen to catch some of the conversations.

“That’s the girl Billy is obsessed with. I overheard Tommy telling Carol that he hasn’t even looked at another girl in like a month.”

“I hear she’s playing hard to get. I’m surprised Billy is still wasting his time.”

Your heart fluttered then dropped at the same time.

“Let's go get drinks,” Kathy yelled over the loud music. You guys walked into the kitchen and you heard people chanting outside but couldn’t hear what they were saying or who they were surrounding. You just shrugged and accepted a drink from Haley. 

You had been at the party for about an hour and luckily saw no sign of Billy. Your group had disbanded, some going outside, others going to dance. You stood by the opening of the kitchen, sipping your drink as you watched your friends.

“Hey.” You heard next to you. You turned your head to the left and saw Joseph Atkins standing next to you. Joseph was a popular football player and very easy on the eyes. He was tall with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. He did well in school and sports and was a good guy.

You gave a small smile.

“Hey, Joey. What’s up?”

He shrugged as he stood next to you.

“Not much. I didn’t expect to see you here. Thought parties weren’t your thing.”

You gave a little laugh. “They’re not but Haley and the girls dragged me out. I’m sure after this I’ll have enough human interaction to last me till graduation.”

Joey laughed and you both took sips of your drinks. You saw him check you out from the corner of your eye.

“You uh, you look really pretty.” He raised his voice slightly so you could hear him over the music that had been turned up. 

You felt your cheeks burn slightly but before you could respond, two strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back until you collided with a hard chest. 

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here.” You recognized the deep voice that was in your ear instantly.

You let out a groan before turning your head and seeing Billy. He wasn’t looking at you though. His eyes were planted firmly on Joey, giving the football player a glare.

“Hitting on my girl, Atkins?”

Your eyes widen but before you could say anything, Joey shook his head.

“Sorry, Billy. I didn’t know you guys were together.” 

“We’re n-.” Billy cut you off before you could finish.

“Well, we are so beat it.” Joey just gave a nod before walking away. Your eyes widened even more as you heard Billy laugh. You pushed his hands off of you before spinning around.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Shouldn’t you be over a keg right now instead of worrying about who I’m talking to?”

Your eyes briefly flashed to his bare chest that was on display thanks to him wearing no shirt.

“I already beat my record for the night.” “Yea well good for you. Doesn’t mean you get to come in here and decide who can talk to me.”

Billy just smirked and once again grabbed your waist and pulled you to him. You put your hands on his bare chest, trying to ignore the way he felt as you tried to put distance between you.

“Come on, [Y/N]. He was looking at you like a piece of meat. I mean can’t say as I blame him. You look fucking hot, baby.”

You rolled your eyes.

“And how is that any different from what you do? Least he probably doesn’t just want in my pants.”

At your words, something in Billy changed. The smirk dropped from his face as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

“How do you know that’s all I want?”

You felt your stomach drop and your heart start to race at his words. When he pulled back the look he gave you was too much. You shook your head and pushed his hands off of you before walking away without another word. You made your way upstairs and to the bathroom. You shut the door and leaned against it, taking a few deep breaths.

You closed your eyes and thought of what he said before thinking about your conversation with the girls the other day.

“I think he really likes you.” You recall Kathy saying. 

Then you remembered hearing the random girls earlier tonight. “That’s the girl Billy is obsessed with. I overheard Tommy telling Carol that he hasn’t even looked at another girl in like a month.”

“No, no, no, no, no. He doesn’t actually like me.” You pushed off the door and walked over to the sink. You ran the tap and cupped some water in your hands before splashing it on your face. You closed your eyes and let out a slow breath. Someone pounding their first on the door made you pick your head up. 

“Just a minute,” you called. You grabbed a towel and dry your face. You took one last look in the mirror before going over and unlocking the door before opening. Before you could say anything, you felt yourself being pushed back. Your eyes widened when you saw Billy closing the door and locking it.

“What the hell, Billy?” He turned around and you noticed he still had the look in his eye. “You can’t just come barging-.”

You were suddenly cut off when Billy charged forward and slammed his lips against yours. Your eyes widened and you at first tried to push him off but his hands held your face. Your eyes slowly fluttered shut and you kissed back, placing your hands in his curly locks. His lips were soft against your own and you barely held in a moan. He pushed you up against the wall and started trailing soft kisses down your face to your neck. 

“B-Billy I can’t.” You put your hands on his chest and slightly pushed him back. He let out a sigh and stared at you as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Why do you hate me?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you let Joseph fucking Atkins talk to you and look at you like a piece of meat but if I do it, all I want is to fuck you?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and you shook your head. 

“I don’t hate you, Billy. I don’t know if you know this, but you have quite a reputation around school. Everyone knows that you sleep with one girl and then move on to the next. You stay with one for maybe a week but never longer.” Billy kept his eyes on you as you spoke. “My mom went through the same thing with my dad and it destroyed her. I told myself I would never go through anything like that. No matter how hot the guy is.” Your cheeks burned at the confession and you couldn’t believe you had just said it out loud but it also felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

Billy noticed how your voice wavered when you mentioned your father. You refused to meet his eyes, instead focusing your attention on the floor. You heard Billy sigh before he spoke.

“Look, I know that I’m known for fucking and moving on but come on, [Y/N]. Do you really think I would go on for this long if all I wanted to do was fuck?”

You shrugged. “Boys do stupid things when they’re horny.”

Billy rolled his eyes. “And what about me waiting at your locker every day? Or here’s a question, do you ever remember seeing me in English until a month ago?” You furrowed your eyebrows at his question. Now that he said something, you actually couldn’t remember ever seeing Billy in English until after you bumped into him for the first time. 

“Now I’ll admit, at first I was just trying to see if I could wear you down any but things fucking changed, okay? The day you told me off in the library, I knew you were different. And I liked that.”

You felt your heart once again start to speed up as Billy continued. “I’m not fucking good with this feeling bullshit but trust me when I tell you, if all I wanted was to fuck you, I would have stopped after the day in the library.”

You looked up into his eyes and saw the way he was looking at you. There was no smirk, no playfulness in his voice. He stared hard at you, wanting you to know he wasn’t lying. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I like you [Y/N]. I like that you’re different. I like that you call me on my shit and don’t just throw yourself at me like everyone else. I like you.”

You let out a shaky breath. You never imagined that Billy Hargrove would be standing in front of you, expressing his feelings in his own way. 

“Wow I um, I don’t know what to say, Billy.”

Billy gave a slight nod. “I know this is probably a lot but all I’m asking for is a chance, [Y/N]. This would be new for both of us, but I’m willing to give it a try if you are.”

You thought about it for a minute. There was just something about the way he was talking that made you believe him. You could tell this was something new for him just by the way he kept shifting on his feet and clenching his jaw. And to be honest, you were getting tired of fighting your feelings for him. You took a deep breath and looked at him.

“Okay, Billy. We can try this out.” A grin slowly started to form on Billy’s face as you continued. “But I swear to god, one little slip-up and it’s done and my mom is friends with chief Hopper. He taught me to shoot at a young age.”

Billy laughed and walked towards you. He grabbed your hips and pulled you towards him. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, princess. You won’t regret this. Scouts honor.” 

“You don’t seem like the boy scout type.” 

“You’ll find out soon, babe, that I know quite a few rope tying techniques.” 

You blushed wildly and punched him in the stomach. Billy, however, didn’t even move, instead, he lent down to capture your lips in a deep kiss. You placed your hands on his chest and returned the kiss, both of you allowing yourselves to finally give in to your true feelings.

A/N: Let me know what you think and if you’d like to see more!

[dallas-owns-my-ass]

Hard Love

Dallas Winston Oneshot

Summary: Dallas and the reader get into a fight and he realizes he’s in love. dally flufffffff

Warnings: fighting, violence, cursing, alcohol, dallas winston, this gif 

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     It was one of the colder nights in Tulsa. The wind blew in a way that made me shiver right down to the bone, even with Dally’s leather jacket hanging on my shoulders. We were walking close enough for people to know we were together, his arm slung over my shoulder. It was moments like these that made me realize I loved him. The ones where only his presence was required to make me fall more in love with him. It was the little things. How he walked. How every once in a while he would pull me closer to him, enveloping me in warmth. How he would occasionally place a light kiss on my forehead, giving me tiny butterflies in my stomach. He made me feel like my life had a purpose. Just two young thugs, walking in the night. We were on our way to a local bar, not the ideal place for romance, but Dallas Winston wasn’t the ideal romantic. 

     The moment I stepped into the bar I felt the warmth hit my face. It felt good considering the cold air outside. We sat down at the bar, Dally ordering two beers. It was your typical Friday night; crowded, loud music, flashing lights. As we talked I noticed a group of Socs standing a couple seats away from us. They kept glancing over as they talked loudly, making dirty comments. Dally seemed to notice too for his jaw clenched up and he pulled me closer. Until finally, he had enough.

     “If you don’t learn to watch your mouths, I’m going to bash all your heads in.” he growled. 

     “Well well, if it isn’t Dallas Winston. It would be a shame to get you thrown back in the cooler, especially after you just got out” the lead soc mocked back. 

     “A few months wouldn’t hurt. Especially if it means I get to kick your privileged ass.” Dallas replied cockily, standing up to face him. 

     They were only a foot apart now. I could see the scene unfolding in my head. This would end in a fight. Dally wouldn’t be able to take on all seven of them, even with my help. And he had too much pride to back out. I quickly stood up, following his lead. I grabbed his arm. 

    “Dally, baby, let’s just go.”

     “Yeah c’mon baby, just go.” the soc mocked. 

     This dude couldn’t mind his own business for three seconds, I swear.

     “You couldn’t take all of us anyways.”

     Crack. Dally swung and hit him right in the nose. The soc’s hand flew up to his face which held an expression of shock. It took only three seconds. Then they all jumped on him at once. One thing Dallas and I had in common was that we could keep up in a fight, but seven on two, not even Darry would’ve been able to win. I quickly hopped in on the action, throwing punches, trying to pull Dally out of the mess. It wasn’t long till we got kicked out of the bar. And by we, I mean me and Dally. Even on our side of town the Socs were still favored. 

     You could see the anger radiating off him as we walked to Buck’s. His hands shoved in his jean pockets. It was hard for me to keep up with his large, quick, strides, with me only being 5′2″. It was also because I was in a little pain from the fight. I was probably going to be left with several bruises. I felt bad because Dally’s knuckles were all torn up. 

     “Dally?”

     Silence. I hated when he was like this. It’s so easy for him to fall into these moods, but so hard to pull him out. There was no use trying to reason with him in moments like these. I had to let him cool down. 

     We sat in his room in silence, on opposite sides of the bed. Moments passed, until he finally pulled me into a hug. I hugged him back, inhaling the scent of his cologne. He let go and stroked the side of my face with his thumb, looking deeply into each others eyes. Moments like these were so rare. Moments where his guard was completely down. Moments where he showed genuine affection.

     “Baby I’m sorry.” he said, barely audible.

     “Are you hurt?” he asked, growing with concern as he started to inspect me for injuries. 

     “I’mma be okay. Nothin’ I can’t handle, right?” I let a slight smile form on my lips.

     He did as well, as he got up in search of something. He left the room for a minute or two and came back with a bowl of water and a cloth.

     “For the cut on your lip.” he said with a slight nod.

     My hand rose to my lip. I didn’t even realize I got hit there. I thought to myself as Dally sat down on the bed with the bowl and cloth. He dipped the cloth into the water and brought it gently to my lip. The pressure hurt, even if it was very little. I guess he noticed too, for he pulled his hand away quickly.

     “Sorry. I’m not good at this.”

     He continued tending to my lip for a while longer, until he got it to stop bleeding. I decided to do the same for his hands. I took the cloth from him and grabbed his hand. I pressed the cloth to his wound, applying minimal pressure, but he still squeezed my hand in pain. I repeated this until his hand was clean, and then did the same to his other hand. I put the bowl on one of the dressers in his room. Dally pulled off his shirt and laid down on the bed. I laid down on the bed next to him, snuggling close to him. He pulled the blanket further over us, which smelled strongly like his cologne. It wasn’t long until we drifted off to sleep.

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     I woke up to Dally running his fingers through my hair. We stayed like this for a while. Then, I let it slip.

     “I love you”

     I felt his body tense up. Shit. I fucked up. He got up and started walking around the room, picking up my things.

     “Dally” I said, being ignored.

     “Dally” I repeated.

     “Y/N, you have to go.” he said, handing me my possessions. 

     “Dally listen to--”

     “No” he cut me off.

     “You need to go.” 

     “Now.”

     “No Dally. You’re going to listen to me.”

     “I’m tired of this bullshit. I’m tired of you getting all mad for no reason, refusing to talk about it, and then later acting like nothing happened. I’m tired of your attitudes that appear out of nowhere. I’m tired of you blaming me for everything. It hurts Dallas. It hurts. I love you Dallas. I’d do anything for you. But not this.” 

     Nothing. He said nothing. Just stared. Stared with a hurt look. There was a hint of something else in his eyes, but I couldn’t detect what. Then he masked it up, the only thing apparent in his eyes was anger. I pushed passed him and out the door. Out the door with my shoes barely on and my jacket falling off my shoulders.

     Where I was walking I wasn’t quite sure. I didn’t really have anywhere else to go. My step mom was verbally and physically abusive, so I technically really didn’t have a home. I supposed I would just go to the Curtis house. They were like my older brothers, even if I was older than Pony. I always felt bad for spending so much time at their house, but I haven’t stayed the night in a while because my nights were occupied by Dallas. Darry never really seemed to care though, maybe because I helped him pay bills when I had the money.

     I knocked at the door because the lights were still on. What time is it anyways? Darry answered the door almost immediately. I hesitated to speak, a sudden feeling of guilt coming upon me. 

     “H-hi. I was wondering if I could umm, just like if I could like, spend the night?”

     Eww that was cringy awkward.

     “Dally or your parents?” he asked.

     “Dally.” It hurt saying his name. 

     “Well you know you’re always welcome here.” he said leading me in.

     Oh how many nights I spent on this couch. 

     “Goodnight Y/N.”

     “Goodnight Darry.”

     That just left me and my thoughts. Fun. I let my mind wander through the events of the day. How quickly things changed. It started off as a walk, to a bar fight, to cuddling, to fighting, and finally being alone. Which was worse? 

     Dally and I were alike in most ways. No parents. Cocky attitudes. Police records. But we also had our differences. I would only talk about my problems if I trusted you and you asked persistently, he wouldn’t talk if you held a blade to his throat. I used to be like that. You hurt someone enough that’s how they get, and trustworthy people are hard to come by. I still don’t think I’ll ever be able to figure out Dallas Winston, or why he was the way he was. And for the second time that night I felt my eyes close, as I drifted to sleep. 

     Footsteps. The creak of the door. My hand immediately went to my switchblade. I switched it open, and was met with his eyes. Dally. He put his hands up in surrender.

     “Easy there, doll.”

     “Oh, it’s you.”

     “Hey, don’t act so excited to see me.” he said sarcastically.

     “What do you want?”

     “To fix this. To fix us.” he continued

     “Well, you know, I was, I was thinking about what you said earlier. And, I’m sorry. I’m honestly sorry. I was scared, man. I was scared to let anyone get close to me. But then I did. I was scared to care too much about anyone. But I do. And then I was scared to love anyone. And when you said that, when you said that you loved me, it just became a reality. And then I was scared of loving you, because I was scared of losing you. And man, I don’t expect you to forgive me now. I don’t even expect you to forgive me ever. But I just wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just let another great thing walk out of my life like that.”

     I smiled. “You’re forgiven, stupid”

     “Now come lay with me, I’m tired”

     He smirked. I layed on his chest, mostly because there was no other way to fit on the small couch. I felt him doze off. I finally understood Dallas Winston. Underneath all the police records and jail time, was just a boy. A boy who was scared of being in love, for he’d never been loved, truly loved. And who could blame him?

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     Plop. Ouch. Was that a pillow? I opened my eyes to see Two-Bit standing across the living room. 

     “Wake up love birds.” he mocked, smirking.

     Dally glared, and threw the pillow back, hard. And when I say he threw it hard, I mean hard. That shit hit Two-Bit smack in the face, with such force it knocked his head into the wall he was leaning on. I chuckled. I could never get tired of this.

More Like This

[snowdxve]

The Entire History of You

A fanfic based on Episode 3, Season 1 of Black Mirror

Yancy x Reader

Warning: Light gore, Strong language, Alcohol, cheating

Word Count: 2681

A/N: After watching this episode, I had instant inspiration because I love a good tragedy but I did change up a few things. This was really fun to write. This was mostly for fun but now that I read over it there isn’t a lot of detail but I want to get it posted tonight, so I hope you enjoy.

~~~~

Technology had developed quickly and a little device that recorded everything you seen or heard was implanted into everyone. This little device was placed behind everyone’s ear so it wasn’t very noticeable unless you were looking closely at it. Yancy had even got one and was excited to show You everything that he had experienced. Yancy couldn’t have been more excited; he was getting out! Today was the day he was allowed to leave the prison he had called home for so long and live out his life outside the walls with You, the love of his life. He walked out of the prison with a smile plastered on his face as he struts happily toward the car. Damien had come to pick up the ex-convict and take him to his new home. Yancy got into the car and greeted Damien with a big hug before pulling the seatbelt over his chest as the drive began.

You had gathered everyone together ready to surprise Yancy on his first day home; You made sure everyone was there! You made cake and gathered in the living room, waiting patiently for Yancy to arrive at the house. Yancy soon walked into the house and looked around the room; his eyes immediately falling on You. His smile fades a bit as he sees another man talking to you. The way the man smiled at you, the way you looked at him made Yancy tense. Something just didn’t feel right. When you turned to him, you kept your smile and walked straight to Yancy, looping your arm with Yancy’s and guiding him into the living room.

“Yancy! Sweetie, it’s so great to have you home.” Yancy looks down at you and smiles as you kiss his cheek. “You remember Wilford and Magnum, right?” You ask as you walk into the living room. Yancy nods a moment as he shakes their hands before turning his attention to the man who had talked to You just moment earlier. “This is Illinois!” You gesture to the man who tips his hat to Yancy and shakes Yancy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, you should do a rewind on the tv so we can see everything.” Illinois offers.

“No, tha’s only for Y/N and I to look over later.” Yancy says calmly as Illinois walks down the hall to the dining room. “Foods ready!” Illinois calls out as Magnum and Wilford cheer and trail behind Illinois into the dining room. Yancy stops you a moment, “Has he always been part of the group?” Yancy asks with a raise of an eyebrow. “I’ll answer questions later, dear. Come on let's go eat.” You walk ahead of Yancy into the dining room and seat yourself towards the end of table. Yancy sits across from you as he puts stuff on his plate and looks across the table at you. Your eyes were trained on Illinois, a smitten smile on your face. Yancy’s heart sank, he remembered how you used to look at him that way. Had this man just come along and stolen the spark?

“This new grain thing is more my style; I can get to rewind and revisit all of my steamy moments.” Illinois chuckles as he looks down the table at You. “Easy,” You giggle out. Yancy watches the interactions quietly as he pokes the food around on his plate, watching everything. When dinner was finally over, Yancy couldn’t stomach the thought of Illinois being anywhere near them; he walks into the living room and sits down, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes to relax a moment. You followed close behind, strutting over to Yancy and sitting down on the couch. “I’m so glad to have you home, Yancy.” You coo as you reach over, intertwining your hand with Yancy’s. Yancy pulls his hand away and looks at you.

“So? Has he always been a part of the gang?” Yancy question’s curiously.

“Who?” You turn furrow your brows as you look at Yancy.

“Illinois. Like did he go around giving the girls backrubs? Is he always that, flirtatious?” Yancy clenches his jaw a bit and bites the inside of his cheek.

“My love, stop. I know you got some sort of weird vibe from him and that’s probably because, well Illinois and I had a little fling a long time ago for about a month in Hawaii. I didn’t know you back then so I don’t see why it’s such a big deal.” You pick up a wine glass and take a small sip as Yancy sits up in his chair.

“You what? You slept wit him? Well isn't that just amazing!” Yancy shakes his head and lets out a frustrated growl.

“Why does it matter? It was years ago and you didn’t even know me!”

“And I thought that this Mr.Hawaii guy was supposed to be a brilliant man-”

“Why are you so obsessed? It doesn’t matter Yancy, you got this all fucked up!” You cut off Yancy as you pick up your wine glass and make your way to the stairs.

“Oh, I’s fucked up? Well that’s brilliant because sometimes you're a bitch!” Yancy grumbles out. You froze and turned to Yancy with a sad look on your face. “Y/N, I didn’t mean that-” An image of Yancy appeared on the tv screen repeating what You had just heard him say. ‘You’re a bitch.’ played over and over on the tv screen as you made your way up the stairs.

“I said sometimes! You can’t just cut that out, Y/N!” Yancy calls after you.

Moment later, Yancy walks up the stairs into the bedroom with his head down. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I just get jealous; I don’t want to lose you. You’re all I got outside of the prison walls.” Yancy sits on the edge of the bed as You cup his cheeks and guide him into a gentle kiss. “It’s okay, Yancy. I understand.” You whisper as you holds him close. Yancy nods slowly before crawling into bed next to you; he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you against him. You lean into him and close your eyes as you slowly drift asleep. Yancy, however, couldn’t sleep. After everything that had happened that day he found it harder and harder to sleep, so once he was sure that you were asleep; he crept out of bed down to the living room not before pulling a bottle of Jack Daniels out of the fridge. Yancy rewinds his memories on the television screen.

He focused on you and the way you acted. The way you had your attention glued to Illinois. How you laughed at everything he said as if he was some sort of comedian. Yancy fills the glass and take a drink, he replayed and watched the few scenes over and over through the night. When morning rolled around, Yancy was finishing the bottle and a brilliant thought popped into his head. He should go pay a visit to Illinois. Yancy stands and walks out of the house quickly and quietly, starting up the car a warning sign appeared in front of Yancy. “Grain advise you not to drive in these circumstances.” The chip inside his head speaks. Yancy rolls his eyes and starts up the car, “yeah, thanks for that.” He slurs out before backing out of the driveway.

It didn’t take Yancy long to get to Illinois and when he did Illinois walked outside in a robe and boxers. “What do you want convict?” Illinois crosses his arms as Yancy gets out of the car and hugs him.

“Nothing, I just want to come over and say hi!” Yancy says brightly as he stumbles into Illinois house, walking down a long hall way until he reaches the living room, he grabs a bottle of vodka off the table pullng the top off with a loud pop following. He presses the rim to his lips and takes a long drink as he falls back onto the plush cotton couch. “Yancy, you can’t be here. What’s going on? Are you and Y/N bumping heads?” Illinois asks as he puts his hand on his hips. Yancy looks up at Illinois and tilts his head as he tips the bottle back once more.

“No! Y/n and I are fine. I have one question, is this where you rewind your hot and steamy time? Is this where you rewind the hot steamy times with my girl?!” Yancy growls out. Illinois lets out a heavy sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I think you should go.” Illinois walks to Yancy, grabbing his arm but Illinois didn’t get very far before Yancy smacks the bottle against Illinois head. Illinois covers his face and groans in pain before wrapping his rough hands tightly around Yancy’s throat. Yancy, in a struggle to breathe, grabs Illinois by his hair and yanks him back. Illinois and Yancy rolled from the couch the to ground with Yancy, hovering over top of Illinois with his hands around his throat. “I want you to delete them! Every memory you have of Y/N I want you to delete them!” Illinois eyes became a pale white before Yancy grabs the empty vodka bottle and smashes it on the hard-wooden floor, sending bits of glass all over.

“Not on your eyes! On the screen now! If you don’t, I swear I will carve out your throat and I will break all of your fingers! I swear!” Yancy yells as he holds the sharp end of the broken bottle to Illinois throat. He watches the images of each memory show up on the screen. His eyes widen a moment as he took notice of one the timelines. ‘1 month ago’. Yancy’s heart sank as watches all memories being deleted from the screen; First there was sadness then there was boiling anger, Yancy gripped the glass piece a little tighter before plunging the piece of glass deep into Illinois shoulder. Yancy stands and sends his foot into Illinois stomach, causing him to double over in pain as he clutches his shoulder. Illinois laid there crying as Yancy storms out of the house to his car.

In that moment, Yancy was alone what the hell was he going to do now. He put all his trust and hope into You and you had blandly lied and cheated on him. Yancy was stunned; the one person he had changed everything for had done him wrong. Yancy bites his lip as his vision clouded, tears spilled over his eyelids. Hot tears raced down his cheeks as he drove home quickly, regretting that he had ever trusted you.

Yancy walks up the stairs slowly, listening to every step creak quietly under his feet as he walks towards the bedroom; he leans against the doorway and sniffles a bit as he brushes away his tears. “Why did youse lie to me?” Yancy takes a few steps into the room as you sit up from the bed. “What? Yancy, where have you been?” You sit up in the bed concern written all over your face. “You were with him, Y/N. Youse was with him while I sat in tha prison cell and rotted!” Yancy yells. You crawl to the edge of the bed and look up at Yancy, “what are you going on about? I was never with Illinois!” You protest.

Yancy points his rewinder to the tv and his encounter with Illinois plays on the screen. Your eyes widen as you look from the screen to Yancy, “what in the hell have you done?” You whispered in horror. Yancy takes a deep breath as scrolls in on the image. There you were sitting in your bed with the tan colored blanket pulled over your chest, a small smile of satisfaction plastered on your face with the caption 1 month pasted under the picture. “Youse get suspicious and youse thinks youse crazy sometimes but when youse not youse can finally get rid of the shit. It’s like having a rotten tooths really, and when youse get tired of it. You dig out all the shit.” Yancy grumbles out, peering over his shoulder at you.

“Yancy, it was a mistake. It was after that argument we had, you walked away and you didn’t call or even accept my visitations! I went out for a drink with him and we got talking. It shouldn’t have happened.” You sniffled out. Yancy stands up and walks to you, “I wanna see it.” He sniffles out.

“What?” You ask in shock as you look up at the man, his messy raven hair was in all different directions and his face was cherry red from crying. “Youse heard me, I want to sees it!” Yancy says firmly. “I deleted it! I just wanted to forget it.” You sniffled out. Yancy looks down at you and shakes his head, “So it’s just a blank spot on youse timeline? I wanna see it.” Yancy demands. You nod helplessly as you turn and crawl across the bed to the night stand, you grab your small silver remote and freeze as you flick back through memories as quick as you can, hoping to find it and delete it before Yancy would notice.

Yancy crawls over you and grabs the remote harshly from your hand, “Youse not going to delete it now! Stop lying to me, Y/N!” Yancy yells as he looks at the remote. ”Show me, Y/N. I want to see it.” Yancy whimpers out as he stands at the edge of the bed, holding the small remote flat out In his hand. “Show me,” You places your hands on Yancy’s chest and shake your head helplessly. “No, please, Yancy. I love you. Why?” You whimper out as tears stream down your face. Yancy grabs the sides of your head, “Just show me!!” He yells as he pushes you down on the bed hard.

You curl up into a ball, crying as Yancy looms over you. “Look what you’ve done to me!! This isn’t me!! Where do I go now?! How could you do this to me?! To US?! After everything we’ve been through?!” Yancy yells as he tosses the remote on the bed and sits back down in the chair with his hands in his hands. “Play it, please.” Yancy sniffles. You obeyed this time, sitting up shakily and playing the memory on the tv screen while you buried your head into the blankets and sobbed.

Yancy looks away from the screen as his heart breaks a little more. He had so much hope, so much joy to finally have something outside of those prison walls and now it had been mercilessly snatched away from him. Yancy stands and walks out of the room with you tagging behind him quickly. Just as Yancy reached the door, you wrapped your arms around him tightly. You press your head against his back as you cry. “Please, Yancy, don’t go! I love you, please. Please, please.” Yancy had his hand around the doorknob as his head hangs. You knew just how to tug at his heart strings. It reminded him of the first time you had come for a visitation; the way you cried when he was taken away.

Yancy hated seeing you upset; it was his biggest fear. He hated to think of you being alone and on your own. He was weak to you. Yancy turns in your holds and draws you against his chest, closing his eyes as he rest his head on yours. He knew far too well that he wouldn’t give up on you after all he had just gotten out. Things could be repaired, after all he had changed his ways for you. He had fixed himself up mostly, maybe all you needed was someone to lean on and he was there now for you to lean on. Yancy holds you tightly, never wanting to let you go.

Yancy’s dream was chatter when a loud knock sounded from the door. “Yancy! Come out with your hands up!”