#it happened quite suddenly this morning that i felt like everybody's hating me

[mitamicah]

I should be packing for Finland but it is really hard deciding what to wear in a week when you feel horrible in everything

[stydiaandthejeep]

Eleven steps out of the cabin at night, unable to sleep after everything that happened. Mike comes to check on her and they finally, finally get a moment alone.

A mileven one shot that follows the events of the season finale

Eleven was still buzzing with the adrenaline of the day. After staying up until midnight, crowding in with everybody on the floor of the small cabin, Joyce had made the executive decision of sending all the teenagers to sleep, with the promise that they would get back to coming up with a plan first thing in the morning.

Hopper fell asleep on the blankets that Joyce had laid on the floor for him, and was now snoring loudly,just like El remembered from their days there. She watched him silently for a few moments, trying to convince herself that he was right there, safe and sound. The rest of the party had gone home to reassure their parents and get some rest, but she couldn't fall asleep, no matter how hard she tried. It was all too fresh, too present in her mind: Max lying down in a hospital bed unresponsive, the deep despair she had felt confronting Vecna, seeing Papa bleed out in the desert.

She stepped out in the cold night air, trying to seek comfort from the familiar sounds and smells. One of Hopper's old hoddies was wrapped around her, and she had made the porch light turn on with a faint smile, relishing the return of her powers. Among everything that happened, she hadn't had a moment alone with Mike. They had been quiet the whole ride over, the shock of the battle leaving her speechless. Mike had given her space and only adressed her to ask of she was hungry or tired, and although unable to speak, she had tried to convey with her eyes how much what he had said meant to her. All she could read in his eyes was sickening worry, for her and his friends,his family.

Just then she heard the sound of steps coming from the trail, and a faint voice calling out. 'El? Is that you?'

She could make out Mike's silhouette even before he stepped into the light before her. She smiled, not even questioning why he wasn't home, or how worried his mom would be if she found out.

He looked pale and worried, and his voice was raspier than usual. ' I'm sorry if you still needed your space, I just.. I couldn't sleep, and I wanted to check and make sure you were okay.'

There was a nervous energy in the lines of his body, and El knew he had wanted to see her alone just as much as she did. When she spoke up her voice was quieter than usual, almost foreign to her. She felt in control of her powers, yet acting like a normal human was an effort. ' No space. Come sit with me.'

Mike breathed out a sigh of relief and sat down on the step, a respectable distance between them. She had raised her eyebrows in confusion and scooted over until they were pressed next to each other in the chilly air. Mike let out a small chuckle and then shyly wrapped his left arm around her waist, the way he did sometimes when they were hanging out in the mall food court. Eleven felt her whole body relax at the contact - tears welled up in her eyes, this time not for Max or for her dad. It had just hit her, how badly she had missed Mike.

'Missed.You.'

She hated how her power draining had made her speech regress to what it used to be before she met the party. Mike didn't question it, instead nodding and pulling her even closer.

' I missed you too. Well, I guess my speech back at the pizza shop made that quite obvious.' Even in the dim light, the girl could see how Mike's cheeks has turned a lovely shade of pink. Continuing to avoid eye contact, Mike grabbed her other hand and interlocked it with his. ' In case it wasn't obvious how in love I am with you, now I won't ever hear the end of it from the other guys.'

Eleven laughed, letting her heart swell with joy for just a few seconds, taking it in that someone loved her for who she was. She suddenly remembered how short her hair was now and what she was wearing, and she ran her fingers through it, as if that would make it magically grow back. Mike noticed the gesture and turned slightly to look at her.

' Don't worry about that, El. It will grow back. And you're still pretty regardless of it. Always."

Their voices had grown to whispers, and Eleven leaned her forehead into his shoulder as a thank you. Mike cleared his throat and took advantage of her breaking eye contact.

' I thought you weren't waking up, El. For a few, terrifying moments, my heart stopped in place and you weren't opening your eyes or breathing or twitching anymore. There was nothing but silence and the sound of Will crying and all I could think was that I had really lost you this time. You weren't taken away from me, or moving to another state. For a moment in time you were simply gone and I thought I was going to lose my mind.'

Eleven looked up, and she was met by Mike's dark eyes filled with tears. She hated seeing him cry. All she wanted was for them to be a normal teenage couple, sneaking kisses in the movie theater. She was tired of everything ripping them from one another, of having to fight for every single moment of happiness. She wiped his cheeks with the sleeve of her hoodie and he tried to smile, trying not to worry her. She remembered how his words had pulled her back from One. How she hadn't realised that in every other way that counted, Mike had been saying he loved her ever since that day in the woods.

' I'm here. Not going anywhere. And..'

She mustered up all her energy into her word, trying to sound coherent.

' I could never not want you. I'm sorry if I made you get those feelings.'

The energy was worth the grin that had spread on his face, a tinge of relief in it. Softly, he brought up his hand to gently cup her jaw. She let herself imagine they really were just a couple of teenagers, sneaking out at night to get a moment alone. An intense feeling rushed through her whenever Mike looked at her like he did then, with darkened eyes and complete focus ( Max once told her those were called 'butterflies').

'Can I kiss you, El?'

The next moment there was a loud snore that broke through the silence from the cabin, which made Eleven giggle and made Mike look completely terrified. She winked at him playfully and the next moment the porch light went out,along with any other lights around,leaving them in complete darkness. Even so, El could see how completely amazed Mike looked, laughing silently in disbelief.

She felt his lips gently pressing on hers, so she brought up her hands to tangle themselves in Mike's hair. They were soft at first, but Eleven could feel their shared desperation to get closer pour into their kiss, and she tried her best to convey all her feelings within it. Time bent and snapped into place, and all she could feel and focus for a few wonderful moments was Mike, his lips moving against hers,his scent, the feel of his hand on her jaw. She tugged at his hair while carried away and she felt him groan into her mouth, and so she pulled back immediately.

' Sorry. I hurt you?' Her question was genuine and applogetic, but she could sense Mike smiling, amused.

'No,no. That wasn't a bad, um, sound.'

She was pretty sure this was somehow related to some really awkward talks she had with Nancy a while ago, yet she wanted to make sure she hadn't hurt Mike.

' Not.. bad?'

She turned her head slightly and turned on the porch light again, this time dimmer, eager to see his face. She thought she had gotten pretty good at kissing,but maybe she was wrong

Instead , she found Mike looking flustered again, which made her smile.

' No, I mean, yes usually those kind of sounds associated with hair pulling means bad, but. In contexts like making out they're usually a positive sign that the other persob is enjoying it and um. I'm just gonna shut up now."

Eleven threw her head back laughing like a little kid, having missed how Mike blushed and rambled whenever he got embarrassed. She used to secretly ask certain things on purpose, just because she thought he looked unbelievably cute when he got like that.

' Well, Im glad you find my awkwardness amusing.' He commented under his breath, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

' I should probably go, my mom will get worried. See you tomorrow?'

Eleven got up and walked with him a few steps to his bike. 'Yes, tomorrow.' was all she could reply, choosing instead to wrap her hands around Mike's torso, noting how much taller he was than her. She gathered her in his arms and peppered her face with kisses before reluctantly letting go. 'Bye, El.'

Eleven let out a big sigh after she watched him pedal away. She refused to let her mind wander and instead laid down on her bed, falling asleep with nothing else in her head except the image of the two of them kissing in the complete darkness of the night.

[harry-writings]

The Happy Years

- The one where Y/n is unhappy in her engagement and finds an escape with her former lover

Part 1

Masterlist

(A/N) IM SO EARLY IM SORRY I KNOW I SAID 9PM BUT IM DONE SO MUCH SOONER THAN EXPECTED OKAY IM SORRY LOVE YALL <3333

-

Three years later.

The heaviest of thunderstorms hit the city of London by early morning, the loss of the sun and the gloom of the day leaving Harry bedridden for the first time in weeks.

He always tried his best to avoid days like this — trapped within his home, caged in memories that make every step he takes heavier than the last, wishing for just the smallest taste of salvation — because it’s when he’s left alone between these walls that the darkest parts of him come out, ravaging, feeding off of what’s left of him.

Rain reminds him of the day Y/n left. Thunder reminds him of Malibu. Malibu reminds him of all the things he ever used to do with her — on the bed, on the couch, in the hallways.

There’s no escape from what he’s done.

But when the time hits two in the afternoon and Harry still hasn’t gotten up from under his blankets, he decides that doing even the bare minimum with his day would be some sort of accomplishment.

He decided to get the mail.

And what a terrible decision that was, Harry thinks, as he sees an envelope addressed to him in unfamiliar handwriting by an unfamiliar name. Something about it upsets his stomach and throws him off key, knowing in his heart that he shouldn’t open it, but it’s heavy in his hands and he can’t ignore the temptation of it all.

Another terrible decision he’s made.

Please join us for the wedding of Alfie Lexington & Y/n Y/l/n.

Saturday, September 25, 2021 at 3:00 PM.

Dartmouth House. Mayfair, London.

The downpour feels like a drizzle compared to the cries Harry lets out as he reads the wedding invitation, his worst nightmare playing out right before his very eyes and if he wasn’t already so fucked up, he’d try his best to ignore it.

Y/n played her move. She wants him to strike back. She wants to win and watch him lose more than he already has. That’s all she has left of him.

His lips tremble as he sniffles, the invitation shaking between his palms as he lets reality sink in.

Y/n is getting married.

Y/n is happy.

Y/n is going to spend the rest of her life with somebody other than him — somebody that was once his friend.

It's unfathomable to him. The connection him and Y/n shared was unlike any other. They were drawn to each other instantaneously, their feelings of infatuation never once dying down because it was simply incapable of doing so.

They put each other first. They made each other better people, helped each other grow through all the droughts and winter days, and continuously found ways to become closer to one another. They were so comfortable and confident in their company, and so every day they spent together within those four years had never been anything less than pure happiness.

They were meant to be. He didn’t see it then, but he sees it now, and now that’s all he sees because everything he sees is her. 

To know that it’s no longer the same for her kills him from the inside out, because now she really doesn’t belong to him.

He lets out a sound that can only resemble what would be a whine and a groan made together, sobbing as he flips the invitation around, only to find another saved date he just doesn’t have the heart to see — an engagement party for all the invited to join.

He’s so overwhelmed with devastation that his brain becomes fogged, his body disassociating from itself as he rips the invitation apart, growling and screaming and wailing as he just keeps ripping it and ripping it and ripping it.

He’s destroying it in the same way it destroyed him until he gives up, slamming his fists down upon the counter, losing control of himself beneath all his pain and regrets. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to happen. This isn’t what was supposed to come from this life.

He’s barely surviving as it is.

And he just needs to see her again.

But he doesn’t know how he’d react once he does. Whether he’d want to kiss her, to hate her, to love her all over again, he doesn’t know. His entire world is collapsing and he doesn’t know how to save it from falling apart. He can’t take any more risks when it comes to her.

But what is love without fear and danger? What would it say about him if he were to walk away from this now instead of trying just once more with her?

So with a heavy heart and a sobbing chest, he doesn’t take his chances.

And Y/n simply just couldn’t believe the sight in front of her.

Harry is standing at her doorstep, soaked head to toe, shaking in his bones. His lips are a light shade of blue and his eyes an alarming shade of red, somehow wetter than the rest of him. And as the thunder rumbles beneath her feet and nearly sends her to her knees, it goes to show her that he really is here, standing at her doorstep, and it’s not just a dream.

And she must have been struck by the shock of his presence because her tongue is suddenly tied, her throat dry, her lips fallen open yet forgetting how to breathe.

She just looks at him, soaking him all in, trying to understand what exactly led him back to the biggest mistake of his life.

“Harry?”

“So that was your way of getting back at me?! After three fucking years?!”

Her mouth falls open in disbelief, her eyebrows furrowing in defense. How he could possibly accuse her of something she didn’t even do — considering she hadn’t made any attempts to reach out to him since the moment she left Malibu — makes her feel even more betrayed than before.

He should know her better than this. He should know her from the inside out at this point, but she supposed three years really is a long time, because she’s never seen this side of Harry before. He seems so different to her now.

“Don’t you dare come to my home and try to make an ass out of me! Since when have I ever been the kind of person to get back at somebody?!”

Harry stutters for a moment, his anger and jealousy and hurt blinding him from the truth that Y/n never goes out of her way to get even. Her heart is too big, but he can’t shake this feeling that the person who sent him the invitation was out to do him harm.

And nobody had more of a reason to hurt him than Y/n.

“So the wedding invitation, then? You had nothing to do with that?”

He speaks it condescending, as if he didn’t believe a word she said, but that’s not what it comes down to. It comes down to the fact that she has moved on and found herself somebody so much better than him, and he has no one.

She shakes her head as if to gather her thoughts, confused about how he even found out about the wedding considering Harry quit the firm just hours after he left Malibu, leaving him with no contact to anybody that had any string tied back to her.

“Of course I had something to do with the wedding invitations! I’m the one getting married!”

She pauses then, her cold demeanor dropping into something Harry wants to say resembles a hint of relief, but it’s much more cross than that, much more serious, and he doesn’t expect what’s coming next.

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Me getting married?” She speaks it through a small, bitter laugh. “I should have known the only way you’d fight for me was by being with somebody else. You never could stand being second to me, as ironic as that is.”

“I could give two shits about you getting married.” He lies through clenched teeth, his stomach sick at the mere thought of it. “But I do have an issue with you inviting me to your wedding after walking out on me.”

Her head snaps back up to him.

“Wait, Harry, what are you talking about?” She frowns, trying to make sense of it. “I didn’t invite you to the wedding.”

Why would she?

They are no longer friends, no longer much of anything, so for her to take time out of her day to sabotage anything but herself wouldn’t feel right to her. Besides, it was her decision to never speak to Harry again, she wouldn’t ever take her word back.

Harry frowns then, too, because she isn’t faking her emotions. She’d always been terrible at doing so, and the way her eyes scream and beg for answers can’t go ignored. He, again, feels like the absolute worst person in the world.

“Then who did?” He whispers.

There’s only one possible answer.

-

Seven months ago.

Alfie insisted that he and Y/n had a New Year’s Eve party. They’d never had one before, as Y/n much preferred staying in with a bottle of champagne and celebrating with a lobster dinner and late night reruns of The Honeymooners.

But Alfie was persistent. Very persistent. Too persistent. So persistent she had no choice but to give in, and she just didn’t understand why.

She didn’t understand it as days passed and all Alfie talked about was the stupid party. She didn’t understand it when he rented out one of the most expensive venues. She didn’t understand it when he laid awake the entire night before, too anxious to fall asleep. She didn’t understand it when he asked her to wear his favorite dress.

She wished that she did the moment it happened.

The clock was ticking.

“Five!”

Alfie reached for Y/n’s hand.

“Four!”

Y/n noticed something shift in the air.

“Three!”

Alfie reached his other hand into his pocket.

“Two!”

Y/n knew what was coming.

“One!”

Alfie dropped to one knee.

“Happy new year!”

It was every girl’s dream — the fireworks, the balcony, the view, the prince charming that would whisk her away to spend the rest of eternity together — yet it couldn’t have felt any more like a nightmare.

It wasn’t what she wanted. Not then, not ever before, not once during the span of their relationship, and time seemed to have stopped moving forward.

There she was, in the center of the universe as everybody stopped and stared, gasping and gushing at the sight of a man on his knees for a woman. An act of vulnerability, of love, of submission, yet it didn’t feel like any of those things.

It all felt so wrong.

She began to cry.

To everyone else, it seemed as though she was crying from happiness. Her devoted boyfriend of two years finally asked for her hand in marriage, to be the mother of his children, to spend the rest of their lives tied together by a vow, unable to be broken. So it was no surprise when everybody let out an awe of endearment, nobody (not even Alfie) knowing her well enough to distinguish the difference between her happiest and saddest cries.

Harry would have known.

And that was all it seemed to come back to in that very moment in time.

Harry.

What she would have given to feel his hands on her waist, blocking her body from view with his, taking her away from all the unwanted eyes on her fragile body. He would have done it in a heartbeat because he always did — he always found a way to help her escape her horrifying realities, even the sweetest of ones.

What she would have given for it to be him kneeling in front of her… this all would have been so different.

Her lover of two years was promising her a future, yet all she could think about was somebody stuck in her past, yet so heavily prevalent in her present.

But she couldn’t say no. How could she when everybody expected the answer he was looking for, ready to toast to the bride and groom? How could she when phones captured the beginning of the rest of their lives, ready to share for all to see?

But she couldn’t say yes, either.

She settled for a nod of her head.

The crowd cheered, some clapping, others clinking their glasses, lovers kissing. She only caught a glimpse of those celebratory moments before everything around her drowned in her tears, voices of congratulations so distant beneath her heavy, hyperventilated breaths.

Alfie embraced her, then, and she felt his laughs of euphoria rumbling in his chest as hers met his, and she couldn’t even pretend.

She rested her chin on his shoulder, her expression void of everything that she should have been feeling. And her eyes went blank as they caught a reflection of her through the balcony windows — the last time she ever saw herself for what she truly was.

-

That same day.

Y/n was a mess waiting for Alfie to get home.

Seeing Harry again filled her with so many different emotions, she didn’t know which one to start with. She wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to destroy everything and everybody that dared get in her way, she wanted to disappear. Yet she had done none of it. All she could manage to do was pace around her bedroom, biting at her nails and getting lost in her scrambled thoughts, her mind and body moving at a million miles an hour, unable to be tamed.

This is precisely the reason Y/n never wanted to see him again.

He does things to her, he always has. She hardly has any control over herself whenever it comes to him and she fucking hates it. No matter how sad, how mad, how hurt or how upset, there was something about his presence that made her see past all of that. It saddens her how much she used to love it.

But her moods swing at her relentlessly, the sadness turning to anger because yes, she is angry. She’s angry that he still has this much of a hold on her, especially after everything he’s done, and she’s even more angry that he hasn’t yet apologized for it.

Because it was all getting better. The constant wondering about what he’s doing or who he’s with and the continuous string of thought always leading back to him was all finally falling into its place. She was finally finding her place.

And then her fiancè did this.

When she hears the bedroom door open, she hardly gives Alfie any time before she starts a fight, wishing nothing more than to take it all out on him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Y/n fumes, everything tainted red with anger as she looks into his eyes and feels nothing but hurt and betrayal. “Inviting Harry to our wedding behind my back?! Do you not remember what he did to me?! Do you not realize what you just did?!”

He frowns, not sarcastic or menacing, but he genuinely seems upset that she’d ever even ask him such a question.

“Y/n…” Alfie sighs, and she suddenly hates the way he’s always managed to remain calm in the most heated of arguments. She wants to start a war with it, to go for the kill, to make him crawl and beg and bleed for her forgiveness. “Of course I remember what he did to you, which is exactly why I did it.”

Her hands turn to fists.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“I wanted to hurt him for hurting you! God damn it, Y/n… after finding out what he did to you all I could think about was ripping him to pieces and that urge never left me, especially after we got together.”

He slumps himself down at the foot of the bed, loosening the tie around his neck, almost too aggressively. And if she wasn’t so out of her mind enraged, she would try her hardest to understand his side.

But there is no excuse for this. There’s no excuse for any of it.

“So now you use our marriage as a way to get back at him?!”

Y/n may not love Alfie the right way, but she had never stooped so low to treat her marriage like a weapon, ready to strike at any moment in time. It wasn’t something she used to inflict pain onto anybody else but herself, no matter how hard it had gotten.

And though she once believed their engagement meant more to him than it ever meant to her, she can’t help but feel as if that’s just another lie she’d been forced to live with.

He went behind her back deliberately to hurt somebody even she never intended on hurting. He knew what was to come of this and yet here he is, letting it all happen for satisfaction’s sake.

It feels like all she will ever be is used.

“Is that what this is to you?! A point on your scoreboard?! A big ‘fuck you, i won!’?”

“Isn’t that what this is for you?”

“Don’t you dare turn this into my problem.” She spits through clenched teeth, punching at the dresser beside her with the side of her fist, face burning with fury. “I’m not the one sending him our wedding invitations!”

“And I’m not the one staying up past midnight scrolling through pictures of him on my phone!”

Her mouth shuts then, her hard and pressed features softening at the unexpected turn of the conversation.

She had been looking at pictures of Harry almost every night since Malibu, she just never expected to get caught. She could physically feel Alfie fall asleep against her, so she always waited thirty minutes before she took her phone out, looking back at everything that once was.

It was the only thing she ever truly wanted.

It’s what she kept going back to — a habit that came as naturally as telling her best friend about her day, about her perspectives on the world, about the lack of guidance in her life — like a phone call at the end of the day as a way to unwind.

She had make believe conversations with him as she scrolled endlessly through her favorite photo album, the thickness of his accent engrained in her mind as she thought of everything he’d say to her if he were still around. And if that wasn’t enough, she’d live vicariously through the memories they made together and replay those moments all night, until they lulled her to sleep.

“I told you from day one that —”

“That you’re never going to let him go, I know. I know that he was the love of your life at one point but this is just pathetic now, Y/n. Absolutely nothing short of pathetic.” She frowns, his choice of words making her heart sink because he knows exactly how to do it. And he sighs, rubbing his hands up and down his face as if he were in agony. “I didn’t know this was the kind of shit I was signing up for.”

Her eyes brim with tears but don’t offer anything more, only upset that he couldn’t find a way to understand her when she’s trying so hard. But he never has and he never will — not in the way she needs him to and not in the way that could ever make this work.

“I’m not sorry for what I did.” She confesses sadly, her bottom lip between her teeth and fingers picking the skin around her nails as she tries, yet again, to make him see. “He was my best friend before he was anything else to me. There was a time in my life where he was all I had.”

And though her heart is still with Harry in every aspect of every way, it’s true. He was her best friend and that’s what she misses the most. There was so much to him that meant so much to her and none of it could ever be replaced, not even by Alfie.

“You know I love you but you also know I'm not the same woman you fell for in Malibu. I’m my worst self when I don't have him around and your favorite parts of me don’t exist without him. Don’t pretend like you don’t see that.”

His hands twitch against his lap, his shoulders slumping because it’s true. The most lively and brightest parts of herself had died the first step she’d taken away from him that night. Sure, she’s still the most resilient and beautiful woman Alfie had ever known, but she’s never been the same since then.

She’s still in love with him and there’s nothing for him to do about it. He didn’t see it until he saw the way she sulked over Harry that night, all those years later, with a diamond ring on her finger that just seemed to weigh her down even more.

None of this means anything to her.

“It’s been three years, Y/n. Just find yourself a new best friend and move the fuck on already. I’m getting sick and tired of this.”

What he doesn’t understand is that she is, too.

-

Two weeks later.

Y/n shouldn’t be this alone at her own engagement party, but it’s the impossible things that always manage to find their way to her.

The party consisted mostly of Alfie’s friends, considering Y/n is much more of an introvert than he is and the small number of friends she does have seemed to have disappeared within the sea of unfamiliar faces. She felt lost for a moment, but when she finally found her fiancè, he had been too invested in his own friends to spare her a single one of his glances, and it soon became disheartening to wait for him to acknowledge her when the thought of her never once crossed his mind.

So she ends up on the steps of their back porch, sipping on a glass of champagne, overlooking the garden, breathing in the silence.

She closes her eyes and succumbs herself to the summer breeze, wondering what she has to do to find a single glimmer of happiness. Her life is just so sad, a labyrinth of betrayal and hurt and heartbreak she can’t ever escape.

Darkness is all she sees when she thinks about her future. There is nothing for her to look forward to. Every day will come and go the same way it has been — unwanted, dreaded, wasted, another failed attempt of contentment. It all seems so hopeless to her now.

The champagne doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to a lonely Y/n, and it isn’t nearly enough to curb her mood, either as she huffs at her empty glass, wishing she had taken another.

She sets it down next to her, placing both her elbows on her knees, getting lost in her world of sorrow, long forgotten by her lover.

Harry is the first one to find her.

He had parked his car across the street from her shared home with Alfie, and even from his distance he knew Y/n wouldn’t be inside. He knows her too well to know she wouldn’t find her place in crowded rooms where the attention is all on her, even if it was all in the comfort of her own home.

And the fact that Alfie didn’t know her senses of belonging well enough to accommodate them made him seeth. She is an independent, a lone wolf, a woman who moves solely in her own way and anybody who’s ever loved her knows that above all else.

He doesn’t care for her.

And he doesn’t need to go looking for her because he can feel her, as if the universe somehow bent its laws of gravity and pushed him straight to her back porch steps, where he finds her all alone.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels a hand fall softly on her shoulder, but immediately sinks into comfort when she sees that it’s Harry moving to sit beside her, his hand refusing to pull away.

Finally, she has a friend.

“Hey.” She says softly, one of the corners of her lips turning slightly upward at his unexpected visit. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

He smiles briefly at her before he overlooks the garden, his fingers squeezing at her shoulder before resting his palms over his lap. And there’s something about being next to her again that makes everything around him fall back into place. This is where he’s meant to be.

“Honestly, neither did I, all things considered.” They both let out a chuckle, the atmosphere between them so horrifically sad yet so incredibly right. “But I just really felt like I had to be here for you tonight.”

Despite the years that had passed and everything that drove them apart, Y/n remains who he loves most in this world. His connection to her never died, so the sudden gusts of off and disturbing feelings Harry used to get whenever Y/n was troubled had never left him. He felt it all just as strongly — her anxieties, her fears, her tears and everything in between. And he’s glad that part of them never died because the look in her eye tells him everything he needs to know.

She’s absolutely miserable.

She sighs, the corners of her lips falling as she stares at her engagement ring, her thumb and pinky twisting it around her ring finger, itchy and heavy no matter which way it's worn.

“Me and Alfie aren’t doing so well.”

She didn’t have to say it because he can already see how treacherous they are together, but that doesn’t make it any easier for him to hear.

He lost his right to be selfish with her in Malibu, and though he does gain a sense of happiness knowing he may have a chance with her again, it’s significantly outweighed by her sadness. Nothing had ever pained him more than that.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She shakes her head, her fingers reaching up to tuck fallen pieces of hair behind her ear.

“Don’t be. I don’t really know why he decided to do this, anyways.”

Harry’s lips fall.

“Marry you?”

Y/n’s leg begins to shake, her greatest and most absentminded nervous habit. And Harry had always been quick to place his hand over her thigh and rub at the surface, meeting her eye halfway and taking a deep breath in, to which she would always follow. He hesitates to do so tonight, but settles for it anyway.

She looks appreciative beneath it all.

She’d forgotten about Harry’s subtle favors over the past three years, so to feel it all again when she has been so low and neglected feels like a blessing to her. It feels like somebody finally cares for her, and that’s all she had been wanting all along.

Harry, she feels, is the only one who ever truly has.

“We just never talked about it. It was this big, ginormous, unavoidable, life changing question thrown at me with no warning at all.” Her forehead falls to her palms, as if humiliated by the memory. “In front of everybody.”

Harry’s heart crumbles from within him because nothing Alfie has given her has been anything she’s wanted, and that’s not what she deserves.

He remembers it so distinctively now — the way she poured her heart out to him just a few months before Malibu. It was the third Valentine’s Day they’d spent together and Y/n got so drunk, she spent nearly the entire night venting to him about everything she’d feared when it came to her future relationships.

With her head on his shoulder and her leg slung over his hips, Y/n’s thoughts were so destructive, she couldn’t bear to entertain them any longer, so she decided to let it all out.

“And what if my boyfriend proposes to me in a room full of people? I’d drown in sensory overload. And what if I want to say no? Or maybe? Or yes, just not right now? With all those people looking at me? I think I would pass away.”

Harry looked down at her in subtle curiosity, his fingers playing with her hair in the way they always liked. She was the only thing in his sight that wasn’t spinning out of his control.

“So how do you want to be proposed to?”

She hummed, as if contemplating her answer. But she knew. She already knew.

“In bed, probably. It’s so intimate and private there. So non-traditional. You’re the most done down at your first hour and something about someone wanting you at your worst, forever, is so poetic.”

She looked up at him with doe eyes merely seconds after.

“Will you make sure he does that for me, please? Promise me you’ll try.”

He smiled the best he could at her, pressing his lips down to her forehead. They lingered there for a moment, and Y/n’s breath was taken away.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

What makes the memory even worse was how much he really did love her and how blinded he was to it. He kissed her. He held her. He played with her hair. He slept beside her that night. He kissed her again goodnight. He brought her breakfast in bed the next morning. He did it all over again.

It couldn’t have been any more obvious.

But there’s something about the way she hasn’t expressed any of those concerns with Alfie that doesn’t sit right with him. It just doesn’t make any sense to him.

“Been with him for how long now, two years? And you really didn’t expect him to propose to you? Have you met you?”

She sulks herself deeper into her knees.

“I don’t know. I guess — I guess I just never really thought about it.”

Never thought about it?

“But you’ve always wanted to get married.” He says it more like a question than a statement, genuine concern and confusion in his tone of voice as his eyebrows furrow, trying to comprehend it.

She looks up at him with a void, empty expression.

“Yeah, but never to him.”

Her eyes linger on Harry’s for just a beat longer — just long enough to catch a glimpse of the way his lips fall and the way his face drains of color — before she blinks away from him, turning her gaze back toward the garden. The flowers have never looked so lifeless.

“Y/n… if I had known how you felt, I —”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Y/n shakes her head, looking back down at her trembling hands, tears now burning in her eyes as the sudden sadness of the conversation starts to weigh down on her. “You had four years to feel the same for me and you never did. My feelings would have done nothing to yours.”

“And I never did?” Harry asks incredulously, his voice low and faltered behind the heaviness of her words. “Is that really what you’ve been living with the past three years?”

Loose tears begin to fall down her cheeks because yes, she has been living with his unrequited love for six years and no, it’s never gotten any easier. It’s pathetic and ridiculous and the most unexplainable form of grief she’d ever carried, but it’s the most devastating kind. “How could I think any differently?”

“Because it was real, Y/n. Fuck.” He lets out a strangled, dry chuckle upon his words as he runs his shaking fingers through his hair. He’s nervous, absolutely terrified because if he fails to show her how deeply he feels for her now, he may never get the chance to again, and losing her is no longer an option for him. Not when she’s so close. “Because you know me better than anybody else and you know I wasn’t faking it with you. How could I have been? You would have seen right through me and you know it. You always do.”

Perhaps the love blinded her. Perhaps her heart was so invested it deceived her to see only the things she wanted as a subconscious form of self-preservation. It’s not an impossible possibility, and it’s certainly one she believed in throughout all this time, but a part of her can’t help but find a hint of truth stuck somewhere between his words.

The kissing, the touching, the tasting, the laughing and the loving did feel real to her. It felt real when she saw the way he smiled after every one of their kisses, and the way he reached for her when it was just to two of them, like he couldn’t get enough, and the way he moaned against her, and the way he told her he loved her, like he meant it.

She knows all of his movements and all of his habits — knows all the signs of his stress, his sadness, his tension, his ease. She knows the emotions he wears and the ones he doesn’t, notices everything he does and doesn’t do, and never once did anything he did with her seem anything less than genuine.

She hates that it’s taken her so long to see that, but it doesn’t fix all that he had broken now that she does. She wishes that it could, this life would be so much easier for her to live.

“You really hurt me.” Her voice quivers, low and quiet as she speaks her truth, and it breaks his heart all over again. Never has he heard her sound so sad in his life, and it’s all because of him.

“You think I don’t know that? I hate myself for everything I put you through because you didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

He pauses, waiting for her to say anything else, but it doesn’t come. All there is for her to offer are her silent cries and waterfall eyes.

“That night with Lydia… nothing happened. She caught me off guard and I panicked because how could I not? She was giving me everything I thought I wanted yet all I could think about was how I wanted it to be you.” Y/n’s breath falters then, a knot forming in her chest as she revisits the sight of that horrific night. “I tried so hard to talk it out with her, but she wouldn’t let it go. She kept persisting and persisting and she didn’t give me the chance to explain myself before you walked in on us.”

She didn’t truly know what happened between him and Lydia, but she had her ideas. Whether they kissed, touched, confessed their love or crossed bases, the truth would have only made it worse for herself. Ignorance was bliss when it came to them.

But she didn’t think nothing happened, either, especially when the first words that Y/n heard Lydia say to him that night was I love you, too.

Too.

Too.

Too.

Like he said it first.

She really hopes he didn’t, but she’s so afraid of his answer that she doesn’t ask.

But she doesn’t say anything else, either, because there’s so much more she needs to hear from him but she doesn’t know where to start. She doesn’t know what to do, yet she wants to know everything.

“You were all I ever wanted and I’m so sorry for the way I had to find that out. I’m so sorry that I had to hurt you to realize how ridiculously in love I am with you.”

And how ridiculous it’s gotten.

“It haunts me. It follows me everywhere I go. Every morning, I think about the way you slept beside me in Malibu and how perfect you looked before you even had the chance to wake. I still reach for you even when I know you’re not there just so I can say I tried. Every time I walk the street, I somehow convince myself that I see you walk past me and I always turn back just in case I missed you. Then I spend the rest of my day wondering where you are and how much happier I’d be if you were with me.”

And it’s all so true.

She is around him at all times. Her spirit lingers in the air he breathes, her shadow alive in every ray of sun that touches his skin, unable to be soaked away. The ghost of her is everywhere he is, always, and it pained him just as much as it comforted him.

“I come across all these women and go on all these dates in hopes to find someone that makes me feel half the things you do, just to go home hours later and watch all the stupid videos and photos I’ve taken of you throughout the years because it’s you that my heart is after. Nobody else.”

She melts into herself at his confession.

To know it wasn’t one-sided — the longing, the missing, the wanting so bad that he couldn’t help but look back at all their memories together. Whether he was beside those women or not, she had done the very same thing, and it’s almost as if those hidden moments of desperation were a silent call to one another.

He reaches his hand to her thigh again, his skin warming her to her bitter core, setting a fire in her that had burnt out many years ago. And she doesn’t stop staring at it.

“I love you, Y/n. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything else in this world. I love you so much that it drove me crazy to think about you spending the rest of your life with somebody else because I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of mine without you. But that’s my heartbreak to live with, not yours.”

But it is. It is because he’s the only one she’s ever wanted and living her life with someone else was once unimaginable. It still is. Even through her relationship with Alfie and everything they’ve built together, it wasn’t ever the same.

And it’s not a matter of her not loving him, because she does, just not in the way she loves Harry. He is a high she constantly fiends for, an intoxication that keeps her wild and free, an addiction like no other. Being without him makes her feel sober — in a constant state of withdrawal, falling down deeper into her urges, dependent solely on her relapses — and Alfie is just the mild distraction.

All of this is her heartbreak.

His fingertips rub softly at her leg.

“You’re the best person I’ve ever known. I don't know how I’m ever going to find a way to move on from you, and I don’t know if I ever will, but at least I had the chance to tell you everything you deserved to know. I didn’t think I’d ever have it.”

She still doesn’t answer him, but he didn’t expect anything more.

He wishes he could stay with her for just a bit longer, but he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome (if he could even call it that). And he starts to cry as he thinks about leaving her alone again.

She’s forever going to be his hardest loss.

“I have so much more I want to say to you, but this is your night with Alfie. I don’t want to be the one to hold you back from it.”

He squeezes the top of her thigh, dreading the let go. This may be the last time he sees her or speaks to her for a while, and that in itself is enough to make this so much harder on him.

“I’ll miss you everyday.”

He can’t even look at her as he says it.

His eyes are flooded with sadness as he stands from where he sat beside her, shaking fingers wiping at his tears, his heart the emptiest it’s ever been yet his chest heavier than ever before.

It suddenly dawns on her that she never wants to see him walk away from her again. She doesn’t want to go another dreaded day without him beside her, or go the rest of the night thinking of everything she could have said, but didn’t.

She wants him. She loves him. And she doesn’t want him to go.

“Wait.” She grabs his hand in both of hers before he can make it too far, her eyes wet but the brightest he’d ever seen them. “The party doesn’t end for a while and — and Alfie hasn’t come looking for me since it started, so…” She hesitates, his hands still in hers, and everything is right in the world again. “Do you want to take a walk with me? It doesn’t matter where just, please stay here with me?”

And how could Harry ever say no to her?

He lifts her up from where she sits, the first real and genuine smile he’s seen out of her since they’ve reunited spreading on her lips, and he wouldn’t trade this for the world.

They stray further than expected, catching up on everything they’ve missed throughout the years. It all feels so easy and so right, as if time had hardly passed between them, yet they’ve never felt more apart. Never once did they expect to live in each other’s world through late night storytelling and clandestine getaways.

They laugh. They cry. They reminisce. And they don’t let go of each other’s hand the whole night through.

-

Y/n returns to the back porch a couple hours later, grabbing the finished champagne glass she’d left on the top step to seem as inconspicuous as possible. Not that she necessarily has to, she doesn’t feel as though she’s done anything wrong, she just couldn’t imagine what would come from this if Alfie was to find out.

She slides the back door shut quietly behind her, the remaining guests only giving her a small smile of acknowledgement, none at all suspicious. Some offer her hugs and mingle with her, congratulating her as if it were their first time doing so, telling her how perfect of a marriage she and Alfie are going to have.

If only they knew.

But it isn’t until the last of the lingering guests make it out the door that Y/n and Alfie are left alone — the most dangerous place for them to be. And neither of them speak a word to each other, just meeting eyes for a brief moment in time, as if avoiding everything else that came with the night.

The air is heavy, the chill brutal, but it’s what Y/n is so used to. This is her normalcy.

“I’m glad you had fun tonight.” Y/n says plainly, gathering all the littered champagne and wine glasses floating around the kitchen.

In any other circumstance, she would have stood her ground much more strongly, but the bitterness inside her subsided to something much sweeter after her time with Harry. The weight of the world is gone, it seems, the moon and sun and stars aligned perfectly in her universe. She is weightless, floating, her spirit dancing along the edges of her own personal heaven.

The silence Alfie responds with doesn’t strike a nerve like it usually would. It rather goes unnoticed, only furthering her into her illicit dreamland.

Harry’s touch lingers on her skin and she can feel it all the same even though he’s gone. A shiver runs down her spine as she thinks back to the way his lips pressed against her cheek before parting ways, muttering the quietest goodnight, lovie against her skin, leaving her breathless.

She is endlessly hypnotized by him, forever under his spell, as if his lips were made of magic.

And Alfie’s heart sinks when he sees the look on her face. It’s been years since he’s seen it, yet it’s all so familiar once he does. It’s the same look he fell in love with when he first met her in Malibu.

It’s all so clear to him now.

“So we’re just going to pretend that you didn’t leave our engagement party with Harry?”

Y/n lifts her head to look at him properly for what seems to be the first time tonight, his question catching her off guard since she had so rightfully assumed he wasn’t concerned about her whereabouts, and Harry didn’t make his presence known to anybody but her.

But she doesn’t fight it, doesn’t deny it, doesn’t try to scrape for excuses that’ll only dig her in deeper because she doesn’t regret what she did or why she did it. She has no reason to.

“And we’re just going to pretend that you didn’t completely exclude me from our engagement party?”

Alfie’s hands slam against the kitchen counter, a bitter and sarcastic laugh falling from his lips, as if she had said something untrue. “So I don’t give you attention for two minutes and you decide to run off with some other guy?”

“Two minutes? Try two hours on a night that was supposed to be for us.” It’s her turn to slam her hands down, except hers land on her thighs. “I was sitting on our back porch all night and nobody, not even you, came looking for me.” She sits down on the island stool with burnt-out eyes and heavy shoulders, drained from the reality of their relationship, tired of trying for somebody that’s never held her heart the right way. “Harry was miles away and even he found a way to find me.”

And just like always, it all circles back to Harry.

She’s never been one to compare — verbally, at least — so there is a gloom that hovers over her after she says it, the guilt settling in her bones, but it’s the reality of their situation. An old lover held his hand out to her while Alfie refused hers, and it ended up exactly where it had always belonged.

“All you had to do was ask me to be with you.” He sighs, depleted, because it’s true. He would have been there the second she called his name. It’s the fact that she didn’t that shows him how incompatible he is with her wants.

“I shouldn’t have to.” She frowns, fingers fiddling with the skin around her nails as she contemplates what there is to say next. “Is that how this marriage is going to work? Me begging you to be there for me all the time? Because I’ve never been that kind of person. I will never be that person.”

Alfie breathes heavily in response but doesn’t know what else to do or say to get her to stay. She’s slipping right through his fingers and he can physically feel it — can feel the way she feels for another man, can see the way her eyes refuse him, as if hiding away from something.

But this isn’t about him, it can’t be because it was all going so well, so much better than ever before and nothing ever pushed her away, until Harry.

This is all him.

“You know he doesn’t love you, right?” Alfie breaks the silence, her heart along with it, because she needs to be reminded how badly he had done her wrong. She wouldn’t be turning him into the villain if she did. “He lied to you. He used you to get what he wanted. He —”

“He does love me.” She interrupts him because she doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want him to talk her out of this, no matter how much she should. But it’s on the tip of her tongue, almost breaking from its resistance, and she can’t swallow it back down now. “He was there for me more than you were tonight and he’s not even the one I’m engaged to.”

Another deafening silence.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He understood her, loud and clear, but she’s speaking between the lines. There’s a part of her that’s holding back from something and he already knows what it is, he just needs to hear her say it.

So she does.

“I’m in love with him, Alfie.”

If the confession of her disloyalty wasn’t enough to tear her apart, the choked back sob she heard from Alfie undeniably did so.

She shuts her eyes, pained, unable to take it.

He doesn’t deserve this, but she’s left with no choice. She’ll only hurt him more if she stays.

So she doesn’t.

-

The morning after.

Harry didn’t know what was to come after he confessed his love to Y/n — whether it be a new day of a new life away from her, or the beginning of something so beautifully timeless, he had no idea.

The closure warmed him enough to lull him to sleep, to keep him deep in a dreamstate where all he envisioned was sunny days and the touch of her hand in his. He had never felt so light, so free, so liberated from the cage of guilt and unspoken truths that even if he were to never see or hear from Y/n again, it would have been okay.

He said what he needed to say, she heard what she wanted to hear and that’s all he could have done without interfering with her relationship.

But what he wakes up to is far from anything that ever crossed his mind.

Seven missed calls and five text messages. All from Y/n.

H, please tell me you’re awake. I need you.

I ended it with Alfie.

I don’t have anywhere to go and you’re the only person I want to see right now. Can you meet me at the coffee shop? I really need to talk to you.

Please wake up.

H?

Harry sits himself up in a state of panic, his eyes jumping between the time she had messaged him last and the time it is now. And he springs himself out of bed when he realizes that he hasn’t missed out on her yet, planning to get to her as fast as he can as he throws yesterday’s outfit, not at all caring about how it makes him look.

She ended it with Alfie.

He’s the only person she wants to see right now.

She needs him.

That’s all he can process as he scurries down the street, thinking of everything he has left to tell her to try and win her heart again. He knows he’s undeserving of it, and she does too, but that doesn’t stop him from loving her the way that he does.

His life is meaningless without her, so dry and bleak and depressing he can’t live another day like it. He can’t and he won’t because he’s going to fix this. He has to fix this.

And it doesn’t take him long to find her because there she is, sitting at their usual outdoor table, a large hot tea held between her hands, her leg shaking, her eyes distant. It's such a heartbreaking sight, and he suddenly wonders if she ever sat there after their breakup, waiting for him, hoping he’d do the very same.

The thought makes his head twitch to the side and fingers twist with guilt because no, he never did. He never went back to that coffee shop since the goodbye. It would have hurt too much, it would have reminded him of everything he’d ever done wrong and he couldn’t bear to face the person he once made of himself.

That person died along with her.

She stands from her seat when she sees him walking toward her, exhausted mentally and physically enough to nearly fall from her feet in the process. But her heart is racing a million miles an hour, her stomach fluttering as he grows nearer, her senses of anything but the love she has for him disappearing to nothing, as if it were just the two of them.

And she just needs to know if it feels that way for him, too.

“Y/n —”

“Did you mean it?”

Harry hesitates then, stopping in his tracks, his head tilting at her in curiosity but his features are softer, sadder, as if the question somehow broke him down further than before.

She doesn’t need to elaborate because he already understands what she’s asking. It was his mistakes and his selfishness that led her to question all his intentions, to doubt every sentiment he’s ever given to her, to wonder what was real and what was pretend.

But he doesn’t know what to start with, he doesn’t know what she needs to hear from him to be satisfied with his answer, or know if what he doesn’t say is what breaks this relationship.

“I need you to look at me and tell me that you meant it.” Y/n demands when he fails to answer her, tears flooding yet her face pressed and hard, committed to hearing every last bit of truth he has left. “Because I gave up everything I had for just the smallest possibility that you did. And that may make me weak, that may make me pathetic, and I may hate myself for the rest of my life knowing I made that decision but I can’t help feeling the way I feel for you.”

This is his last chance.

The window of opportunity is open and he is more than willing to dive head first out of it, but he can’t get ahead of himself. One wrong move, one wrong word, one wrong anything and he will have to endure an eternity of misery without her.

So he gives her more than she demands.

He grabs her face between his two hands, gently stroking her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, his gaze set on hers so that she can see how deeply he feels for her and how desperate he is for her forgiveness.

“I meant it.” He breathes out, his lips so painfully close to hers, she can feel his breath as he talks and it makes her legs shake from beneath her. “I’m in love with you. You’re all I think about. You’re all I want.” He leans in closer, ever so slightly, just so the ghost of her lips can meet the ghost of his. “There’s never been anybody but you. Just you. Only you.”

Her breath stammers, quivering and cracking as she flutters her eyes shut at his words, unforgiving tears pouring down her cheeks. And she doesn’t know why she’s reacting this way — the love of her life is giving her everything she’s ever asked for and yet all she can manage to do is break down from everything she’d been keeping inside for so long.

He knees buckle as a particularly violent sob nearly takes her down, and if it wasn’t for Harry’s strong hold on her, she’s sure she would have collapsed to the floor.

Her tears, his shirt, his hands, her back.

This is the closest they’ve been to each other in so long, his heart nearly shatters along with hers. He missed this more than he missed anything else in this world.

“Don’t cry, baby. It’s alright. You’re alright.” Harry shushes her, his lips settling on the top of her head as he presses chaste kisses on it, his fingers combing through her unbrushed hair. “I’m with you, okay? I’m never leaving you again.”

And he holds her for a while, tying her together as she falls apart in his arms, vowing to her over and over again that this is all over. All the pain is over. Everything will be different now.

And it was.

It felt different when Y/n and Harry spent the rest of the morning sitting in their favorite coffee shop, at their favorite table, drinking their favorite lattes. It felt different when Harry reached his hand over to hold hers, this time with no ulterior motive.

It felt different when she held his hand back, and when she smiled down at where they were intertwined, as if they were an extension of each other.

And unlike the last time they were there together, he doesn’t have to let go.

[orange-waterfalls]

...Happy New Year?

Darkiplier x gn!reader x Wilford

A/N: I am so disappointed and surprised that I haven’t written anything poly yet are you KIDDING ME. Does it take me 5 months to write a single fic? No. Might take me that long to find motivation and SINCE I don’t wanna be an ASSHOLE who takes requests and then DOESN’T WRITE THEM I’m probably gonna take a bit to think and figure out what I wanna do here with the blog. Uhhh reader is a retail worker who’s just. Tired and stressed. Dark and Wil decide to comfort them because good boyfriends are good! TW: mention of weed. And suggestive phrases? Also cursing. That’s it. Rated T. Enjoy and have a happy New Year everybody!

Word Count: 2.7k

--

“Do you have to?” Wilford all but whined when you got ready for work. Except he did not whine because he does not whine because he is Wilford Warfstache, thank you. “It’s New Year’s Eve!”

“I’m fully aware what day it is, hon,” You said in a very soft voice because you knew Wilford had to be let down gently or he’d be grouchy for the next few months. “That’s why I’m not working overtime. Hopefully. Maybe I can get Sara to take over my shift, she’s not doing anything tonight. I wish I could’ve taken the morning shift, I do.” Darkiplier appeared next to Wilford, looking just as desperate.

“Can you not just… not… go?” Dark suggested, trying not to sound too needy. He knew that he failed by the look you gave him.

“I have to work, boys.”

“Do you though?”

“Wilford...”

“I can get you money.”

“Are you suggesting illegal activities, Mr. Warfstache?”

“We are not… besides stealing.”

“Wil.”

“We could pawn off Mark’s stuff, it’s probably worth a lot!”

“Both of you, stop it!” You said in a stern voice. They both looked like kicked puppies and you felt a little bad about it. “I’ll get home when I get home. You know I love you. If I never had to leave you, I wouldn’t. But I gotta, ok?”

“Kissies?” Wilford asked, tapping the tips of his fingers together. Darkiplier looked at the motion and back at his own fingers, seemingly trying to replicate it. You stared at his hands for a moment, watching the struggle with a resigned sort of curiosity. Wilford also stared at them until he couldn’t take it anymore and just put his hands over Dark’s.

“Just-Just… stop.” He said gently. Dark lowered his hands and they both looked back to you. You shook your head.

“I’ll be back before midnight. Order some takeout, please.”

“Sure thing, boss!” Wilford saluted.

“Goodbye, darling.” Darkiplier gave a little bow. You smiled warmly, walking over to the two. Darkiplier turned his head and you kissed his cheek. You tried to do the same for Wilford, but he turned his head back at the last second to catch your lips in a kiss. Additionally, he grabbed your face to keep you there. You pulled away and gently smacked his cheek before heading back to the door. Darkiplier glared at him a little. He stuck his tongue out in response.

“Bye! Love you!”

“We love you too, babes!” Wil called, wrapping his arms around Dark’s neck and leaning against him. Dark waved a goodbye to you. You shut and locked the door behind you. 

“Wil?” Dark said after they stood like that for a while.

“Yep?” Wil responded with his cheek squished to Dark’s shoulder.

“If you’re gonna cling to me we could at least lay down.”

“Cuddle time?”

“Sure. Cuddle time. Come on.” Dark tried to walk to the three’s shared bedroom, but Wilford wouldn’t let go. He quirked an eyebrow at the reporter. “Wil?”

“Yes?”

“May you… let go?”

“No.”

“Wil.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Wil…”

“No.”

“We can’t cuddle if you don’t let go.”

“Lies. Deception.”

“Wil, please, work with me here.” They looked at each other. Wilford slowly removed his arms from around the other man’s neck. Dark caught one of his hands, bringing his palm to his lips and gently kissing his hand.

“Someone’s feeling affectionate!” Wil exclaimed. Dark intertwined their fingers and gave his hand a squeeze before finally walking to the room.

The bedroom had mostly shades of black, white, and blue decor, apart from the fluffy red pillows you just had to have, along with a few stuffed animals. Darkiplier had his office with his red and black velvet and Wilford had his own… wherever he hung out, so they didn’t mind you choosing the colors. Anything to stop Wilford from painting the walls yellow of all colors. 

Wilford turned around and pulled Dark in by his waist, swaying in a little dance. 

“What are you doing?” Dark tried and failed to conceal his smile and laugh.

“Dancing with my lover, what does it look like?” Wilford nuzzled their noses together.

“I thought you wanted to cuddle.”

“I do.”

“Then why are we dancing?”

“Can’t we just dance for a bit?” Darkiplier pulled back and looked at Wil, who was currently avoiding eye contact. He sighed.

“Feels a little weird without Y/N?” He asked. Wilford hummed, still not looking him in the eye. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to.”

“We can wait until they get home, it’s really not--”

“I do want to…”

“But?”

“Mm…”

“Want to prove you aren’t absolutely whipped?”

“Excuse you?!”

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“I am-- You-- Wilford Warfstache simps for NOBODY!”

“Says Mr. Hundred Dollar Pillows.”

“Listen here you son of a bitch--” Wilford backed away and held up a finger to explain exactly why he was no simp. Dark took the opportunity to push him onto the bed. “Ooh! Frisky!”

“Shut it.” He climbed into the bed next to him. Wilford draped himself across Dark’s chest, nuzzling into him. They sighed contentedly. 

“Dark?”

“Mm?”

“What did I do to deserve you two?”

“Me? You were nice and accepting. I still don’t believe either of us deserve Y/N.”

“Oh, come on, there has to be something.”

“Wil, both of us have killed multiple people. I think whatever good we’ve done will get canceled out.”

“...right.”

They lay like that for a bit, enjoying just being there. Suddenly, Wilford picked his head up.

“What’s happening? You have a look? What is that look?” Dark furrowed his eyebrows.

“I have the best idea!” Wilford jumped up and ran to the closet.

“What?” Dark sat up.

“We are surprising our lover with romance!” He threw Dark’s suit at him, picking out his own at the same time.

“...and suits?”

“Yes! Well, your suit. It makes you look sexy.”

“Wil.”

“Their words, not mine!”

“Why are we--”

“It’s New Year’s, Dark! They’re stressed! They’re tired! They deserve a surprise! Where the Devil are my suspenders?”

“Wil, I don’t think--”

“That’s right, Dark. You don’t think. You can just sit there and look pretty while Wilford Lovemaster Warfstache plans it out!”

“Lovemaster?”

“I was due for a new middle name anyways. Chop chop!”

Dark hesitantly put on his suit while Wilford looked for his suspenders. He looked in the mirror, deciding whether he looked… “sexier” with or without a tie. He eventually decided without, even popping a few buttons of his dress shirt. Wilford walked back in, wearing a hot pink button up, yellow suspenders, and a blue bowtie.

“...hot!” He said before walking up next to Dark and taking a selfie of the two. Dark looked over his shoulder and watched him send it to you with the caption ‘your two special boys!’. He caught a look at some previous messages.

“Wil, what’s poggers?”

“New-fangled lingo, don’t worry about it. Do we have roses? Ask Illinois to bring us roses.”

“Wil, what is happening.”

“ROMANCE!” He yelled, exasperated. “Romance is happening, Dark.”

“Romance… right.”

“And suits, precisely. Come on, order Chinese from that place they like.”

“...is this a good idea? Suits and chinese?”

“It’s a fantastic idea, now order the goddamn food.”

--

Darkiplier and Wilford sat on the couch in your apartment, reading a book they’d found. Wil was leaning on Dark’s shoulder with one leg draped over his. There was a little time until New Year’s, and they really wanted to spend it with you. Dark would never admit it, but he missed you. Quite a lot, actually. You’ve weaseled your way into his heart and now he’s a little dependent. Wil would proudly scream it to the world if he could. Dark would never let him.

Dark glanced up at the clock, seeing the 11:00 time. He scowled, closing the book and tossing it to the other side of the couch. He leaned his head back and sighed. He debated calling you with Wilford beforehand, maybe even just to hear your voice on the voicemail, but he was sure that would be too needy of him. He has a reputation to uphold, thank you very much.

“Miss your other lover, Darkipoo?” Wilfor teased.

“Obviously. I’m used to two heat sources, not one.”

“Oh, am I not good enough for Mr. Darkiplier?”

“I never said that.”

“You were thinkin’ it.”

“You can’t read minds, Wil, stick to your interviews.” He said in a faux-mocking manner. They smiled at each other.

Dark shot up from the couch the moment he heard your key in the lock. He adjusted his suit, squared his shoulders, and cleared his throat. He couldn’t help a smile as he held a white rose, Wilford doing the same as he held a pink one.

So, of course, they jumped a little when you slammed the door behind you.

“Uh. Darling? Are you--”

“I fucking hate EVERYTHING!” You yelled. Dark blinked. He glanced at WIlford, who looked just as surprised. You paced around the living room, looking like you were about to commit murder. He shuffled closer to Wilford, and leaned in.

“Wil, what are we supposed to do?” He whispered.

“Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.” Wilford said in a voice that told Dark he was quoting something.

“Wil, I don’t know what the fuck that is.”

“It-It’s a meme-Do you just not go on the internet? Ever? Nevermind, just follow my lead.” He grabbed the roses, putting them in a nearby cup of water. He walked over to where you were and gently grabbed your shoulders. “Here, darling, sit, tell us about it.” 

He led you to the couch and sat you down, sitting next to you. He snapped his fingers at Dark, pointing to your shoulders. Dark hesitantly walked over and started to massage your shoulders. You sighed a little, relaxing. Wil nodded and gave him a thumbs up.

“There were so many assholes today, man.”

“Mm-hm. Tell Wilford about it.”

“There was this guy who kept asking where this one thing that we didn’t have was, this lady kept insisting her coupons were not expired, don’t even get me started on Jared and Melissa.” 

“Who are Jared and Melissa?” Dark asked.

“Oh, FUCK Jared and Melissa!” You suddenly got to your feet again and started pacing again.

“Y-Yeah, fuck Jared and Melissa!” Wil agreed. “Who are Jared and Melissa?”

“Hell if I know, just go with it, I’ll get the takeout.” Dark patted him on the back.

“Angel wasn’t even there to talk to today, God, I miss them so much already.”

“Angel is the coworker who…”

“Oh, they have the cats, Socks and Mittens.”

“Oh, so Angie--”

“Angie is Angelo, and he smokes weed in the back. He’s cool too. He was too high to fucking function today, though.”

“So, uh, where was Angel?” Wil looked back into the kitchen and saw Dark loading up their plates with the food. Wil suddenly remembered that he was wearing a pink shirt. He didn’t know whether the stains would be prominent and he did not intend to find out. He snuck away into the bedroom to change. Suits were a bad idea, he should’ve listened to Dark. 

He changed into a T-shirt with the design of a suit and some grey sweatpants and somehow made his way back to the living room before you’d finished your first sentence. You noticed this, because you stared at his change of clothes.

“...weren’t you wearing a suit? Like an actual one?”

“No.”

“But-”

“I wasn’t.”

“You sent me a picture.”

“The, uh… suits were… part of a different… situation…” He said, not knowing what the fuck he was actually saying to you. You seemed to get something from it because you said:

“Ah. I see.” Before going back to your rant. Wil looked at Dark as he walked into the living room. He wasn’t wearing the suit jacket, only the black dress shirt. He also had black pants instead of the white ones.

Wilford nodded and whispered “Good choice.” Dark nodded and whispered “I told you so.”, so Wilford flipped him off. Dark sat the plates down while Wil pushed you down by your shoulders. You buried your face in your hands and groaned. Wil rubbed a hand up and down your back while Darkiplier poured drinks. You rubbed your face before leaning back and letting them drop. You looked down at the food. Then at Wilford. Then at Dark.

“Am I… missing something?” You said in a small voice.

“Hm?” Wil tilted his head at you.

“I feel like something was supposed to happen. Did I ruin your plans?” You frowned, starting to feel guilty. 

“No, no, darling, you couldn’t ruin anything.” Wilford shifted closer to you and put his arm around your shoulders, rubbing up and down your arm.

“You sure? It feels like something I could do…”

“You could never because anything involving you is perfect.” Dark whispered after he gently took your chin in his hand and turned you towards him.

“Booooooo.” Wil called.

“Wha?”

“That was so cheesy, Dark.” You smiled.

“So sappy. Disgusting.” Wil agreed.

“Shameful.” You both shook your heads.

“Both of you can fuck off.” Dark huffed and crossed his arms. You kissed him, gently holding his face in your hands, making him smirk.

“Hey! How come the edgy one gets a kiss kiss!”

“You tricked me this morning, no kiss kiss for you!”

“Dark! Tell them!”

“You heard them, no kiss kiss.”

“Wh-”

“Hey, I have an idea! Why don’t we eat and watch shitty rom coms!”

“Don’t you wanna watch the clock?” Dark asked.

“Not particularly…” You looked down and the smile left your face. Wilford and Dark gave each other a look before they each took one of your hands and squeezed them.

“Ok. We can do that.”

--

The three of you laid in bed, you and Wilford cuddling into either side of Dark. Countdown forgotten, already passed a while ago. Dark still had his dress shirt and you were still wearing your work clothes. Dark stared at the ceiling, focusing on the sounds around his. 

The fireworks outside.

The clock ticking rhythmically.

The soft and constant breathing from his two favorite people.

He took a deep breath and tried his best to push down all the bad and intrusive thoughts.

What if I hurt them? What if they decide I’m not good enough? What if I’m not good enough?

No. No ‘what if’s. That doesn’t matter. What matters is they love him and he loves them. 

He looked down at you, your soft face squished into his arm, and he smiled at the warmth that bloomed throughout his chest. He looked over at Wilford and sucked in a breath when he found him staring at Dark.

“...can’t sleep?” Wilford said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.

“No, I just…” He took a deep breath. “I just…”

“Wha happened?” You slurred, waking up. Dark flinched.

“Both of you should go back to sleep.”

“Why’re you awake then?” Wilford challenged.

“I was just… thinking.”

“About?” You yawned.

“About… how much I… love you two.” Both you and Wilford froze and Dark’s breathing sped up, scared he’d done something wrong.

“Awww, he wuvs us!” Wil giggled.

“How much do you wuv us, Dark?” You crossed your arms on his chest, resting your cheek against them and looking at Dark.

“...a lot.” He monotoned, staring at the ceiling.

“Do you wuv us soooo much?” Wilford batted his eyelashes.

“I’m starting to love you less and less.” Dark growled.

“Awwww he does!” You laughed

“Go. Back. To. Sleep. Please.” Darkiplier begged because Darkiplier does apparently beg, who would’ve thought.

“Yessir…” you said, another yawn taking over the word. You got back into your previous position, your arms gripping his and pressed into his side. Wilford took a similar one, just a little further up. You fell back asleep after a little bit, but the other two stayed awake.

“Happy you have both of your heatsources back?” Wilford whispered, a smile evident in his voice. Dark sighed, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of both his loves holding onto him like a lifeline. A ghost of a smile crossed his face.

“Yes. I am.”

[kaeyastopmakingicepuns]

Hey, I suck at writing fics that have a plot, so here's a little Diluc x Reader prompt, for anyone who wants it.

It occurred to me that Diluc's character had been MADE for a fake!married trope, and this scene popped into my head, but I didn't know how to go further with it, so if anyone wants to continue it, or use it for inspiration, please be my guest! :)

Diluc x Reader Fake!Married AU

"There you are," you said, paying no mind to your fancy clothes as you plopped yourself down on the dusty floor to lean against the cold, stone wall of the wine cellar. You had found Diluc right where you had expected to whenever the winery held these public festivals.

Diluc, seated on the ground next to you, merely grunted in response, taking a swig from the glass bottle he held before he nestled it back into its place in the crook of his arm.

"People are looking for you, ya know," you commented idly.

Another grunt. Honestly, having a conversation with this man could be like pulling teeth at times. It was a good thing that you had known him long enough to have learned that once you did get him talking, Mondstadt’s grumpiest bartender was actually a huge softie with a droll sense of humor that never failed to have you clutching your sides with laughter at least once or twice before he inevitably clammed up again.

“There’s a new bard in town.” You tried again. “Goes by the name ‘Dandelion.’ Wants to woo you with a special poem he wrote just for you.”

And yet another grunt punctuated by a long swig from the bottle. Time for drastic measures.

“Hey!” Diluc cried, uttering the first word you’d heard from him all evening as you snatched the bottle from his hand and helped yourself to its contents. You lowered the bottle as soon as the drink hit your tongue and spat the sip you had taken to the side.

“This is just stale grape juice,” you said in disgust. Honestly, you should have known, but the way he was nursing the drink had you convinced it was something stronger.

Diluc rolled his eyes as a plucked the bottle out of your grip. “Wait ‘til you find out what wine is,” he remarked drily.

You laughed. There was the Diluc whose company you had sought out. “Connor would cry in shame if he ever heard you say that.”

Diluc winced. “Please don’t tell him,” he pleaded.

“Of course not,” you agreed. “No way I could break his heart like that.” You grabbed the bottle again and took a proper drink this time. Now that you were expecting the sweeter beverage, it was actually quite good. Dawn winery didn’t get its reputation for nothing, its grape juice was just as good as its wine.

“How much longer do you suppose I have?” Diluc asked with a grimace as you passed the bottle back to him.

“What, before they come bursting down here trying to marry you off to their sons or daughters? Oh, not long at all,” you teased, accepting the bottle as he passed it back to you.

Diluc groaned. “Archons, I hate this. I wish they’d just leave me alone.”

You gesture in his direction, using the neck of the bottle to point at him, ignoring the way the juice sloshed around dangerously inside, threatening to spill on Diluc, who leaned away from your waving arms with a frown. “You know what you need to do?” you asked playfully. “You need to get fake married.”

Instead of laughing at your joke, Diluc’s brow scrunched up in puzzlement. “I need to get what?”

You sighed. Leave it to Diluc to not be aware of classic story clichés. “You know, disappear for a week or two, then return with some pretty thing on your arm and just tell everybody that you’ve eloped.”

Diluc scowled. “But I don’t want to get eloped.”

Archons, but he was lucky he was pretty. Diluc was generally an incredibly smart guy, but sometimes the way he failed to employ common sense baffled you. Like when he had used slime bait near his own vineyard and had to fight off a few curious slimes every few hours for a week.  Still, being (secretly) big of heart and dumb of ass was what made Diluc, well, Diluc, and you wouldn't have him any other way.

“You wouldn’t actually get eloped,” you explained slowly. “You would just pretend to. You and whatever idiot you persuaded to be your fake spouse would know, but no one else would. That way, you get to be free from all the hassle of being a bachelor, and some lucky sucker gets to, I dunno, live in the manor rent free, or something. I’m not really sure what you would offer them to make it equitable, but I’m sure you can think of something, you’re rich, after all.”

It seemed Diluc still wasn’t getting the joke as, judging from the contemplative look on his face, he was actually giving the idea some serious thought. “That... might actually work,” he said thoughtfully.

Of course he would think this was a good plan, this was the same guy who thought it would be better if the city of Mondstadt was attacked from two fronts at the same time, rather than him revealing himself as the city’s so-called ‘Dark Knight Hero.’

“There is something you do have to be very careful of, though,” you said gravely, schooling your expression into something serious.

Diluc looked at you with concern. “What?”

“You have to make sure you pick someone whom you will absolutely not fall in love with, and will not fall in love with you under any circumstances,” You said. finally passing the grape juice back to him as you realized you were still holding it. Diluc took it and set it on the floor between you. “That’s how these things always go, someone falls in love with the other one and suddenly bam!” You punched your hand into your fist for emphasis, pleased to see that Diluc had been listening to you intently enough that he started a little. “The whole scheme goes up in smoke,” you said dramatically.

Diluc rolled his eyes. “Someone I won’t fall in love with?” he repeated. “How about you?”

“Ouch!” You put your hand to your chest in mock offense. That was clearly payback for making him jump.

Something flickered behind Diluc’s eyes and you hurried to make a teasing remark, knowing that if Diluc thought he had actually hurt your feelings his social awkwardness would instantly turn him back into Mr. Tall, Dark, Silent, and Brooding.

“And you call yourself a gentleman,” you said, lightly shoving his arm.

Diluc smirked back at you, visibly relaxing as soon as he was reassured you weren’t actually insulted. “I can be a gentleman,” he said, “when the situation calls for it.”

“I’ve never seen it,” you scoffed.

“Do you want to?” he asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

You did, weirdly enough. At least a little. But rather than say that you snorted and said, “Archons, no.”

“I thought as much,” Diluc said confidently. He picked up the bottle again and finished it off, before giving you a sidelong glance. “You didn’t say ‘no.’“

“I didn’t,” you admitted. But that didn’t mean you were saying yes. After all, there had to be a reason this stuff only happened in stories, right? It’s not like this kind of game could work if attempted in real life.

“How would it even work?” you asked. “I mean, this kind of thing can only stay a secret for so long. It just takes one person learning the truth, and suddenly everyone knows. And it’s not like you can just explain away the fact that we have separate bedrooms to your staff, so that right there is where it all starts to fall apart.”

“No, it’s not.,” Diluc insisted. “It’s not at all uncommon for a husband and wife to have separate rooms. Royals do it all the time.”

You barked out a laugh. “Oh, so you’re royalty now? I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you took that ‘uncrowned king of Mondstadt’ thing so seriously. And all this time I’ve been calling you by your first name. Is ‘your majesty’ too informal when we’re alone? Is it to be ‘His Esteemed Royal Highness, Diluc Ragnvindr of the Grape-Growing-Greats’ at all times?”

Diluc sighed. “Stop that, I just meant it’s not without precedent. My parents had separate rooms here when I was a kid, it’s not unthinkable.”

You blinked. You hadn’t known that. “They did?”

“Yeah,” he said. “They rarely made use of both of them, but they did. It’s expected of nobility, somewhat.”

Huh. There might be something to this plan, after all.

“And you still haven’t said ‘no,’“ Diluc said.

You hadn’t. Were you actually considering this?

“If you lived at the winery, you wouldn’t have to walk down here from Mondstadt every day,” he pointed out casually. Damn him for knowing your one weak point-- your hatred for your daily commute.

You were saved from having to answer by the torch on the wall going out with a pop, plunging the two of you into darkness. You squeaked and instinctively grabbed onto Diluc’s arm.

“Sorry,” Diluc said. “It must be a faulty torch. That’s the third time it’s gone out this week. I’ll get it.”

You felt Diluc wave his hand, and the torch flared back to life, illuminating the small corner of the cellar once again.

“Thanks,” you said, letting go of Diluc’s arm, wondering at the way Diluc’s face seemed to flare blight red in the glow of the firelight.

Suddenly, your eyes widened. “Archons, Diluc, you’re on fire again!” Was there a single pyro vision wielder in all of Teyvat that had mastered the art of not setting themselves on fire whenever they used their vision?

Diluc swore under his breath and began frantically patting his arm in an attempt to smother the flames. You helped, and, between the two of you, managed to get the small flame put out in a matter of seconds. Just another day at Dawn Winery.

Diluc stood, making sure there were no other embers lying around that could burn the whole manor down. “I should get back to the party,” he grumbled, offering you a hand to help you to your feet.

You followed him up the stairs, your earlier conversation seemingly forgotten. You were confidant that once the pressure from the party was gone the next morning, Diluc would never bring up the thought again, and you would both carry on with your lives.

But, still, neither of you had said ‘no.’

[allthingsfangirl101]

Overly Protective Coworkers-Matt Brody

Matt's POV

I looked up as Y/N walked into the shack. I instantly smiled when she looked over at me.

"Morning, Matt."

"Morning, Y/N," I said, not sounding as relaxed as she did. "How was your weekend?"

"Not too bad," she shrugged. "Mainly just sat at home and ran a few errands. What about you?"

"I did absolutely nothing." I cringed when that sounded phony.

"Sometimes nothing is good," she winked. She sent me a smile before walking into the women's locker room.

"That was just sad."

I sighed as Mitch walked out of his office and sat on the corner of my desk.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, awkwardly clearing my throat.

He sent me a look before rolling his eyes. "You have a thing for Y/N."

"What? I don't. . . I wasn't. . ."

"Come on, man," he scoffed. "You have had a thing for Y/N since your first day. I'm pretty sure she distracted you during your training."

"My training?" It was my turn to scoff. "You mean that useless competition you made me compete in?"

He just smirked as he stood up and patted me on the back. I rolled my eyes and started gathering what I needed for my shift. Y/N and I have been put on the same shift since my second week. A part of me thinks Mitch did that on purpose just to torment me.

I looked up right as Y/N walked out of the locker room in her swimsuit. I couldn't stop watching her as she pulled her hair up effortlessly in a perfect ponytail. When I finally looked away from her, I saw Mitch smirking at me.

"You ready to save some lives, Brody?" She asked as I looked back over at her.

"Just call me Superman."

I heard Mitch groan, but I didn't focus on him because Y/N laughed. "Alright, Superman," she teased. "But no jumping off the boardwalk. I'm not diving in after you."

Without warning, Y/N grabbed the keys to the four-wheeler and tossed them to me. She sent me a wink as she walked outside. I cleared my throat and ignored Mitch's smirk as I slipped off my hoodie and followed Y/N outside.

My breath got caught in my throat as I glanced over and saw Y/N bend down to unhook the four-wheeler from the gas tank. I cleared my throat and jogged down the steps.

"You aren't taking the other one?" I asked when she didn't go to the four-wheeler she usually drives.

"Nope," she sighed. "Ronnie didn't plug it in after his shift last night, so I'm hitching a ride with you."

I smiled as I got on the four-wheeler and turned it on. I bit my lip when I felt Y/N grab my shoulders for stability as she got on behind me. I tried to ignore the chaos in my stomach as she straddled me and wrapped her arms around my waist.

"You ready, Superman?"

"Ready, Lois Lane."

I waited eagerly for her reaction. I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding when she laughed.

"I like that," she chuckled. "Partners in crime: Superman and Lois Lane."

                              * * * * *

Y/N continued to call me Superman and I continued to call her Lois Lane all week. Whenever we did in front of Mitch, he sent me a knowing smirk. Friday, I walked into the shack and overheard a conversation I wish I hadn't.

"Where is he taking you?" Summer asked Y/N.

"Well, we're meeting here and then getting dinner," Y/N explained. "He wants to walk down the boardwalk and get to know each other better.

I jumped when the girls all squealed. Ronnie walked in, almost bumping into me because I hadn't moved.

"What's going on?" He laughed as he nodded towards the girls.

"I don't know," I mumbled.

"Y/N is going on a date after work," Mitch said as he walked by us. He sent me a look before walking over to the girls.

"As long as he keeps his hands to himself," he jokingly warned, "I won't have a problem. I'll hunt him down and kick his ass."

"I'll be fine," Y/N chuckled. "I can handle myself."

"I know you can," Mitch winked. He sent me a teasing look before walking to his office. I waited until everybody had headed to their shift before walking over to Y/N.

"So umm. . . A date, huh?" I asked.

"Yeah," she chuckled. "Summer and CJ talked me into joining this dating app. I matched with this guy and we've been sorta talking. I don't know. He asked me out and. . . We'll see."

"That's. . . Cool," I said, not even sounding convincing to myself.

"Matt," she smiled. "I'll be fine, okay? It's just a date."

"With a stranger," I mumbled.

"Hey," she said, gently grabbing my arm. "I'll be fine. If anything happens. . ."

"You call me and I will come kick his ass," I said before I could stop myself.

"Matt," she giggled. "I'll be fine. Okay? I can handle myself."

"I know," I sighed. "I just. . ."

I cleared my throat when I didn't finish my sentence. She smiled as she pulled me into her chest and wrapped her arms around me. It took me a second before I wrapped my arms around her waist.

"I'll be fine," she reassured. "And if I do need help, I know who to call."

                              * * * * *

After work, I found myself on edge. I kept checking the clock on the wall, my stomach in knots the closer it got to 6. Y/N's date was supposed to meet her here at 6 and then take her to dinner.

My breath got caught in my throat when Y/N walked out of the locker room. She was wearing a short dress and her hair was flowing down her shoulders. I bit my lip when I noticed she put makeup on.

"So?" She asked, smoothing out her dress. "How do I look? Do you think he'll like it?"

"If he doesn't, he's an idiot."

"Thanks, Matt," she said, her voice changing slightly.

Y/N sighed and walked over to the couch, sitting on the armrest. As she played with the seam of her dress, I noticed her hands were shaking. I walked over and sat on the couch next to her.

"You okay?" I asked. When she didn't stop playing with her dress, I reached over and grabbed her hand.

"Y/N," I said softly.

"I hate that I agreed to this," she mumbled.

"Then don't go."

I cleared my throat when she looked up at me. I opened and closed my mouth, struggling to find a way to ease the tension.

"You don't have to go on a date with a stranger, Y/N. If you aren't comfortable with online dating then why did you agree to it?"

"I don't know," she sighed. I looked up and blushed when I noticed her still holding my hand. I forced myself to refocus when she kept continued, "The girls were so excited about it and I guess I just got swept up in it all."

"Well," I hesitated, trying to gather the courage. "If you want a way out, you could say you forgot you had plans with a coworker. Then maybe you and I could. . ."

I was cut off when Summer, CJ, and Stephanie came running into the shack, giggling and excitedly complimenting her. I jumped up and quickly went to my desk. I glanced back over at her to see her already looking at me, sending me an apologetic shrug. I opened my mouth but quickly shut it. I sighed as I headed into the locker room to get my stuff.

After stalling for ten minutes, I finally headed out to my motorcycle. As I left the shack, I looked up and froze. I watched as Y/N greeted a guy. I clenched my fists when he touched her arm.

"Wanna follow them?"

I jumped at the sudden voice. I looked over my shoulder to see Mitch locking the shack, his eyes on Y/N and her date.

"You serious?"

"Hell yeah," he chuckled. "Let's go."

                              * * * * *

Mitch and I followed Y/N throughout her date. We followed them to the beachfront restaurant. We followed them to the ice cream parlor. And we followed them as they walked down the boardwalk. We were currently hiding behind a cement slab as Y/N and her date stopped on the boardwalk. They sat on a bench and continued talking.

Suddenly, Y/N looked over her shoulder, straight at us. We quickly ducked, holding our breath in hopes that she didn't see us. When we thought the coast was clear, we slowly sat back up. We jumped when Y/N was right in front of us.

"Hey, Y/N," Mitch said, slightly stuttering. "How's your night going?"

"Why are you guys following me?"

"What makes you think we're following you?" I tried to act innocent.

She sighed as she crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to one foot. Mitch cleared his throat as we stood up.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he sighed. "We wanted to make sure he didn't do anything we didn't like. We were just trying to watch your back."

"I appreciate your concern," she chuckled. "Thank you for worrying, but I'm fine. In fact. . ."

She looked over her shoulder, a small sigh leaving her lips. When she looked back at us, she had an odd look on her face.

"The date's over."

"Really?" I asked, failing to not sound as relieved as I actually was.

"Was it because of us?" Mitch asked.

"No," she sighed. "The date ending before 8 had nothing to do with you two. It was very clear that the only thing he wanted was to hook up."

"I'm sorry, kiddo. Guys suck." Mitch sighed. Y/N laughed as she slightly shook her head. "Sorry again that we followed you. I'll see you Monday?"

"See you Monday," Y/N smiled. We watched as Mitch turned on his heel and left. When Y/N turned towards me, I scratched the back of my neck.

"So," she said, holding in a laugh, "I understand why Mitch followed me, but why did you?"

"Well," I said as I reached up and nervously scratched the back of my head.

"Let me present a hypothetical for you," she smirked, "then you can tell me whether or not it's accurate."

"Okay," I stuttered.

"Imagine two coworkers who have worked together for quite some time," she started to explain. "As they spend more time together, something changes. One friend gets asked out on a date and the other friend is nervous. Now he might be nervous because he's protective of his friend, but he could also be nervous because he's possessive of her. Maybe it's more than that. Maybe he has feelings for this friend?"

"Well. . . I thought. . . I wasn't sure. . ."

Y/N cut off my stuttering by standing on her toes and pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. As soon as she pulled away, that spot on my face burned. She set me a knowing look as she took a few steps back.

"Whenever he is ready and has the balls to ask out his "friend", I'm sure she'll say yes."

[andguesswhat]

The fool on the hill - Chapter 7

Yeah, well… Probably not what you’ve expected…  But for me this is them as well…

The Clown and the Circus Bear

*

So everything had been perfect. 

Owen had felt genuinely happy. He thought Tom was fucking adorable, he wanted to kiss him, wanted to fuck him. 

The moment on the hill with him was definitely something he would always cherish, always remember. This deep feeling of affection combined with this immense tension, the thrill, this feeling that yes, the other felt the same, wanted the same…

And as fucking frustrating as it was that they were interrupted and didn’t kiss, he had loved that, too. It was like being in a cheesy movie where the tension was ramped up yet again with a cheap director’s trick.

He took a deep breath. 

But now this. 

It had been like this before. 

Sometimes when he was genuinely happy, he would suddenly get this fear of losing everything. Like he wasn’t allowed to be this happy. So the happier he got, the more likely he was to crash. 

And this morning he had crashed, and crashed hard. 

A dark cloud of thick cotton already surrounded him, numbing and suffocating him. And there was nothing he could do about it. 

He had managed to get through the day and pretend everything was fine. But now he was on set at this birthday party of Natasha's and he felt completely out of place, like he didn’t belong here. Everyone around him was laughing too loud, talking too loud and he just wanted to get away from it all. 

Of course, after yesterday on the hill, everything was pointing towards him and Tom kissing tonight. Because why not. They should have fun at this party and then at some point.... kiss... right?

And it was that very expectation that caused Owen to crash. 

The excitement that he had felt yesterday was gone. Instead there was this fear of somehow not meeting the expectations, of doing something wrong that would destroy everything.

He hated it. 

Knowing that this was just some kind of sick mechanism in his head and he wasn’t able to do anything about it. He hated feeling like shit when this happened, but he bit his tongue and just smiled through the pain.

He saw Tom talking to people, saw him searching for eye contact with him, beaming at him, winking at him but Owen avoided him, always went somewhere else, far away from him. He felt a twinge in his chest at each smile sent his way and he finally couldn't do it anymore, so he disappeared behind some backdrops and got to the areas that were only illuminated with emergency lights. 

He had always loved that. Wandering through abandoned, dimly lit sets. He loved the atmosphere it created. But now he was just enjoying the darkness and a break away from all these laughing people. 

With a big sigh he sat down on the steps in the TVA interrogation room, resting his arms on his drawn knees, and closed his eyes. 

Why the fuck…!

He didn’t want this. 

He just wanted to be happy. 

He had been happy. 

So what was wrong with him?

Why had he to be like that?

He really hated himself. 

He wanted to drown this feeling in alcohol but he couldn’t risk falling even deeper.  

To think about his kids in these situations sometimes helped. Sometimes it made it worse, made him think he was the worst dad of all. 

Since he had come to Atlanta to work on `Loki´ everything had been so good this far. 

Even his current sleeping problems had stopped. He had felt calm. Content. Confident. 

Meeting Tom was one of the best things that had happened to him lately. He felt good in his presence. Safe. It was something he hadn’t expected. So he had cherished the time he had spent with Tom on and off set as something really special. 

And working on `Loki´ had been a blessing, too. The script was crap if he was honest. But due to that they had so much fun, so much freedom to try things out, to improvise, to just see what they came up with and it gave him the urge to write again. If it was for him, he would already do prequels, sequels and spin-offs with Mobius. He just loved it. He loved playing Mobius.

It really had done him so damn good. 

Owen contorted his face. 

So why?

Just why the fuck had it to be like this?

He heard someone coming. 

Saw Tom looking for him…  

With a bottle of beer in his hand. With a concerned look on his face.

“Hey…” 

With his fucking soft voice that Owen loved so much. 

“Everything alright? I don’t… I don’t want to bother you when you want to be alone. I was just… worried.” 

Being as sweet and caring and polite as always.

And it hurt Owen deep down in his chest. 

“No.. no, you don’t. I just… “ He didn’t know what to say.  

He just knew that he didn’t want Tom to leave.

“Can I sit down?” Tom asked carefully. 

Yes, please. “Sure.”

So Tom sat down next to him, looking at him with big questioning eyes. 

Yeah.. he should probably explain something. 

“I’m sorry… Tom.” Owen began. “I…”

He hated it. “I’m a mess...”

But Tom just looked at him compassionately and waited, so Owen continued. 

“I… have problems… sometimes.. mental problems… So I get sad sometimes… when I’m supposed to be… happy… when I am happy… It is some kind of dysfunction in my head. Like.. Well, like the happy clown gets sad…”

He sighed.

“And I’m really sorry… Because I guess.. you have expected something else… tonight… But I’m not good for you… I guess, I’m not good for anybody when I’m like this…” 

Tom squinted his eyes and pressed his lips together as if he was disagreeing but trying not to say anything. So Owen emphasized his point.

“I just can’t… give you what you want. I wish I could. But I just can’t.” 

He shook his head and looked down at the floor because he just didn’t know why he actually couldn’t.  

“I know this is hard to understand…” He knew how fucking stupid this all sounded. Why don’t you just do it if you want to? What’s the problem? They always say… 

He closed his eyes, feeling ashamed of himself.

“I do understand…” he heard Tom say softly.

Owen lifted his head to look at him. He was looking right back at him, with so much compassion in his eyes, and he continued speaking. Quietly. 

“Well, I don’t know… I mean everybody feels different, everybody has different… problems.. challenges… I don’t get sad when I’m happy.. But I do know what the sad side of a clown feels like… or actually more the sad side of a circus bear… which I am… Or was… I don’t know…”

Owen had to laugh a little at that. “Tom, the circus bear… Sounds like a cute children’s book.”

Tom smiled. “Yeah… .  I don’t know. Maybe it’s some kind of ADHD,” he shrugged his shoulders, “… but I’ve always done what people wanted me to do. And people wanted me to do really stupid things… . And I just did them. I loved the attention, I loved being liked… and to be loved… so I did more and more without really knowing why… And it really took me a long time to realize that…" he looked at the ceiling lost in thoughts, "I have worked constantly for 6 years in a row… I’ve sort of done every movie they offered me.. I have no idea how many interviews I gave during that time… how many stupid things I did… and all that just to not sit in that bear cage after the show…. And feel lonely and redundant…”

Owen felt his heart ache hearing all this. He didn't dare to breathe, didn't want to break this fragile bubble that they had somehow built here.

“And at some point I really lost it, I got so tired of it all… But you’re stuck in this wheel … " Tom’s hand made a circle," and you don’t know how to get out of it… I didn’t know who I am or what I wanted…” he sighed and nibbled at the label of his bottle. “I think I’m better now. Know how to take all this. But this doesn’t make me immune, you know. It will always be there…”

He took a deep breath, straightening up his back and looking directly at Owen.

“I’m sorry… I don’t want to be whining here.. I just want you to know that I know how it feels to be sad… when from the outside looking in... it seems that you don’t have any reason to.” 

Owen was deeply touched.

“Thank you…” he whispered. “Thank you for telling me…”

Tom gave him a reassuring look.

And then he got this Hang-on-I-have-to-think-about-something look on his face. 

Owen loved thinking-Tom. 

Watching Tom think always made Owen feel like a little kid at Christmas that couldn’t wait to see what was in the box. A quote? An adorable metaphor? 

“So… If you’re unhappy because you were happy…” Tom began. 

And Owen immediately loved how Tom had changed his voice to a more chatty and juvenile tone. 

“It’s sounds quite awful when I have to think that I am the one making you unhappy, so I’m going to reverse it: You being unhappy … does it mean that you like me… ” he gave Owen a challenging look. “…a little more… than a little?” 

Owen laughed. He shrugged his shoulders mockingly and showed a little space between his thumb and his index finger. “Yeah.. maybe a little more.”

But Tom didn’t seem to mind the mockery because he looked at Owen severely and said -  in his soft voice again -, “I can wait then.”

Owen didn’t know what to feel, he smiled a small smile but it came from deep in his heart and he hoped Tom would notice. 

“Thank you.”

Somehow he wished Tom would just grab him and kiss him. 

But it wouldn’t be Tom if he crossed the line. It wouldn’t be Tom if he didn’t respect him and his condition. 

And as much as Owen wished he would cross it, it showed him two things. 

One, that Tom was even more damn lovable. 

And two, that he himself was the one who needed to free himself out of there. Nobody else could. 

But he was determined to do it.  

He had to get better soon, if for no other reason than he could finally kiss Tom. His favorite Brit with his nonexistent lips. 

And now, now he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Tom. Held him close. And he was fucking glad that he could do it.  

“I’m sorry…” he whispered. 

“Don’t feel bad about it…,” Tom whispered back. “I want you to know that I don’t expect anything... And just as you are, you are good for me.” 

Tom’s word were soothing, his voice was soothing, Tom was soothing. Like he had been from the start.

“Thank you,” Owen said again and because he couldn’t resist, he added, “my little circus bear.”

Tom snorted. “Don’t! Just don’t!”

Owen grinned. “Yeah, I thought you are more of a pussycat anyway.”

And even he knew it would take some time before he felt right again, before he felt carefree again, he was fucking glad. 

That Tom had somehow turned this fucking sad situation in something lighter and beautiful. 

And that Tom had shown him a spark at the end of a hopefully not so long tunnel.

*

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Randall “Pink” Floyd

(Excuse the shit gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(Fun fact: I had no idea Jason London had a twin and literally just found that out)

- You and Pink met for the first time after you missed your bus. He’d just finished talking with his friends and was heading out to his car when he noticed you stressing over the payphone, trying to fish quarters out of your bag so that you could possibly get a friend to pick you up.

- You were just about ready to walk home when he tapped you on the shoulder and asked if you were alright. Sighing, you gave him a quick rundown and he immediately offered to give you a ride. You were a tad hesitant, mostly because you didn’t want to be a bother to someone you barely knew but he insisted, telling you that it was no problem.

- A wave of relief washed over you and you gratefully thanked him, following him as he led you to his car. To be clear, you did know of him. You vaguely recalled your friends telling you about him and how nice he was, and of course you’d seen a few of his football games so it wasn’t like you were just hopping into a total strangers car.

- The thing about Pink is that he’s pretty much friends with everybody. No matter who you are, where you come from, or what clique you’re in; he’s down to chat and he’s pretty damn good at it. You’d expected at least a little discomfort and awkwardness during your car ride but there really wasn’t any. He was as sweet as could be and you found yourself actually really enjoying the conversation he’d started.

- Once you arrived at your house, you thanked him profusely to which he only laughed and assured you that it was no trouble at all. Before he left, he gave you a smile and said he’d see you around school. As he pulled away, you realized that you might have unwillingly developed a crush on the boy. ...Little did you know he felt the same.

- When you went to school the next day you hadn’t really expected anything to happen. You figured that he’d given you a ride and that would be that but as you were putting your things in your locker you felt a familiar tap on your shoulder. You turned a bit and there he was, standing behind you with a smile that made you melt.

- He greeted you and asked if he could walk you to class to which you obviously agreed. This sort of thing continued on for nearly a week before he stopped you outside of your classroom and asked if you’d like to come hang out with him and his friends after school. You weren’t about to pass up an offer made by a boy you were really starting to crush on so you said yes. He smiled and told you he’d meet you by your locker after the final bell.

- You spent the entire day anticipating the moment school let out. The instant the bell rang it took everything you had in you not to shoot out of your seat and run down the halls. You took a second to relax, checking yourself over before you started the short trip to your locker.

- By the time you made it there, Pink was already leaned against the lockers beside yours waiting for you. You got your things and the two of you headed out to his car, driving over to where his friends were meeting.

- Once you got there, he introduced you to everyone and excused himself to talk with the guys for a few minutes. You spoke to some of the girls in your grade before he came over and stole you away, leading you to a more secluded area where the two of you could chat in private.

- Prior to this, you only ever really had short conversations so you were more than happy to finally start getting to know each other better. As the two of you sat down, he jokingly proposed that you play twenty questions. You responded “ask me anything” and so the game began.

- For a while, you were both just asking whatever came to mind: what’s your favorite color, favorite food, favorite subject, favorite band, etc. Then you got to the good stuff, the questions that prompted jokes and stories which had you laughing till you nearly cried. It was after one of these stories that he got to ask the question he’d been saving all week.

“When’s the last time someone took you out for dinner?”

“Hmmm,” you laughed, tapping your chin as you pretended to think. “I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

“How about tonight?” You nearly choked on your drink.

“Tonight?” You questioned, wanting to make sure he was saying what you thought he was saying.

“Or now or whenever....” he added, shrugging his shoulders as he attempted to appear nonchalant.

“Yeah, sure. I’d really like that.”

A smile spread across his face as you agreed. “Great,” he told you. “So I’ll pick you up at six?”

- Later that day, he took you to the drive-in and bought you that dinner he’d promised. The two of you went bowling afterwards and you ended the night with a long kiss in the parking lot.

- After a few more dates the two of you became official and you were both as happy as could be.

- There’s not a ton of pda in your relationship but he makes sure everyone knows you’re together. 

- Hanging out on the moon tower. 

- He’s always ready to defend you when things suddenly go south. 

- He’s constantly subtly looking out for you. He always has you walk in front of him so he knows where you are, asks a bunch of people if they’ve seen you when you disappear somewhere, walks on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street, etc.

- It’s the little things that show you he cares. 

- He can cuddle any which way you want but he’s a pretty big fan of laying his head on your chest while you thread your fingers through his hair. He’s a big baby but you’re the only one allowed to know that.

- When you want to be cuddled he pulls you into his side and traces patterns down your hips and thighs. 

- Goodbye kisses. 

- Handholding.

- Handshakes. 

- Sitting on the back of his car with him.

- Getting him to think more rationally and stop overreacting about the sign up sheet or whatever else is bothering him. 

- Inside jokes.

- Playing with his necklace.

- Constantly swapping cars throughout the night. 

- It was the 70′s, everybody smoked weed, and he has a pretty good dealer so if you want to try a little bit of the devils grass then he’s down to supply you with it. 

- Concert dates.

- Late night cruising.

- Sometimes he’ll stumble through your window late at night or really early in the morning, a little drunk and wanting to cuddle... or fuck. 

- Early, early morning drives where the two of you are still a little buzzed but also tired. 

- Cheering him on at his games even though he isn’t fond of playing. 

- Hanging out on the football field. 

- Ruffling his hair.

- Doing a lot of stupid, reckless shit together. 

- Making out a lot. 

- He’s a horny boy, especially when drunk, so be prepared to be felt up every once and a while, or at least for him to attempt to. 

- Let’s not forget that Pink cheated in his girlfriend, alright? Scummy move, obviously, but I feel like their relationship wasn’t the greatest to begin with? Like he really did not seem into her at all 90% of the time and she seemed like she knew exactly what was up whenever he was doing something. So I feel like under different circumstances he wouldn’t cheat on his girlfriend. 

- He flirts and teases you a lot. He loves getting you all shy and flustered. 

- Hearing about all the crazy shit him and his friends get up to, he just scratches the back of his neck and shoots you shy smiles when you look over at him.

- Laying your head in his lap. 

- Sitting on his lap, he sits really far back in his seat in general so you’re always able to gently plop yourself down without any fuss. 

- Since Pink is a bit of an overreacter I can imagine he gets quite jealous. When he does, he doesn’t say anything but he noticeably watches you and the guy until you come over to him. 

- When you’re fighting, he gets super passive aggressive and annoying so you tend to just sigh and give up after a while. Give him some time  to himself and hope for the best, that’s all I can say. 

- He really can’t stand seeing you cry. He hates when you’re upset, he always gets super uncomfortable and just tries his best to cheer you up as quickly as possible. 

- Whenever you have a test, he always tells you not to worry and that you’ll do great. He likes being able to calm you down and be the reason you feel better. 

- Constantly being introduced to new people since he makes friends every other minute. 

- Hanging out at the emporium.

- Going to parties with him. 

- Double dates with Michelle and Pickford. 

- He has a habit of holding/pulling you by the belt/belt loops. 

- Watching him and Dons little comedy routines. 

- Being gently rough with each other, like he’ll “tackle” you down and start making out with you or you’ll slap each others hands away to keep each other from something. 

- Letting him rant when he needs to, even if you think what he’s getting upset over is a little silly. 

- Spending entire nights together. 

- Jamming out to rock albums and going to the record store together. 

- Playing pool and Foosball together. 

- He’s really good at charming your parents and other relatives. Leave it to him, he’ll make them fall in love with him in the span of a barbecue. 

- He loves when you gently touch him. Brushing something off his cheek, pulling something from his hair, things like that. He has and will always melt when you do. 

- Letting him copy off your homework and notes when he ditches class. 

- He says “I love you” sparingly so it always means a lot when he does say it. 

- You don’t really talk about the future but he’s convinced it’s going to be much better than high school... maybe because you’ll be married?

[jentrevellan]

I'm so happy to finally share my fic for @dasmutquisition! I had so much fun with this one, it's unreal. I hope you enjoyed @sumiIong

Rating: Explicit

Category: F/M

Fandoms: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins

Relationship: Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age)

Characters: Alistair (Dragon Age), Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Teagan Guerrin

Additional Tags: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Banter, Cuddling & Snuggling, Happy Ending, Making Love, trapped together (sort of), strong woman, anxious Alistair, generic Cousland, King Alistair and Queen Cousland, newlyweds, Morning Sex, D in the V, Porn With Plot, Dorks in Love

Language: English

Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition

Summary: Alistair and the Warden spend the first night not only as husband and wife but as King and Queen.

Notes: Thank you @curiousthimble for being my beta!

Read on Ao3

Doin' the Fondue

The great hall in Denerim Castle was loud and filled to the rafters with people. Nobles, elves, dwarves and peasants alike were squeezed in, all clamouring to see the newly married couple. Up on the dais, overlooking the crowd that was slowly getting rowdier and rowdier with the ale and wine that continued to flow, Alistair - now King Alistair Theirin of Ferelden - slouched in his throne and took a gulp of wine.

He was terrified.

Oh, the ceremony had been a delight, and he had adored proclaiming his love in front of the Maker and the witnesses in the Chantry. But as soon as he had stepped into the hall for their wedding feast, his gut started churning. Because he knew what must come next after the merriment had ended.

He glanced at his wife beside him. His wife! Despite his anxiety, he couldn’t help but grin like a fool at the thought of his Grey Warden companion, Lady Cousland, now being his wife. It didn’t seem wholly real. Indeed, most of his life the past year hadn’t seemed real. So much had changed, and now he was married.

Alistair took another sip of wine from his goblet and his new wife glanced at him, a small frown on her brow. She already knows me so well, he thought. No one else would be able to tell that anything was amiss, but she had always seen straight through him and knew when even the smallest thing was bothering him. One of the many traits he loved about her. Although it did mean that it was impossible to keep any sort of secret from her. Even the good kind of secrets.

As he picked at his food, his new wife and Queen accepted many gracious gifts from guests. All curtsied or bowed and she was most eloquent in her response. Truly, she was more prepared for this life as a monarch than him. Her noble upbringing was a far cry from how he was raised. But wherever his trepidation lay about ruling, he knew that with this woman beside him as his Queen, that he could do anything.

She laughed heartily at a joke Teagan was telling her, and he watched as she wiped away a tear. Alistair glowered at his uncle and reached out for his wife’s hand. She turned to him, a wide smile on her face, her cheeks flushed and her lips rosy from the wine.

“Everything alright?” she asked.

He nodded his head to Teagan. “Just wondering what was so funny…?”

She blushed prettily, and a jealous hand gripped his gut. He would not easily forget his uncle’s flirtations when he had first met them in Redcliffe, and ever since, a fit of strange jealousy and need to claim her as he always came about when he was in the presence of both her and Tegan.

Waving a jewelled hand, she shook her head. “It was nothing. Rather crude, actually, so I told him off for lowering the tone of our conversation at our wedding feast,” she replied, taking a sip of wine. “Now what’s the matter with you?”

“Me?” he repeated. “Nothing. Nothing is the matter with me at all. Absolutely nought.”

“Alistair,” she said seriously, leaning in close. Her tone made him want to listen, but her golden gown with its tight bodice had pressed her breasts pleasantly together and were well within his eye line that he couldn’t help but glance down. A treacherous blaze of desire coursed through him, and with her puckered lips, her brow furrowed in concern, he wanted nothing more than to crush her to him and -

A chill went through him. He wanted her, oh yes, most desperately, but Tegan caught his eye and winked, and a shudder of repulsion went through him as he turned his head to see half of the court watching their interaction. He pulled away from his wife abruptly and reached for his goblet of wine, again and took a huge mouthful.

Ever the gracious lady, his wife smiled faintly and pretended that nothing had happened. But the look she quietly gave him as he peered at her over the rim of his goblet made his gut clench with guilt. There was a flash of hurt in her eyes, and he felt rotten about being the cause.

The dinner continued and as the servants were generous with topping up his wine, Alistair kept emptying his goblet. His wife, on the other hand, declined and stuck to watery lemonade and with dread, he realised that she was not drinking the same as him because it was expected that she needed to stay sober to conceive.

It was like a weight was pressing down on his chest, and he struggled to breathe, and it was getting worse as the evening wore on. Soon he stopped eating and drinking and just watched everybody that approached the dais to offer their congratulations or present gifts to the newlyweds. One item that was given to the new Queen was a selection of herbs which, as the kindly elderly noble had explained “would help the womb quicken”. Alistair had almost retched at her words, and instead began a small coughing fit, which required his wife to smack him firmly on the back a few times harder than she would’ve done normally.

At one point, a small child approached, dressed in a simple cotton tunic, as white as a cloud. Her hair was braided down her back and entwined with flowers. She stood before the queen who rose from her throne and leant over the table to adjust a flower in the girl’s hair. Alistair watched as his wife’s face lit up with warmth as she listened and spoke to the child. He wanted to give that to her. But… but…

“Let us bed them!” Tegan suddenly announced, and there was a scramble as the court got to their feet hurriedly, to be one of the select few to follow them to their chambers. The women reached the queen and she shot Alistair one swift look of alarm before resigning herself to their insistent tugs as they all but pushed her out of the room. Alistair followed with a group of noblemen, including his uncle.

“I bet you’re looking forward to this, m'boy,” Tegan grinned, falling into step beside Alistair, as they made their way through the halls of the castle.

“I don't know what you mean,” he replied flatly, his face feeling warm not just from the wine.

Tegan clapped him on the back. “You are one lucky man, my boy,” he said with a sigh, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ve never seen you so quiet in all the time I’ve known you. Your mind has been elsewhere this evening - and I’m not the only one to notice.”

Dread tugged at him as he climbed the stairs. “Yes, you’re right and I’m sorry, but-”

“Sorry!” Tegan repeated with a snort. “You’ve no need to be sorry. Most men are as quiet as a mouse in anticipation of their wedding night. And one can’t certainly blame you: your wife is simply lovely.”

“Yes, thank you, Tegan,” Alistair ground out, shrugging his shoulder lose of his grip. But rather than be offended, the man laughed and Alistair clenched his fists. Never before had he been so tempted to knock his uncle around the head.

They arrived at his chamber door and inside more nobles awaited eagerly. The king’s bed had been arranged neatly, but there was no expectation for him to sleep there tonight. Instead, he eyed the connecting door where he knew his wife would be waiting for him, surrounded by the noblewomen.

“Are you going to leave?” he asked, looking around the room, but the men just laughed, and chatted, some making obscene gestures. He grimaced, hating the sheer manliness in the room. His manservant came forward to help him undress from his finery and removed his crown. Once he had been disrobed save for his smalls, he threw on his white cotton nightshirt and ran his hands through his hair, wiping the sweat from his brow.

There was a faint knock at the connecting door, and one of the servants hurried forward and exchanged whispers with the servant on the other side. Alistair paced anxiously and took a very keen interest in a loose thread on the sleeve of his shirt. The men around him were talking about absolute filth, and he squeezed his eye tight shut, in the vain hope that his ears would squeeze shut too.

Finally, the connecting door swung open and the servant stood aside. Alistair was rooted to the spot, fear coursing through him. Are these people… going to watch ? He thought with horror.

He was quite content with where he was until Tegan elbowed him in the ribs. “Nervous?” he said with a wink.

“Yes. No! I mean, no !” he said hurriedly, his face burning.

“There’s nothing to be scared about. She’s going to be a wonderful wife to you in so many ways…”

“Shut up,” Alistair groaned, rubbing his hand down his face. Honestly, he was this close to hurling Tegan out the window.

But before he could entertain that thought further, the men in his room were pressing him through the door and - oh Maker no - were also following him. He entered the queen's bed-chamber to find a gaggle of ladies with rosy cheeks flutter their lashes and lick their lips seductively at the men. But Alistair was anything but aroused when he finally turned to the large, four-poster bed, to see his wife and queen.

She was a perfect painting of innocence and virginity in crisp white sheets with a matching white nightdress. Her hair had been unbound and combed neatly and she sat as still as a statue, her back and posture absolutely perfect for a queen. The covers were pulled up to her lap, and her hands rested delicately entwined: her sparkling wedding ring the only jewellery that remained.

He refused to meet her eyes as he slowly walked around to the other side of the bed. He pulled the covers down amidst the chatting of the court and when he finally sat beside her, a good arms-length away from her, the court finally - finally - turned to leave. Several clapped, the women exchanged knowing looks with the queen, who smiled politely in return, and the men, now incredibly drunk, ambled from the room, wishing Alastair luck and reminding him of how lucky he was.

Finally, blessedly, the last person left the room and closed the door with a gentle click .

☆☆☆☆☆

To the new queen’s dismay, the first thing her new husband did as soon as the door had shut, was leap out of the bed as if he had been scalded. She frowned as he strode towards the door, and for an awful moment, she thought he was going to leave. But no: he reached to a small side table and found a key and locked the big oak door to her chambers, followed by locking the conjoining door from the king’s bedroom.

Still not saying anything, Alistar strode around the room, pulling open curtains and wardrobes, trunks and cabinets.

“What in the world are you doing?” she finally asked, her patience running thin. The man had barely spoken to her since their vows in the Chantry in the morning, and now he was examining every nook and cranny of her chambers?

He paused by her bookshelf and flicked her a glance over his shoulder. “Checking,” he replied, before shifting a few books.

“Whatever for?”

He sighed in exasperation. “To make sure that we are alone! Andraste’s arse, I thought they were going to stay at one point and watch to make sure we… we… erm…” he coughed and busied himself by peering under a chaise lounge.

She got out of bed and dropped to her hands and knees and looked under the bed. Thankfully, there was no one there, but she had to admit that the same fear had crossed her mind. Even though she knew that wasn’t the common practice, sometimes nobility did take things a bit too literally…

“We’re safe,” she sighed, placing her hands on her hips.”There’s no spy, no peephole, no nothing but us.”

Alistair finally stopped his fidgeting and turned to her from across the room. For the first time in a long time, they were utterly alone. Normally, they would’ve fallen into each other’s arms by now, but something was stopping her, and she could tell that something was also stopping him. They stood on opposite sides of her room, the bed imposing and glaring at them, whilst the distance between them felt as vast a chasm. And that was something neither of them had experienced before.

“Everything is different now, isn’t it?” she said quietly, looking down at her hands clasped before her.

Alistair also seemed to be studying his fingernails. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

She played with the hem of her pure white night-dress and frowned. Conversation with her now-husband had never been this stilted. So she switched tactic to one he would hopefully relax with: humour.

“You know, for a good ten minutes, I honestly thought they were all going to stay and watch,” she said with a wry smile. She knew they wouldn't - being brought up as a noble lady had earnt her some education in these things - but Alistair needed not to know that. For it worked:

“Maker! You did too?” he exclaimed, letting out a bark of laughter. “I didn’t think they would, but I began to doubt myself.”

She took a step towards him. “Hence your paranoia about spies?”

He nodded. “Yes, hence the… paranoia ,” he rolled his eyes at her choice of words, but there was a smirk on his lips, which made her heart soar.

The man she knew was peeking through, so she took another step closer. “It’s an archaic tradition anyway,” she said. “I know for a fact that they do not practice it in Orlais.”

Alistair snorted. “Perhaps the only redeeming factor of the Orlesians.”

“Hmm, that and the cheese,” she smiled and finally, finally , her new husband met her eyes.

They both burst into laughter and she saw his shoulders sag. She bit her lip and placed a hand on his cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you don't want to,” she said earnestly.

His face reddened. “But I do! I do want to! With you, that is! I just… it’s just…” he trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut as he sought out the right words.

“The pressure of it all?” she supplied.

“Yes!” he gasped, relieved. “To know that we cannot come together unless it’s for a purpose. That purpose,” he mumbled, pointing to her stomach.

He was going inside himself again, so she took his hands in hers and gave a gentle squeeze. “Think of it this way… it’s for the good of the country that you fuck me senseless any time of day and night.”

Alistair spluttered at her bluntness but she just laughed as she slipped her hands from his and moved past him. There was a small table laden with food - to help keep up their energy for their excursions, no doubt - so she helped herself to a goblet of wine and poured one for her new husband. “You’re probably one of the only men in the world who can use that excuse,” she smiled, popping a grape in her mouth.

“You…” he grinned, walking over and taking the other goblet from her hand. “You are a minx.”

She pretended to be shocked. “You’ve only just realised? And here I thought you only married me because you knew I was.”

He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled him to her, kissing the top of her head. “One of many, many many reasons,” he replied.

They stood content in silence, their thoughts elsewhere when she finally spoke again. “I meant what I said. We don’t have to do anything we’re expected to do tonight.”

He gulped but nodded. “I… I know. And I appreciate that, but please don’t think it’s because I don’t want... need you,” he said quietly, his grip on her tightening.

“It’s not like we’ve not done it before,” she said, taking another sip of wine. “Even if this gown pretends to be evidence to the contrary.”

“Yes, and we have done it, many, many times…”

“And we will many more,” she confirmed, popping another grape in her mouth, the sweetness washing over her tongue. She turned to him: “but not tonight.”

“Thank the Maker I married you,” he murmured, downing the rest of his wine.

“But I do have a wicked idea…”

He glanced at her, eyebrows raised.

“We should take all of this food and eat it… in bed.”

He laughed, so genuine and delightful that her gut warmed pleasantly. Suddenly, in one swift motion, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, his other hand grabbing the cheese board and marched over to the bed. He threw her down, and she tried to not be too aroused by the action, but her pert nipples through her night-dress gave her away. Determined to make sure Alistair was as happy as could be, she reached forward and pulled him onto the bed and instead of kissing him, grabbed a handful of cheese and squashed it into his mouth.

The King of Ferelden snorted with laughter as he tried to eat the cheese, before doing the same back at his new queen. He pecked her on the nose and rose to collect more food and wine, and soon they were sitting leaning against the headboard, a delectable spread of food between them. And they gorged.

☆☆☆☆☆

The sun peered through the lattice windows of the queen’s chamber. The light was white and bright and brought Alistair blinking out of his deep slumber, momentarily confused at his location. He looked up at the canopy above him and duly noted the olive green drapes of the Queen’s bed. He’d never slept in here and was momentarily disoriented until he remembered the day before.

In his arms, still and sound asleep, was his wife. Her hair was splayed on the pillow and tickled his nose. He couldn’t see her face, but today it felt more real: this woman who had become his friend and companion, lover and hero of Ferelden, was now his wife… his queen . He gently propped himself onto his elbow, so as not to wake her, and gazed down at her face, noting the way the sunlight accentuated her high cheekbones. This wonderful, beautiful and exquisite woman is my wife , he thought with quiet awe. His chest flipped with uncontained joy and gone was the trepidation of the night before.

He studied her face as she slept, her nostrils flaring slightly as she sighed contently in her sleep. He lay back down and pulled her close to him, tightening his grip on her, and burying his face in her neck, inhaling her intoxicatingly sweet scent. The silk nightdress was so smooth and thin, and his hands couldn’t help but wander up and down, his fingers gently brushing the material over her skin, like water. Without realising it, he found himself rutting against her arse, which was tucked up cosily to his groin. He tried to still himself, she's still asleep ! But his wandering hands could not be stopped as one slowly crept up her torso and cupped a breast. The shift was so thin, that he felt her nipple harden with the barest of touches and that’s when he realised that her hips were moving too.

He pushed himself up to an elbow again, and her eyes, dark and hooded with desire stared back at him. Her lips parted with a hitched breath and he flicked her nipple with his thumb. Moving his hand downwards, he swallowed her breathy moan as his fingers teased the hem of her smalls, mouth crashing down on hers in simple, uncontained desire.

They had not so much as kissed since they had said their wedding vows in the Chantry, he realised. And as his tongue licked her upper lip, he swore to himself that he would never leave it so long to kiss her again. Her mouth opened with a sigh and their tongues danced as he continued to rut, and she squirmed against him as his hand finally slipped into her smalls in search of her bud.

He stifled a groan as he found her hand already there, gently touching herself. His fingers joined hers whilst they moved their hips and she guided him with her hand. He slipped a digit inside of her and she gasped, squirming against his erection, straining against his smalls, and he pictured feeling her growing wetness around his cock. With impatience, he slid her nightdress up so she was exposed and he pulled his cock out and rubbed it blissfully between her cheeks. Her soft skin was as smooth as silk as he rocked his hips, gaining pleasant friction with her arse.

“More…” she whispered, as her fingers joined his, pumping inside her. And with his control waning, he obliged eagerly.

Alistair rolled her onto her back and pulled her hands over her head as he pinned her down. Her legs fell open for him, and as much as he wanted - no needed - to be inside her, Alistair knew what his lady wife needed more was to be spoiled. If it were up to him, the king would love to stay buried between his wife’s legs for the rest of his days, as her taste was so sweet. He trailed kisses down her neck, and her hips lifted up to meet his, and his resolve almost broke as her core was teased against his cock. But being a Warden had one excellent perk: incomparable stamina.

He continued down, kissing her heaving breasts as they rose and fell erratically with her breathing. Playing with one in his hand, he took her other nipple in his mouth and sucked lightly, her perfect bud hard and round in his mouth. With his hand, he squeezed her other one tight, and had her gasping: but he was nowhere near done. He let go of her breast in his mouth with a pop and glanced up at her to see her mouth open and delicious, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. He grinned and kissed her stomach, then pulled back and positioned himself on his elbows, taking in the sight of her splayed out on the bed, rosy cheeks and breathy moans all for him. He pressed his lips to her knee, then with each kiss, his stubble tickled the inside of her thigh as he moved up her legs, finally reaching that gloriously warm and wet apex in between that was just begging for him to taste.

Desire surged through him and without wasting any more time, he pulled her legs over his shoulders and licked her dripping wet folds. She cried out in pleasure as he rolled his tongue over her, and her fingers grabbed his head, nails digging into his scalp as he worked his mouth. She tasted as good as she smelt, and her hips rose up to meet his mouth, jittering as she climbed higher to her peak. He wanted to spoil her because she deserved it and more. So he reached up with one hand and squeezed a breast and flicked a nipple again, loving the way her hips bucked in response. Her nails dug deeper into his scalp and raked his chestnut hair as his other hand kneaded her arse, lifting her up so he had the best angle to eat her out.

He teased and tortured her with his mouth, and finally sucked on her clit.

“Ah...ah...Alist-ah!” she cried out, her thighs clamping around his head as she came. He tasted her orgasm on his tongue and without missing a beat, rose and positioned himself at her entrance. Her eyes flicked open to look at him as she felt him move, and a tiny smile pulled at the corner of her exquisite mouth. That was all he needed.

So tormentingly slowly, Alistair finally entered her, the warmth and wetness so indescribably perfect that he couldn’t help but let out a moan. He fit her perfectly and when sheathed completely, he paused and stared into her eyes. Her breathing was still fast from her orgasm and he captured her mouth with his, letting her taste herself. Then he rolled his hips and started to slowly make love to her, not once tearing his gaze from her face. He noticed every single expression that flickered before him as he thrust and teased: a hand on her hip and another once more on her breasts.

She wrapped her legs around him and he plunged unbelievably deeper inside of her, making them gasp and moan in unison as they moved together in a rhythm as old as time. As they moved, the pleasure and pressure mounted, but Alistair had much more control than a boy still wet behind the ears - he wanted to give her so much more before he -

“Ah!” he gasped, as she took him by surprise. She had crossed her ankles behind his back and with her strong legs, twisted so that he was forced to roll and let her sit on top of him. Incredibly, they did not lose touch, and the angle was different but just as pleasurable. She smirked down at him as she pressed her hands to his chest and began to slowly roll her hips, her breasts rising and falling beautifully as she took him. Alistair was entranced as he watched his love move quicker with a growing need and he held her hips tightly to control her pace. But she didn’t need any assistance, as she moved faster and faster, his thrusts coming up to meet hers, flesh slapping flesh. Her moans crescendoed, and the erotic sight before him of his wife move above him with a wonton need to claim her pleasure...well he could feel his control slipping. He wanted to spill himself inside of her, and see his seed drip down her legs…

“Fuck!” she cried, reaching her second orgasm, as Alistair dug his fingers into her thighs to stop himself from joining her peak of pleasure. She fell back and Alistair seized his moment to regain control and topped her again.

Fully sheathed once more, he deliberately moved slowly, as he knew that if he picked up the pace then he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. But she caught his eye and licked her lips.

“Please, Alistair,” she panted, her hands digging into his hips, urging him to move faster.

“Mmmm?” he replied, biting her earlobe and slipping out of her, making her whimper.

“What do you want?” he teased, stroking himself as she looked up at him with uncloaked desire.

“It’s more than what I want ...it’s what I need ,” she whispered, sitting up to meet her lips with his, her hand trailing down his chest and abdomen, making his muscles tense in anticipation.

They kissed delicately, fervently, noses touching, breath mingling. “And what do you need?”

She pulled away and lay back down on the bed, her legs falling open. She traced one finger down the length of her, and his eyes followed.

“Take me, my king,” she begged, touching herself in front of him.

Almost roughly, because he couldn't bear to not be in her again, he flipped her over, brought her to her knees and lined himself up to her entrance. He kissed her salty back, sleek with sweat and breathed in her ear. “As my queen commands.”

He thrusted inside, and she took all of him. She threw her head back and he grabbed her neck, pulling her up to him for a searing kiss, their tongues dancing as he thrusted fiercely, the globe of her ass bouncing against his abdomen. She moaned in his mouth as she touched herself; legs shaking as he pounded into her over and over; sweat mingling, with moans loud and needy, filling the chamber. He pumped with such animalistic need and she cried in pleasure and she gripped the bedsheets for support as he took her, unrelenting in his passion.

With a shaking arm, he reached around and touched her pearl and she cried out, her orgasm sudden and huge.

“Fill me!” she pleaded as she continued to come.

He snapped and finally, wonderfully, he reached his peak too and exploded inside of her, his vision blurred and black at the edges, as he emptied his seed inside of her - for the first time. And Maker, did it feel incredible to finish like this; in a union of bodies so perfect and natural.

Alistair, as breathless as if he had just swam the length of the Waking Sea, collapsed on top of her, laughing with joy.

“I...I love...you,” he panted, their legs entwined and he wasn't sure where his body ended and hers began.

They stayed like that for some time, and Alistair was tempted to fall asleep just like this, but she wiggled underneath him.

“Mmmm, as much as I love you inside of me,” she murmured;” you are crushing me somewhat.”

He reluctantly slipped out of her, trailing kisses all down her back and arse, making her hairs stand on end and her toes curl. He gathered her into his arms, the sheets around them a total mess, but he was loath to care as she lightly ran her fingers over him. His limbs felt like jelly, all loose and relaxed.

“Hey, Alistair?”

“Hmm?” he replied, barely opening his eyes.

“There’s some cheese leftover from last night.”

He sat up suddenly and looked over to where she pointed.

“Cheese for breakfast?” he asked.

She smiled and nodded. “Cheese for breakfast,” she confirmed.

fin

[constancelaufeydottir]

Help me, help you

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: Attempted suicide, mentions of mental illness and eating disorders, angst, fluff(?)

Summary: You seek help from the stranger who saved you the night you sought for an escape, maybe you weren’t the only one who needs saving.

A/N: This is my first ever fic here! I’ve never written anything before and I’m really anxious to put this out here, please bear with me if I make any grammatical mistakes and let me know what you think!

You probably shouldn’t be doing this. They said you’d disappoint your family and people around you would be sad. But the water, it’s tempting. A dive, and your problems would be gone.

To be honest, you don’t think you family cares at all. They’ve got bigger things to worry about, you sister’s engagement, your brother’s enrolment in college. After all, you were the unwanted kid, an accident. The only time you caught your parents’ attention was when you butchered your job interview. You had prepared thoroughly but a stomach bug ruined it all and your parents blamed you for it, saying they always knew you were a failure, a disgrace to the family.

They didn’t even ask where you were going tonight. They never cared unless you had big achievements in your life or maybe when your failure was too huge for them to ignore.

The sloshing of the water is luring you to jump into it. The deep dark waters inviting you to join the others who had succeeded before you. You moved your feet a little towards the edge of the railings, embracing the chilling midnight wind as you closed your eyes. This is the end, you thought, your foot dangling over the railings ready to plummet into the river.

You felt an arm circling your waist and pulling you backwards until your back hit the ground, a palm caging the back of your head, preventing it from hitting the hard ground.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” You heard a deep voice coming from the right side of your body, hands were on your shoulders gently shaking. You blinked a few times, the blinding lights made you wince as you closed your eyes again with your hand shielding them.

The man who saved you helped you sat up, kneeling beside you to ensure your safety. You took time to have a close look at the good Samaritan. His hair was long, stopping a little lower down his ears. Eyes was the colour of the ocean, almost enticing as the water. His chin adorned with a scruffy beard, lips curving in a small smile. If it weren’t for your bad mood right now, you would have joked that he looked like a modern version of Jesus.

“Why?” You whispered, so quietly if not for his enhance hearing, the man wouldn’t have heard you. “Why did you save me?” You cried out, hands trembling as they grasped the collar of his bomber jacket. Your teary face surprised him and your sniffles made his heart tightened.

“I- I can’t let you die!” He exclaimed. The tears in your eyes spilled out again as you collapsed into the stranger’s chest, crying your heart out. He felt the vulnerability in your voice and hugged you tighter, palms meeting behind you and patted your back to comfort you.

You didn’t know how long you sat there crying in the man’s arms. Your tears soaked the dark red Henley underneath his jacket, causing it to stick onto his firm chest but he did not utter a single word, instead opting to calm you down.

You had no idea how you got home, except for the fact that you vaguely recalled ending up in the arms of a certain stranger, the rest was a blur.

You woke up on the couch the next morning, your phone alarm blaring. The hard rectangular metal was digging the soft flesh of your butt and you groggily dig it out of your back pocket turning the alarm off.

There was a sweet smell of pancake wafted from the kitchen and you sniffed at the smell, face scrunching when you didn’t remember having someone over. The thought of someone unfamiliar inviting themselves into your house alarmed you and your hastily got up from the couch, a pillow in your hand as you inched slowly towards the kitchen. Peeking your head around the corner, you found a tall and broad figure in the space, hands fumbling around with something. You couldn’t see clearly who that was, your glasses were in your bedroom the last time your saw it.

You knew the stranger in your house could never be your brother because one, he was an asshole who gave no fucks about his sister’s life and two, your both hated each other’s guts. Your breath quickened as the intruder suddenly turned his head towards your direction. You yelped as you threw the pillow at him, or the general direction where he was standing.

Of course, you missed the target when he walked towards you. “Shit, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die.” You shut your eyes as you heard his footsteps getting closer and closer to you.

“Hey, you’re awake!” You squinted at the man, trying to make out the features of his blurry face. He looked oddly like the guy who saved you on the bridge last night. He moved closer to you when he realized you couldn’t see him clearly. Your eyes widen at the sudden close proximity, your lips were slightly parted. You could feel his breath against your face, his long lashes and that steel blue eyes.

“Y-you!” Instantly, you were conscious of your own appearance, your eyes must have been puffy from last night’s non-stop crying. There were probably still dried tears on your face. Adverting your gaze from his, you looked to the side as you slid out of the slightly awkward situation. Walking towards the counter, you pulled out a wet tissue and wiped your stiff face with it then retrieving the cold spoons you kept in the freezer.

He laughed when you put the spoons on your eyes, you sighed at the cool sensation soothing the puffiness of your eyelids. “Don’t laugh. It’s effective,” you glared at him.

“Alright, alright.” He threw his hands up. “I’m Bucky,” his hand extended outward, waiting for you to shake it. “Y/N.” He smiled, eyes crinkled as you reciprocate the gesture.

He cooked you breakfast, although it was a simple one, you were still grateful.

“Thank you for last night,” you gave him a genuine smile as he was seated across you on the dining table, stuffing his mouth with the pancakes. “It’s nice to see that someone cares.” This time you smile didn’t quite reach your eyes and he caught it.

Grabbing your hand across the table, he looked at you in the eyes with sincerity. “It’s the least I could do.” Taking a deep breath, cautiously he spoke up. “Y/N, I know it’s not my place to say this but seek for professional help if you aren’t feeling fine. Maybe just talk to someone or … go see a therapist.”

“Are you insinuating that I have depression?” You scoffed. Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as you snatched your hand from his grasp and crossed your arms in front of your chest defensively.

Depression? No, you couldn’t have had depression. It’s a sign of weakness, you father said. Depression is just a fancy term to describe one’s laziness, that’s what your mother told you.

“I’m not insinuating anyt-”

“Get out,” you interrupted, “get out of my house!” Enraged, you pointed towards the door while snapping at him. How dare he, a stranger suggested that there was something wrong with you.

Sighing, Bucky gave you a taut smile while nodding then placed a piece of paper on the coffee table on his way out. “Here’s my number in case you needed any help.” He paced towards the door opening it, giving you a last glance before leaving.

It’s been weeks now since you yelled at Bucky to get out of your house. You felt bad and deep down there you knew he was right, but the stigma surrounding mental illnesses was extremely terrifying to you. Not to mention what will happen if your family found out. You were a major disappointment in your household already and you definitely wouldn’t want to add a mental illness into the mix.

You were sitting in your office, typing on the keyboard furiously. Honestly you didn’t know why you were still here. This job sucks, even though the salary was high and you’d just been promoted to manager of the department. Chewing on your nails and bouncing your legs under the desk, you felt the need to just leave everything and go home.

The drive home was painful, you simply had no energy to do so but you still had to go home, your only safe place. Taking off your shoes, changing out your clothes, you lied on the bed. Your stomach grumbled, protesting at the lack of food in your system but you just couldn’t get yourself off the bed to make something for yourself. Your mind travelled back to the day you were on that bridge. You didn’t actually seek for death, all you sought for was an escape. An escape from reality, from your parents, from the constant judgements of people surrounding you.

As you closed your eyes, you wished that tomorrow never comes.

Another day, another disappointment. You were still alive, and the world seemed a wee bit duller than before. Skipping breakfast, you went to work as usual, plastering the faux smile on your face which everybody seemed to liked and expected from you. In this workplace, everybody’s gotta put on a façade and that included you but you dreaded the day where there would be a crack in your mask. Until then, you just had to work harder to reinforce it because according to your parents, nobody would want to see the real you, it was unpleasant … and ugly.

“I gotta say. Miss Y/L/N, you are spectacular. Being one of the Y/L/N, I bet it was a lot of pressure but you have done such amazing job, I think your parents would be so proud of you.” A client who was a family friend was seated across you, a wide grin on her face as her face crinkled rambling about how lucky you were being born into a family filled with successful people.

You smiled and thank her for her compliments, cutting the steak your ordered into bite-size pieces. Poking into one of the pieces with your fork, you lifted it up to your lips. Taking a deep breath, you put it into your mouth and instantly you felt like you were about to throw up. Fighting the urge to spit it out, you endured the taste of the meat as you bite at it mechanically. Looking down at your plate of steak, you no longer feel the appetite to consume any more of it.

Everyday you woke up, you wondered how long would it be until the colours faded into grey. Perhaps it was the only thing keeping you alive right now, counting the days until the beautiful hue of the sunsets no longer amazes you; the sight of puppies doesn’t excite you; the thought of having ice cream whenever you can no longer sounds appealing to you.

You should get some help, you really should. Your body was deteriorating, you could feel it. You weren’t in denial anymore; you knew there was something gravely wrong about you. Your body couldn’t afford being in denial. The loss of radiance in your face, the hair and weight loss and most importantly, you couldn’t put on a façade anymore.

Bucky rushed towards your apartment when you called, he could hear how shaky your voice was. He was extremely worried the past weeks even though he had only met you once. Maybe it was because he was in that dark place before and was able to relate or maybe he took a liking to you. He found himself constantly wondering whether you were well and how long would it take for your stubborn ass to call him.

He arrived at your place as fast as he could, probably drove past a few red lights but he couldn’t care less. He was more worried about you that the fine he would have to pay.

Bucky stormed past the hallway, straight to your unit and knocked on the door when he couldn’t open it. He received no response from you and his mind immediately went straight to the negative thoughts. His heart raced as he banged on the door, shouting your name several times.

He was about to break his way into your apartment when he saw the door opened slightly, your tired eyes meeting his concerned ones. He made his way into the space and immediately got the wind knocked out of him when you hurled yourself into his chest.

“Imsorryimsorryimsorry.” You kept chanting your apologies as you broke down in his embrace. You felt as if you were floating in the middle of the ocean succumbing into nothingness and he was the anchor, helping you to stay in one place. He was a mere stranger to you yet he witnessed every vulnerable side of you, if only your family could share the same level of concern as he did.

“Shh, shh. I’m here now,” he guided both of you to the couch with you still tightly in his arms, smoothing a palm on your back gently patting you. You hiccupped, eyes teary while you tried to calm yourself down. The tears however would not co-operate, it was like a broken faucet and no matter what you try it wouldn’t fix itself. “I’m really sorry for lashing out last time.”

He didn’t say anything, only wiped your tears with the sleeve of his sweater instead. Maybe it was the fatigue of crying too much or the absence of food in your body, you drifted into sleep in his arms while he hummed songs to you.

You woke up in the middle of the night when you heard the heavy breaths of the man. Half awake, you blindly reach out for your glasses on the night stand, vision clearer as you saw the door to your bedroom was wide opened. Getting on your feet, you moved towards the source of the noises carefully and realized it came from Bucky who was now thrashing on the couch in your living room.

He was groaning, clutching at his left arm painfully as if it was burned. A sheen of sweat could be seen on his forehead, strays of hair sticking onto the sides of his face. The front of his wife beater clung onto his chest soaked by perspiration. His groans soon turned into agonizing screams as he tossed and turned on your couch. You noticed webs of burn scars littering the expanse of his left shoulder to his arm and felt your heart tightened at the sight of it.

You hastily knelt in front of the couch, hand gripping on his shoulder and his face. “Bucky! Bucky!” His eyes shot open at your voice, flinching at the sight of you. Hands balled into fists in front of his chest, he was ready to take on any attack coming at his way. He visibly relaxed when he broke out of the haze, pushing his hair back with his hand with a bashful look on his face.

His muscles tensed when your hand reached out to his shoulder, but then slackened when you pulled him into a hug. His head fell onto your shoulder as you patted on his back like how he did for you just a few hours ago, ignoring the sweat gliding down his skin.

It must have been hours; the two of you sitting there in an embrace on your couch, not wanting to let each other go after what you both have been through. No one spoke a word and there was only silence in the large apartment of yours. The faint ray of sunlight peeked through the blinds, gleaming into your apartment reminding you to start the day.

He was the one who broke the hug, an awkward silence now surrounding the both of you. “Thank you … for helping me, even though I was supposed to be the one helping you,” his voice was raspy from the groans and moans. “It’s … uh nothing,” you shrugged, dragging your worn body to make some hot chocolate for him even though your body was screaming for you to lay in the bed, rotting your day away.

Your hands trembled as you passed him the mug. “Where’s yours?” Your head tilted at his question, not quite sure what he was asking about.

“Y/N, how long have you not eaten anything?” You turned your head away, not meeting his determined gaze. You wished he didn’t catch the glint of guilt in your eyes, but you knew he did.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He clenched his jaw at your statement.

“You called me, Y/N. You called me because you need help and I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me.” You gulped at his words. His eyebrows were furrowed and it triggered a fear in you; you didn’t want to disappoint him like you did to your parents.

Your lips quivered a little, eyes darting to the carpet. “I couldn’t find the energy to eat, it’s just too much work. These days it’s either eat or shower. Since I don’t have any appetite anymore, I dedicated all the energy to shower then. But I have a feeling that I might not even have the energy to drag myself to take a shower or even get up in the mornings soon. It’s just so tiring, where do people even get those energy from?”

“Well, we’ll deal with it one step at a time, okay?” Bucky tilted your chin up to make you look him in the eyes. You whispered a meek ‘ok’, suddenly tired at the lack of sleep.

He handed you the now warm hot chocolate, a stern stare on his face. “At least have some fluids in your system, please.” His gaze softened when he saw you gulping at the sight of the warm brown liquid, nose scrunched up in disgust.

He noticed your discomfort and gestured you to wait while he went to your kitchen and rummaged around the drawers only to return with a spoon.

“Baby steps, okay? Just 5 spoons of it then we’re done.” You nodded while he passed the spoon to you.

The whole morning was spent with Bucky in the living room, him giving your warm encouraging smiles whenever you managed to swallow a spoonful of the chocolate drink.

“Go get some sleep,” he gave your knee a few light taps before proceeding to pull you off the couch and guide you back to your room, then went back to the couch himself to get some shut-eye.

Sending a message to your assistant that you would have to take a few days off, you didn’t wait until you get a reply and plopped yourself on the bed, once again drifting into sleep hoping tomorrow would be better than today.

[official-weasley]

Meant to Be (Charlie Weasley x OC)

What happens when Bill brings home a girl and Charlie is completely awestruck by her?

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, cursing, nothing besides some adorable Charlie & Bill bonding 🤗

Chapter 17

Charlie

It's been a few weeks since Rhylee and I fought. It didn't make matters better for us but at least she has been coming to work on time and we can function properly as a group. The only time she spoke to me alone was when she told me that the Ministry sent her the date of the trial.

I offered to accompany her but she declined immediately. I didn't press the matter further as I saw I was getting nowhere. She had her good days but the bad days outweighed them. I felt sorry for her and even more, I felt helpless. I didn't know how to help her even though I still wanted to.

I know she needed help. She needed someone to talk to her. This was getting way out of hand and the feeling I got that all of her behavior had a deeper meaning behind it grew stronger. She kept disappearing the second we finished work Merlins knows where and I ran out of places to search for her.

Did I feel like giving up?

No.

But did I have a choice?

I don't even know anymore.

I thought about talking to Bill about it but I couldn't see how he could help me. He would just say that I should tell her how I feel but me being in love with her can't fix whatever she is going through.

I miss her so much. It's the strangest feeling when she is standing a few meters away from me, pretending to be deep in work, clearly preoccupied with her thoughts, and I miss her. I miss her energy and her spark and love for work and dragons. She lost all of that and it seems as if she is only drifting further away. I was genuinely afraid for her but I just didn't know what to do.

I have never been in a situation like this with a friend before and I don't know anyone who has. I don't know if this was because of her prick boyfriend or because of the trial, even though she told me it went great and they are waiting for the date of the next one. I hated that I couldn't figure her out. That I couldn't read her mind and do something about her sorrow.

—

I woke up one morning from what seemed like another sleepless night. I know that I shouldn't beat myself so much over this and move on with my life. Everyone was telling me to do so but I can't. When you love someone as much as I love her, you don't just let them go, you fight for them.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I moved the curtain that was keeping my bedroom dark and looked outside. Cloudy. Why is it never sunny on my day off? I laid back down and stared at the ceiling. What can I do? Where can I take her to make her smile? Just for a second if I can't get more out of her. How can I make her talk to me and make her trust me on a level where she would tell me what is making her so miserable?

A knock on the door made me lift my head. I got up and went to grab some pants. Did I miscalculate? Was I supposed to work today?

I stopped in the doorway of my bedroom and covered my eyes with my hand. Even though the sun was hidden behind clouds the brightness of my living room still hurt my eyes. Someone knocked again.

“Coming!” I announced myself.

Give me a break whoever you are.

I opened the door and swallowed my words. It was Bill, with the biggest grin plastered over his face. He was holding something behind his back. I take it all back. Merlin, was I happy to see him!

“Bill! What are you doing here?” I gestured for him to come inside.

“I took the liberty to write to Peter to see when you have a day off.” I didn’t think his grin could get any bigger but it did. He revealed two bottles of Fire Whiskey from behind his back. “I think it’s time we celebrate me being engaged!”

“I thought the day would never come!” He stepped inside and I closed the door behind him.

He walked over to the kitchen table and placed the bottles down.

“I know I wrote it in at least three letters but damn Bill, congratulations!” I pulled him into a hug and tapped him on the back twice. “I am so fucking proud of you!”

“Thank you!” He bowed his head for a second, thinking he could hide the fact that my complement made him blush. “Now,” he clapped his hands together, “how about we get absolutely hammered!”

“I thought you’d never ask!” We each took a bottle and without even getting ourselves a glass we sat down on the sofa.

“So, what’s up with you? How are your children?” He smugged.

“They’re great. Can you believe that Aami is now fully confident about jumping in the air?” I said proudly.

“I knew you could do it! Any signs of him willing to fly?” He took a sip from his bottle.

“Nah.” I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.” “But he’s happy and healthy, right?” Bill asked.

“Yeah. It’s a she actually.” I laughed. “Tina miscalculated something.”

“Aww, you got yourself a girlfriend, Charlie!” He beamed at me.

“Who would’ve thought! It’s a miracle!” I joked.

We both fell silent for a few moments and I decided to take a leap of faith and tell him about Rhylee. I was getting desperate and the feeling in my chest, the feeling of me being helpless was killing me.

“I have to tell you something.” I took a swig. “You remember the party in August?” Bill hummed to indicate he was following what I was saying. “I slept with Rhylee.”

Just saying it out loud in front of him made me want to gulp down the entire bottle. I hated that my wireless broke down as it was suddenly too silent for my liking.

“I knew it would happen!” Bill jumped in his seat, turning to me. “I am proud of you little brother. Finally making a move.”

“She told Nick.” I lifted my hand to stop his excitement.

“You’re joking?” He frowned.

“And he said that he would forgive her as long as she stops talking to me.” I sighed.

I was not drunk enough to have this conversation.

“And let me guess…” Bill pinched his nose. “She did and she’s still with him.” I simply nodded.

“Charlie, why am I only hearing about this now?” He raised his voice at me.

“Because I promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone what happened between us and I never thought it would go this far.” I answered truthfully.

“This far?”

“I don’t know what’s going on with her, Bill. Usually, I could read her like a book but I just can’t seem to figure her out. She distanced herself from everybody. She doesn’t talk to any of us. She lost weight which means she’s not eating and she always looks as if she’s on the verge of tears.” I don’t think one bottle of Whiskey’s going to be enough for me to ignore the aching feeling in my chest.

“Charlie, you have to tell her how you feel. She can’t stay with him. Nobody deserves to be so woeful.” He took a sip of his Fire Whiskey and melted into my sofa.

“I can’t, Bill. Would it be strange if I say that I think she’s enjoying her suffering?” Bill lifted his head, a puzzled look on his face.

“That doesn’t make any sense, Charlie.” Bill shook his head in confusion.

“I didn’t think about it at first. But I know she’s not happy with him and it doesn’t make any sense why she would stay. I have been going at it in my head for weeks.” I clinked my bottle against his to remind him that he’s is not drinking nearly as much as I am.

“Do you think he has something on her?” Bill asked.

“Like blackmail?” I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I don’t even think this has anything to do with him.”

“I am not following you, Charlie.” He blinked at me.

“Trust me, I know it doesn’t make any sense. But something has to be going on with her and it’s killing me that she doesn’t want to talk to me about it.” I pressed my fingers into my eyes.

“So you did try and talk to her?” Bill wanted to know.

“Of course I did. I try every day but to no avail. She completely shut down, Bill.” I ran my hand across my face.

“I still think you should tell her how you feel.” He pursed his lips at me.

“Bill, we slept together twice…” I lifted two of my fingers. “Don’t you think she would know by now?”

“Charlie, no offense but you slept with quite a lot of girls.” He lifted his eyebrows at me, a smirk on his face. “Perhaps she thinks that she’s just another…”

“Don’t even go there.” I put my hand over his mouth. “It wasn’t just sex Bill and she knows it. I don’t know how to explain it to you and I am not sure I want to with the way you are looking at me.” I rolled my eyes.

“Okay, okay. Only you know what really happened.” He tried calming me down. “Look, if you still feel as you described to me when you came to see me in London and you think she feels the same, you have to do something about it, Charlie.” He put his hand on my shoulder.

“I know this isn’t a fairytale and she might be having other problems so love can’t fix everything but I know you won’t stop until you get to the bottom of this. I know you care too much to do so and I still think she will leave that Nick guy and end up with you, one way or another.”

“So you’re saying to just be patient and keep nagging her until she tells me what’s wrong?” I summed up what he was saying.

It was practically what I was doing already.

“I guess. I am sorry I can’t be of better help.” A sad expression painted his face.

“It’s okay. Just talking to you about it helps.” I gave out a weak smile.

“Now, can we stop being so miserable and drink faster and talk about something more cheerful.” I raised my bottle in the air and he followed my lead.

Even though he briefly explained it in his letters, Bill finally got the chance to tell me how he proposed to Fleur. I thought I was going to cry, it was beautiful and it came as no surprise that she said yes before he even finished his cheesy speech about how much he loves her.

They were planning on having the wedding next August and Bill expressed his annoyance about mum not liking his fiancé. I don’t know why she is so against her, can’t she see her son is happy?

I remember when Bill brought Rhylee home and mum was over the moon to meet her, why does she think now that Fleur isn’t good enough for him?

I visited them a few times when they invited me for dinner and she was just lovely and nothing but nice. I was confident that mum would have to come around sooner or later. She can’t stop Bill from being with the love of his life.

We emptied our bottles sooner than we would like to admit and it became evident that Bill is sleeping on my sofa tonight. Somewhere, halfway through our bottles, it dawned on us that perhaps it would be a good idea if we ate something.

Cooking while being tipsy, especially Bill, whose cooking skills missed his genes, was the funniest thing I have done in a while. If anyone would be watching us, they would think we were insane and would be waiting with their wands in their hands, ready to extinguish the fire that was bound to erupt sooner or later.

It didn’t surprise us that we burnt both the meat and the potatoes but due to how drunk we were, we didn’t care much for the taste.

When we moved our party back to the living room, Bill thought it would be funny if I would have to name every single girl I ever slept with. He was crying, laughing so much. I, on the other hand, was getting a headache thinking hard about the few girls I took home over the years, as I simply couldn’t recall more than a face.

“Next time I need to bing more bolles.” Bill’s tongue was giving him away of how drunk he was as he picked up his empty bottle and looked through the hole to see why nothing was coming out.

“Seriously, how didn’t you think of this sooner?” I was surprised that I could still speak normally.

Perhaps, I should start drinking less.

“Oh, shit!” Bill suddenly stood up, his hands cupping his face, eyes widened as if he just remembered something really important. “I fogot, Chalie!”

“What did you forget, Bill?” I couldn’t hold in the chuckle that was tickling my throat.

The way he spoke was just too funny.

“I fogot to ask you!” He pointed his finger at me, still standing up. Barely, but he was standing up.

“Ask me what?” I encouraged him, ready to get on my feet and grab him in case he would begin to fall.

“Will you…” He hiccupped. “…Charles Weasley…” He got all dramatic. “Be my maid of honor?” I burst out laughing.

What in the bloody hell was he saying?

“Only if I can wear a pretty dress.” I joked and pulled him back on the sofa.

“Wait…” He scratched his forehead, staring at the wall opposite us. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“It sure doesn’t.” I couldn’t stop laughing, he was the center of the party when he was drunk.

“Bill, are you asking me to be your best man?” I knew what he was asking me before and I couldn’t believe that he was.

We were best friends and we got over what happened between us but this was still a great honor to me and I was too drunk to be so emotional right now so I decided to mess with him a little.

“Yes!” He exclaimed and lifted his hand for me to give him a high-five. “Will you, Chalie?”

He leaned his head against the sofa and looked at me. His expression serious all of a sudden, waiting for my answer. He seemed nervous. He couldn’t possibly think that I would say no.

I stood up and picked up one of the Fire Whiskey bottles from the coffee table. I placed it in front of my mouth as if I was about to speak into it and looked him dead in the eyes.

“I, Charles Weasley,” I started in a dramatic voice, “will be your maid of honor, William Weasley!” Bill started clapping as if he has just seen the best performance of his life and I bowed as he continued cheering.

I sat back down and I couldn’t help but grin when I saw how happy it made him. Of course, I would love to be his best man. It might just be my biggest achievement besides being a Dragonologist.

I woke up in my bed the next day, surprisingly without a headache. I found Bill sound asleep on the sofa. I wasn’t so sure, he’s not going to have one so I decided to be as quiet as possible and I took a shower. I made him some breakfast and coffee and the smell of eggs finally woke him up.

Bill didn’t drink as much as I did. His job was more serious than mine so he didn’t have that much time to unwind and have some fun. I was glad he had the opportunity to do so with me.

He left after breakfast, trying to convince me again to talk to Rhylee and tell her how I feel. I told him I will think about it even though I already knew I won’t do it. Ever since I started falling for her, I imagined I would ask her out, take her for a hike and have a picnic with her and tell her how I feel.

I know I might be a fool, but I still had hope that we might end up together. I couldn’t help myself. I know it would destroy me if I knew there was no chance of us being together and I just couldn’t think about that.

[missskzbiased]

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (10)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader  X Han X OC

WC: ~ 4,7K

[Previous] [Chap] [Next]

Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness (?)

Updates: Tuesdays [Today I’m posting it a little bit earlier just because] [Also, I have up to chap 12 written but I’ve been blocked/busy to write. I already started chap 13 but the updates may be changed in the future]

Tagging: @aliceu @thatrandomoneinthecorner  @channiewoo

                                               /////

     “Holy Shit!” You sputtered, stumbling over your feet.

      Chan’s arm immediately wrapped around your waist, steading you as you tried to support yourself on the wall; eyes wide like saucers and mouth agape, utterly surprised by the scene you ran into so early in the morning. Hyunjin rubbed his eyes, dragged steps trying to bring him to the living room to check what startled you and Chan that much.

    “Holy shit!” He blurted out, suddenly looking awake. You would have laughed at him in other circumstances but right now you could only focus on Paris and Han sleeping together on the couch. Their bodies were covered with a thick blanket, and you could only hope for them to be fully dressed under there.

    Actually, that was kind of cute.

    As soon as the shock dissolved, you took in the scene. Though the blanket didn’t allow you to see much, you assumed Paris was lying right on top of Han, head resting on the crook of his neck. She nuzzled him, nose rubbing against his neck, which made him squirm a little bit, humming as he adjusted himself, probably hugging her under the sheets. You gave them a small smile, looking at Chan and Hyunjin with soft eyes.

    “Don’t look at me like this, you’re going to clean that couch if his butt touched my cushion” Chan hissed, arms untangling from your waist. He made his way to the kitchen, looking for something to eat “We don’t have anything for breakfast…” He sighed, looking at Hyunjin.

    “I didn’t think about it” He shrugged, and Chan pursed his lips, nodding in disappointment.

    “Of course you didn’t” He rolled his eyes, straightening himself and closing the refrigerator “I guess I’ll order something before we wake them up” He looked at you in doubt, wondering if it was a good plan. You frowned, looking at him in shock.

    “Why the fuck you’re going to order breakfast? Are you nuts?” You scoffed, studying your outfit. Sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt. Good enough to go get some stuff “I’m going to buy something real quick” You offered, heading to the door.

    “By yourself?” Hyunjin asked surprised. You arched your brow, looking at him in question “No, I mean… Shouldn’t one of us go with you? Actually, just let us order something, it’ll be way easier” He rambled. You sighed, rolling your eyes before looking at Chan.

     “I’ll be back in a min—“ Your answer was abruptly cut off by a startled Paris. She shrieked, floundering to lift her body, completely embarrassed by the situation. You assumed her attempt to lift her body wasn’t really gentle to Han’s torso, because he shut his eyes open, coughing and trying to move, startled by whatever was happening, which just served to drop Paris to the ground.

    She ended up dragging the blanket with her, uncovering Han to display a fully dressed boy with a damn hangover. He shoots his hand to his eyes, covering them in an attempt to make the light less painful, uncovering the next second to check what was the soft thud followed by a whine that reached his ears. He lifted himself just a little bit, looking to the ground, being greeted by a huge blanket covering something unknown to him.

    “What the actual fuck?” He muttered, covering his eyes again, trying to sit up. The whine came right away. He curled himself on the couch, bringing his knees closer to his chest and holding his head as he rested his forehead on his knee, utterly done with the day.

    Paris wasn’t much better.

    She got rid of the blankets, upset by her fall, a frown carved on her face. She cupped her temples, lips quirking down, another whine leaving her lips as she probably realized she had a hangover. She mimicked Han, curling up and shielding her eyes from the light.

    “Everything good?” You checked, and both of them hissed at you, complaining you were too loud. You sighed, looking at Chan “Do you happen to have some med?” You asked, feeling too young to be the mother of both of your friends. You glanced over at them, snorting as you studied their exact same antics, finding it kind of amusing.

   Chan made his way back to his room, going to look for some pills, and you stood there watching Han and Paris whining like kids. You chuckled before looking at Hyunjin, who seemed quite amused at the situation himself. You approached him, nudging his side.

   “They’re so gonna die of embarrassment later” You grinned, and this time he giggled, nodding and crossing his arm.

    “I’m not going to let them live it down” He promised.

                                                              ////

    “Well, that’s all for today” Mr.Lee announced, standing up before looking around the class. You closed your notebook, shoving it into your bag like everybody else, hoisting your bag over your shoulder to get up but sitting back as Mr.Lee raised his hand, asking silently for all of you to stay a little bit more “Before you all go, I want to ask for feedback about your essay. As you may know, it was the first time I gave you an essay like this, so… Well, I guess I want to hear you out”    

    “I think it was pretty invasive” Someone raised their hand, stiffly exposing their opinion “Also, we could have more time… It’s not exactly easy to put all your life in someone’s hand when you don’t know them” You nodded in agreement. Although you had ended up with Paris and Hyunjin, you could imagine how hard it was for the groups who didn’t know each other.

    Embarrassing, to say the least.

    “I agree” Someone else raised their hand, boldly crossing their arms right after, a challenging look across their face “How were we supposed to give all our lives to someone to discuss when we didn’t even know this person? We had two weeks to know one another… It’s not like we can just trust people like this” It was a good point. You looked at Mr.Lee, who hummed, nodding at the input.

   “I’ll admit that this was one of my goals” He said, thoughtfully grabbing his chin “The whole point was to put all of you on the spot, just like a patient feels when they go to therapy. I understand it’s hard… Also, in therapy, you have the law beside you stating the psychologist can’t spread your life around… But the vulnerability itself was my point” He seemed pleased with their discomfort, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

   You never felt as vulnerable as you felt talking about yourself and your family issues with Paris. If that was the whole point, he did an amazing job embarrassing you all. You looked at Paris, narrowing your eyes as you pondered his arguments. Indeed, even if she was a “psychologist” to the project, she also had to put her story in both your hand and Hyunjin’s, so she was on spot too, even if she didn’t need to discuss it with you.

    There was no one to be saved there.

   “Let me ask you this… How many of our fake psychologists think they had a positive impact on your group?” He looked around and so did you. Some people raised their hands, including Paris, who smiled proudly, chest puffed out “Now, how many of you think that impact could replace a real therapy?” You looked around again.

    Not one hand raised.

    “Good, good” He said softly, nodding in approval “You aren’t psychologists and therapy is way different than this activity. I want you guys to understand that it’s hard to open up and you, as a psychologist, won’t be the only one studying what is right in front of you… Patients are logical and judging human beings like all of us. They can and will study you” He walked around, hands to his back, watching all of you “They know you are analyzing them and they will choose you based on something. It can be your empathy, it can be your responsiveness to them, it can be the apparent lack of judgment… It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that none of you are better than them, and the sooner you realize it, the better”

    You took in everything he said.

     He was good.

     “Lastly, who would consider going to a therapist after all the debates you guys did for this project?” You raised your hand immediately, looking around to see if anyone else would raise their hands. To your surprise, a lot of people did, such as Hyunjin, who didn’t seem too comfortable to raise it fully in the air, shyly letting his hand hover over his lowered head.

     Your eyes met Paris, hands rested on her lap.

     Really?

    Mr.Lee finally waved his hands dismissively, allowing all of you to go. You got up again, followed by Paris and Hyunjin – and all of your classmates, eager to just go anywhere else –, hoisting your bag over your shoulder and heading to the stairs. You risked a glance at Paris before clearing your throat.

    “No therapist?” You asked curiously, and she gave you an amused look, chuckling.

     “Why? Do you think I need it or something? I think I’m pretty well by myself” She sounded placid, her face totally at ease, as if she didn’t give much thought to your question. You shrugged casually studying your surroundings before returning your gaze to her.

     “Well, we all need someone to talk to” You said hesitantly, and she eyed you weirdly, ready to confront you. Before she could say anything, though, Hyunjin joined the conversation. He had a teasing smirk adorning his lips, a mischievous glint on his eyes warned both of you about his intentions.

     “She already has someone, right, Paris?” She rolled her eyes, groaning and throwing her head back as if she could ask God to take him away at any moment now “I just don’t know if they talk much… I’m sure as hell they cuddle a lot, though” You chuckled, shaking your head amused by him. Paris blushed, gaze fixed on the ground.

    “She won’t even say anything! I guess she just fell like this” You joked, getting an approving nod from Hyunjin. He looked proudly at you, glad to know you were going to join him in annoying her “I’ve heard you and Han have a project together this week” You grinned, making her scoff and push you lightly, holding the strap of her bag tightly before looking at you.

    “Yeah, I kinda told you that yesterday” She pointed out sarcastically “Really, guys… Will you ever let it go? I was drunk” She gave you her puppy eyes, which normally would have some effect on you but not today. You chuckled, nudging her too, smirking as you saw her pointed look at you, grumpily waiting for whatever you had to say.

  “Please!” You rolled your eyes “Even in your drunkest days you never woke up on top of me!” You accused, and she groaned again, clutching her cheeks and pulling them down. Hyunjin chuckled at her reaction before nudging her, pointing ahead to the stairs.

   “Oh, look! Boyfriend is waiting for you” He teased, pointing to Han, who waited for you on the stairs, nervously gripping his backpack’s straps. Paris shouted to get his attention out of habit, which just intensified your teasing until you got next to him. You and Hyunjin smirked at him as soon as you reached him, throwing him a suggestive look.

    “What’s up?” He tried to break the ice, blushing as his eyes darted between you and Paris before setting on Hyunjin “Is he going to stick with us from now on?” He asked displeased, and you were prepared to send Hyunjin away so you could head to the dining hall but Hyunjin interrupted you before you could say it.

    “Rude” He pointed out “As far as I remember, you came along to my house, and I even let you sleep on my couch with my girl” He joked. You and Paris chuckled, though she whined right after, knowing she wouldn’t be able to live it down so soon. Han seemed to blush harder─ which didn’t seem even possible─ and cleared his throat before grimacing at Hyunjin.

    “First of all, She’s not your girl” His tone was kinda threatening, and you had to fight back a smile as you glanced at a blushing Paris beside you “And what was I supposed to do? Let them with a dick like you?” He challenged, puffing his chest and trying to look more intimidating. Hyunjin scoffed at him, looking down at his eyes and grimacing.

   “I wasn’t the one who woke up drunk with someone on the couch” He sneered, stepping ahead to approach him, getting just a few inches away from Han “I don’t think you’re in any position to call me a dick” You darted your eyes between the two boys, worried. The tension built up to the point the four of you got silent, looking warily to each other, swallowing dry and clearing your throats once in a while.

    “You know what? We’re getting late to our lunch with Chan” You blurted out, locking your arm with Hyunjin’s, who gave you an astonished look. You gave a tight smile to your friends, ignoring the distressed look you got from Han and the confused frown Paris shot your way “See you guys later! Bye!” You waved your hand, dragging Hyunjin along with you hurriedly.

    “I’m sorry but what the fuck?!” Hyunjin looked at your arms locked, brows knitting together as he looked at them incredulously “I don’t recall Chan saying anything about a lun—“ You glanced back to make sure Paris and Han wouldn’t be looking at you, dropping his arm and interrupting him immediately.

    “I don’t want you guys to fight” You waved dismissively “Also, it’s better if they got some alone time together, don’t you think?” You snorted. He hummed in agreement, straightening up and peeking at you.

   “So… Where are we going to eat?” He asked curiously, shoving his hands on his pockets casually, tilting his head to observe you.

   “What do you mean?” You scoffed, arching your brows amused. He rolled his eyes, gesturing to the dining hall impatiently.

   “Well, Chan didn’t invite us to eat so I’m assuming you’ll eat somewhere else since your friends will be there” He wagged his hand, looking at you as if you were dumb. You nodded slowly, realizing he was right.

   “I didn’t really think it through” You admitted “I can go anywhere else, that’s not a problem… One day won’t make such a difference to my final budget” You shrugged, and he nodded back, uncomfortable. You arched your brow, nodding your head in question.

   “So… That’s it” He raised his hand to wave you goodbye, stiffly standing in front of you “See you around” And that being said, both of you parted your ways.

                                                                      ////

    Wednesday was a lonely day.

    By now, you were used to having lunch by yourself and go back home to enjoy your few hours before your shift. You always treasured these two hours. It was the time you had to stay in silence, peacefully laid down on your bed, or stressfully trying to put up with your assignments.

    Usually, you didn’t open the door to find Paris and Han on the couch, though.

    “Oh?” You let out, clearly confused. Han held the guitar to his torso, looking down to the strings as he thought about something, humming as he heard Paris mumble. They raised their heads slowly, looking at you froze on the doorframe “I didn’t know you were going to be here… I just came to…” Your eyes wandered around the room, spotting your book on the table “To pick this up” You walked over to the table, smiling awkwardly before getting your book.

    “You’re going out?” Paris asked surprised. Of course, she did. She knew you liked to stay in your room at this time, even if she wasn’t home. You always beamed about your alone time on Wednesdays. You took quick steps to the door, nodding before your eyes roamed around the room, struggling to focus on them and hide your nervousness.

    “Hm… Yeah! I’m actually… I’m meeting up a friend” You stumbled around your words, letting out a fake giggle “To… Lend him this!” You raised your book, finally finding something to say “He asked me this book and I totally forgot to take it with me! Yep! That’s right” You smiled proudly, waving at them “Bye! Take your time together! See you later” You said as you closed the door behind you.

    You stood there in front of the door, blinking a few times before letting a sigh out. God, you were horrible at lying! You glanced at the door, holding the book close to your chest and ready to go to the only place you could go now that you expelled yourself from your room: The garden. You absolutely loved to lay there on the grass, watching as squirrels and birds passed by, afraid to get close to you.

    You let out a sigh.

    Definitely not your plan for the day but it would work.

    You made your way to your destination, calmly walking through the halls ─looking at the garden as you walked beside the arches, hand sliding through the baluster as you felt the soothing breeze huff your face ─, watching the green grass and the yellow flowers that you liked so much. You smiled as you watched a squirrel pick up something from the ground, quickly moving to hide it somewhere else. When it reached the tree it was aiming at, your eyes fell upon the guy who was resting there.

    It was Hyunjin.

    He seemed absorbed in his book, which was pretty surprising as you never pictured him as the reader type. Especially not an under-the-tree-reader kind of a guy. He was laid down on the grass, earbuds on and backpack supporting his head; one leg bent while the other one was straight, giving him a relaxed and composed look. As the treetop danced around with the wind, the filtered sunbeam danced around him too, making it look like there was the perfect spot to read a book.

    You averted your eyes to look around the place, noticing a few more people than usual hanging there. It wasn’t hard to notice most of them were girls simply admiring him while he was reading, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. As soon as you went down the stairs, finally getting to the grass, you made your way to him, ignoring the few pointed looks you received.

    “Hey, Hyunjin” You called but he didn’t answer.

    He must be really focused on his reading to not listen to your calling. You shadowed him, which appeared to get his attention, his startled eyes raising from the book to look at you. He took one of his earbuds out, hand hovering beside his ear as he held it, looking confused at you.

   “What are you doing here?” He asked surprised, raising his torso and sitting on the grass. He lifts his chin to look straight into your eyes, and you chuckled at his response.

    “Should I send you a warning every time I come to a public place?” You asked jokingly, and he let out a chuckle of his own, shaking his head in amusement. He closed his book mindlessly and you couldn’t help but be in stitches as you realized what happened right before your eyes.

    His phone slid from the book, and even though you couldn’t hear it, you could see the Drama playing on his screen. You covered your mouth, trying to muffle your laugh, and his eyes shot to his phone, cursing under his breath as he quickly took the phone from the ground, shoving it into his pocket. You pinched the bridge of your nose, squatting as you tried to recompose yourself, pointing out to his pockets.

    “I can’t…” You had to stop, gasping for air as you let another fit of laughter slip from your lips “… Believe you’re pretendi—“ Before you could end your sentence his hand shot to your mouth, cupping it. He jolted forwards, his other hand reaching for your nape so you wouldn’t go away from his grip and keep talking.

    “Shhh” He hissed, widening his eyes in a silent warning. You looked into his eyes, studying them until he realized what he was doing, letting go of you immediately. He looked away for a moment, seeming embarrassed before he shot you a smug look “Did you miss me or something?” He teased, and you rolled your eyes before sitting on the grass, legs crossed.

    “Yeah, that must be it” You scoffed, bracing yourself on your thighs “So…” You drew out, smirking as he looked at you annoyed, sensing you would mock him “Why are you here pretending to read… Political Science stuff?” You ended up confused, fixing the book so you could read its title.

    “Well, I’m a Political Science student” He pointed out as if it was obvious. You grimaced, flicking his book before nodding.

   “So you kinda should read it for real, hm?” You gave him a tight smile, and he snorted, nodding in agreement.

    “Okay, that’s fair enough” He shrugged “Just in case some Professor goes by… You know, I have to look smart to keep up my better-than-you facade” He smirked, expecting you to retort him or something but you just rolled your eyes again and pushed him lightly.

    “If you have the time to look like you’re better than me, you should start studying for real” You suggested, and this time he was the one who scoffed, tilting his head to the side before grinning obnoxiously.

    “Then I’d be way better than you and it would be too easy” He teased, grinning dissolving when you threw your head back groaning, making mention to get up. He grabbed your wrist, laughing “No, no, no! I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He giggled, and you looked at him with narrowed eyes before settling back on the grass.

    “Well, what are you doing here after all?” You asked curiously, waving dismissively to his apologetic eyes. You liked to spend your time in the garden, so you’d know if he hung around your garden like this… You didn’t recall seeing him even once.

    “I come here on Wednesdays… I’m just waiting for my classes” He shrugged “What about you? I never saw you around here” He eyes you curiously, and you chuckled, hands going to the ground as you leaned slightly back, supporting yourself, straightening your legs.

    “I was going to rest before work but Paris and Han are at the dorms, so I figured I should leave them alone” You said, looking at him with a small smile. Hyunjin furrowed his brows, tilting his head to the side, confused. He waited for you to continue but you didn’t, so he frowned, deciding to speak up.

    “Okay?” He said warily “What about it?” You looked at him as if he needed a new brain, snorting before nudging him with your foot.

   “Well, They like each other so –“ Hyunjin interrupted you by chortling, looking at you as if you were a confused kid, fondly mocking you without a word. You tilted your head, confused by his reaction, waiting for his explanation.

    “You’re kidding, right?” He chuckled, looking at any signs of amusement on your face, which he didn’t find “No! Seriously?! It’s so damn obvious he likes you!” He seemed surprised by your obliviousness, and you laughed at his delusional self, shaking your head in amusement.

    “You’re crazy! He likes Paris for like… Years!” You retorted, rolling your eyes “Where did you even get that from?” You scoffed, and this time he leaned forward, legs crossed and hands fisting the grass lightly.

   “No, look… I’m sorry to break it to you but he likes you” He repeated himself, and you looked away in disbelief “No! Really! He doesn’t like Paris! Just think for a moment, Y/N! Why would he even come to punch me for thinking I made you cry?” He looked distressed, totally taken aback by the fact that you didn’t agree with him.

    “He’s my friend! Of course, he would get upset if he thought someone made me cry!” You rolled your eyes “He stands up for me and Paris all the time. It’s called friendship, Hyunjin” He scoffed, looking away before grimacing at you.

   “Okay, and why was he all riled up when we ate the hot dog that night?” He challenged. You frowned. Well… Apart from his worries about Hyunjin in general, Han didn’t really have a reason to get so upset “See? Deep down you know I’m right” He smiled triumphantly.

   “He acts differently when he’s around Paris” You retorted, crossing your arms. He rolled his eyes, sighing “I mean it! Did you see how he acts beside her?” You insisted eagerly.

   “Please… He acts differently when he’s around you” He arched his brows, as if to make his point, “That’s how he acts around you! Have you ever seen how he act around her when you’re not around? I mean it. He likes you.” He was serious, and for a moment you couldn’t take his words out of your mind.

   Was that how he acts around you not her?

   “Anyway… I don’t even know why I’m trying to make you understand it” He shrugged “It’s none of my business” He sighed, arching one brow, studying your flabbergasted expression “Though I think I made my point” He chuckled, and you shook your head.

   “No, you didn’t!” You blurted out; too eager “He likes her! He has to” You decided, settling with your previous beliefs “She likes him, you heard it yourself! And I’m sure he likes her back… They just need some alone time to get together” He sighed in defeat, giving up on the idea. As you prepared to get up, wondering where you should go to rest, he tilted his head, grabbing your wrist again. You looked down at him, and he bit his lips in doubt before speaking up.

   “Do you want to watch it together?” He asked, taking his phone out of his pocket “You can read your book too if you prefer… The tree is big enough for both of us” He smiled friendly, and you had to smile back. It was the first time he was being friendly without any suggestive or teasing remarks attached.

   “I’d love to” You nodded, crawling to the tree trunk, leaning against it. He laid down again, resting his head on his backpack and giving up on pretending to be studying, raising his phone right up his eyes, so he would be watching it in peace. You opened your book, prepared to re-read it since you had actually read it over the weekend, noticing as he glanced at you.

   “Is that book this good for you to prefer reading it instead of watching something?” He asked cautiously, and you smirked at him.

   “Yes, it is… I think you should try it” You offered, and he scoffed.

   “No way, I’m going to watch my Drama” He rolled his eyes.

   “We watch it together and then you read my book” You suggested “Then you have to be sincere about it! You can’t just decide your drama was better without trying to read it!” You looked at him accusingly, and he chuckled.

   “What is on for me?” He asked smugly, and this time you rolled your eyes to him.

   “The shame of being so wrong throughout your life that you should hide under a rock” You grimaced, making him laugh “Or maybe I’m the one who should hide under a rock…” You let the sentence hanging in the air, and he smiled confidently.

   “Deal” He agreed. You closed the book, resting it on his stomach as you laid down, resting your head on your hand, elbowing the grass.

[apparitionism]

Why

I want to wish a very happy Gift Exchange Day to @mysensitiveside ​ ! This gift, a short and sweet AU, will keep on giving for a while, in that I wasn’t able to fling the whole thing across the finish line for you today. (No surprise, I’m sure, given my posting pace over the past... um... some time.) A second part will appear sooner rather than later, however, and I hope that the whole thing will be to your liking. Thanks of course go to @kla1991 for the organization of the whole  @bering-and-wells-exchange extravaganza... and I do just want to say that, as for my own reasons (reasons as such being quite relevant to this story), I still love Myka and Helena, and everybody in this bar, very much.

Why

“Why are you here?” Myka Bering asked of the dog she discovered in the hallway, gazing up at her, when she opened the door of her apartment one Saturday morning.

The dog blinked.

“Aren’t you Sam’s dog?”

The dog blinked again.

Things happen for a reason.

Myka had always been sure of that. So much so that it had shaped her idea of heaven: surely, the experience of paradise was nothing more, less, or other than finally being in possession of all the reasons.

When she was small, her “WHY?” refrain hadn’t distinguished her from her peers, but while most other children eventually gave up the incessant repetitions of that question, she never did. She discovered early on, however, that knowing whom to ask made an enormous difference in the quality of the answers she received: her mother’s exasperated “Because” was endlessly frustrating, as was her father’s equally unsatisfying “It’s magic.”

Which was why she became a research chemist, her choice of career happening for just that reason: it was always going to be a science of some sort, for the “why” questions—which she tended to ask internally now—had answers, if she put enough effort into finding them.

So it struck her as strange, that morning, to find herself asking “why” of a neighbor’s dog, out loud. The quality of any answer she got wasn’t likely to be high.

She had never seen the dog this dirty before. He... was it a he? maybe? she thought she’d heard “boy” at some point... had always seemed a little disheveled, his coat fluffed but lopsided, like he always slept on it wrong and nobody bothered with a comb. But never like this. Never with actual dirt.

She picked up the dog—he weighed less than she expected; she hadn’t realized how much of him was fur—and with some trepidation went to knock on Sam’s door.

No answer.

Myka took the dog back to her apartment. “Are you hungry?” she asked him. He blinked.

She had no idea what dogs ate, other than dog food, and she had no dog food.

She discovered that dogs ate several slices of cheese, a ham sandwich, a peanut butter sandwich, and a corn tortilla. Then dogs took a nap, no doubt exhausted from all the eating.

After numerous fruitless attempts at Sam’s door throughout the day, Myka called Mr. Nielsen, the super. “Sam moved out,” she was told. “Couple weeks ago. No forwarding address.”

“But I have his dog.”

“That’s nice of you,” Mr. Nielsen said.

“You don’t understand. I didn’t intend to have his dog.”

“Then maybe it isn’t nice. It’s not my problem either way.” He hung up.

Myka hadn’t liked Sam. He had asked her out, and she had said no, because he made her nervous. Anyone asking her out made her nervous, but this felt... different. She sensed she’d been right to turn him down, for he got visibly offended, in a way that made her even more nervous, such that she avoided him as much as possible afterward. He didn’t seem like a good person. But to move away and leave his dog behind?

She considered taking the dog to the animal shelter. What was she going to do with a dog? “What am I going to do with a dog?” she asked the dog in question. He blinked.

“I guess it’s you and me, dog,” she said after that Saturday turned into a weekend, the weekend into a week, one week into two.

And he looked at her as if to ask not “why?” but “what took you so long?”

She bought a leash. A bed. Actual dog food. So many products. “I’ve never shopped this much for myself,” she told him. She couldn’t decipher his blink in response to that information. Was it “But of course you should buy more for me” or “You should buy more for yourself”?

As it happened, he was a responsibility in ways she had not expected to enjoy. She had to leave work at midday, every day, to go home and walk him. She had that thing to do, and she did it. Her lab neighbor Abigail teased her about the dog being just an excuse to escape the lab, an excuse who probably didn’t even exist. “He’s real,” Myka protested. “I even had to come up with a name for him.”

Abigail laughed. “Sure you did.”

“Leukotriene.”

Pause. “Okay, now I’m convinced. Mostly. But I still want photo evidence.”

It hadn’t occurred to Myka to take a picture of the newly named Leukotriene, but she did so that night. She included a ruler in the photo for scale, lest Abigail mistake him for a Pomeranian, which was the breed—as far as Myka could tell, given her limited dog knowledge—he most resembled. The next day, “That’s him,” she said.

“Your dog.”

“I guess so.”

“He’s really... pretty.”

At home that night, she told him, “Abigail thinks you’re pretty.” He did the blink. “Yes,” she affirmed, “I do too.”

She shortened his name to “Leuko.” He didn’t seem to hate it. Then again, he wasn’t very vocal, positively or negatively.

She took him on walks, increasingly long ones, on the winding trails of the city’s largest park. She had never been a walker, but Leuko was... well, no: he was a trotter. A delighted, peppy trotter. Myka tried to match his bright energy, but she didn’t ever feel the same shine. It made her unaccountably happy, though, to see him that happy.

When she bathed him, he suffered it (no bright energy there), but she had a sense that he knew how impressive he looked when he was clean. His fluffy tan coat expanded into even greater glossy magnificence, an invitation to sink fingers in, and it rewarded the venture.

The best part, though, was when she would sit on the sofa, reading a journal or, less frequently, a novel, and he would lie against her, sighing as she rested her hand against his soft, warm body.

It was easy to forget that Sam had ever existed. Easy to sink into the belief that she and Leuko had always been a team. That this new texture of her life—this sneaky, responsibility-laden velvet—was a reality that had simply been held in abeyance until the right time. And now was that time.

One Saturday, as they walked in a nearly empty park, enjoying an early cold snap, Myka heard from a great distance an exclamation: “Monty!” She wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but suddenly her leash hand was empty, and Leuko was tearing across an open field, toward a solitary female figure, barking, making noise like he’d finally learned, or just remembered, that he had a voice.

Myka took off after him, drawing near at the moment he leapt—yes, leapt—into the woman’s arms.

She was striking, with dark eyes that rhymed with Leuko’s... in fact, she rhymed entirely with him, with his beauty. She looked up from him to Myka, those dark eyes widening, seemingly shocked to find another person present. “This is my dog,” she said, a little halting, as if she were trying the words out. Or as if she were coaxing them back into her mouth from far away.

Myka’s breath seized. “No,” she said, forcing the word out. “He’s my dog.”

“He is not. He’s mine. You can see it.”

Myka could see it. It drove ice in her heart to see it, to see him so ecstatic to see someone else, but it was there to be seen. It was there to be heard, too: Myka would never, she was sure, forget that declarative bark.

“He was lost for so long. How did you come to have him?” the woman asked, and Myka, trying to hide that heart-ice, explained about Sam. The woman said, shortly and with pain, “So that’s what happened.” She didn’t offer anything more, and while Myka wasn’t the most sensitive of souls, she could tell that this was not the sort of thing a stranger could ask any question about, not why or wherefore or anything at all.

A stranger. She was a stranger to both of them now, this woman and her dog, a stranger in their way, on the path in front of them—on a path she never should have been on in the first place. And if there was one thing Myka knew how to do, it was get out of the way.

She tried, mightily, to tell herself that that was what she should do: just step away. Let them carry on down the path. You didn’t have a dog before, and you were fine.

Leuko—Monty—looked at her from his perch in the woman’s arms. He blinked.

In response to that, Myka found herself babbling, “Can I... I mean, would you maybe let me... walk him sometime? Because he and I. I mean, or maybe just me. I. I’ll miss... it all.”

“I’m disinclined to let him out of my sight,” the woman said, with seeming care.

Myka didn’t have to ask why. “I don’t mean alone,” she said. “Just to see him.”

The woman looked at the dog in her arms. Did he blink? Whatever he showed her, it was enough. “All right,” she said. “Next week?” At Myka’s nod, she continued, “I should introduce myself. I’m Helena Wells.”

Myka understood even that was a matter of trust. “I’m Myka Bering,” she said, “and let me give you my number so you—”

“I’d rather not,” Helena Wells said, with the same care.

Not overmuch trust. “I can bring you what I bought for him,” Myka said, and maybe it was a flail to show that Helena Wells did not need to doubt her intentions. “If you want.”

“Thank you, but I still have all his things. Always holding out hope.” She said that with a quirk of her lip that Myka envied. Hope—what was it?

But of course Helena Wells had held out hope. Even after Myka’s own short time with Leuko—Monty—she would have done the same thing. Had he suddenly been gone, had she not known why.

The next Saturday morning, Myka spent some time pondering a very strange question: what do you wear to walk your ex-dog with someone who probably wants to forget that you exist?

The relief Myka felt when Helena and Leuko—Monty—appeared... it nearly felled her. There he is, she thought, and he’s all right. Not that she had expected anything different, but it was a relief. After a week she had not understood as a ratcheting up of anxiety, she at last felt relief.

They walked, side by side, Leuko—no, Monty—leading the way, shining even more brightly than Myka had known he could. “I didn’t intend to have your dog,” Myka started. “I didn’t mean to keep him... I mean, to keep him from you. The super can testify to the timeline, and I—”

“It’s all right,” Helena said. “I see that.”

“But I’m trying to tell you why this happened.”

“It doesn’t matter why. He’s here, and I told you, it’s all right.”

“Of course it matters! You’d care if I did try to steal him.”

“But you didn’t,” Helena said, and her words were gentle. “You cared for him. You didn’t have to.”

That left Myka strangely perplexed, because now, in retrospect, what else could have happened? “Of course I did.”

And Leuko—no, Monty—looked up at her, and he did the blink, and Myka knew what it meant: “Of course you did.”

Meeting, walking. They fell into a regular Saturday-walk schedule. As the weeks progressed, Myka’s anxiety gave way to, made room for, anticipation. Leuko—Monty—never barked when he saw Myka, but he did pull on the leash as she approached and gave her a nuzzle when she knelt to greet him.

“Why did you name him Monty?” Myka asked, one Saturday.

That made Helena smile. “I didn’t. His breeder did.”

“His breeder?”

“He’s a Mittelspitz.”

“He’s... a medium? A medium spitz?” Well, that explained his looking like a Pomeranian.

“Precisely.”

Myka felt dim. “But what does that have to do with being called Monty?”

“Nothing, as far as I know. The breeder named his litter after the stars of A Place in the Sun; he’s Montgomery Clift. His sister is Shelley Winters, and his brother is Elizabeth Taylor.”

“His brother? Why?” Myka really did try to limit the asking of that question out loud, but this seemed extra-justified.

“He’s even more beautiful than Monty.”

Did Monty the Mittelspitz turn his head and harrumph at such blasphemy? Myka surely was imagining that. He must have just seen a squirrel. “Poor Shelley Winters, though,” Myka said.

Helena laughed... and Myka felt that she should name that laugh “Elizabeth Taylor” as well. Helena said, “No, no, she’s pretty too. A remarkably lovely litter, and in fact Shelley was the only one who was show quality. If beauty were all it took, Liz would have ruled the circuit.” Another harrumph. “Don’t pout, darling,” Helena said to the dog, then to Myka, “Why did you name him Leuko?”

“After a peptide,” Myka admitted. “Well, a group of peptides.”

“A peptide.”

That was an implicit “why,” and Myka was strangely comforted. “I’m a chemist,” she said.

“A chemist.” Helena furrowed her brow. “How funny that I didn’t know that. How have we not got around to professions?”

Myka wanted to say, “Because when we get close to anything about our real lives, one or both of us backs away.” They still had no contact outside the park, and even as they shared and deepened this strange long-walk familiarity, Myka did not know where the line was. Had it shifted? If not, would it ever? She tried, very cautiously, “I don’t know. Will you... will you tell me yours?”

“I teach writing.”

For some reason, Myka couldn’t hold back her next question, even though it was not justified: “Why?”

“I have knowledge and expertise to impart. Due to having studied writing. And having made a living in the past as a writer myself.”

“That’s a good reason,” Myka said, and she thought, That’s more than you’ve said about yourself in weeks of walks. Was something different about this day?

“Thank you. Though I may not need your imprimatur, I’m pleased to have it.”

Was she... teasing? “I like good reasons,” Myka tried to explain.

“Good reasons. Recognizing them is not inapplicable to the craft of writing.” Helena said this with a funny little bow of her head.

Myka’s facial capillaries flooded with blood.

She knew why, but she hid the answer in her heart, for she remembered all too well Helena’s desolate “So that’s what happened.”

On one of their earlier walks, they had run into Abigail. “How’s little Leukotriene?” she asked. “Or I guess he’s not so little. That’s weird; I thought he was a Pom.”

Myka resisted the impulse to remind her of the ruler in the photo.

The next day, “Who’s your girlfriend?” Abigail asked.

It was the first time Myka really registered that she had continued her habit of going home in the middle of the day. To no purpose at all, she went home, stood in her kitchen, ate a sandwich that no one else wanted any of, and then went back to the lab. It was not a responsibility anymore, and it did nothing for her. She resolved to stop.

“Not my girlfriend,” Myka said, but she was appalled at herself: for a rash moment, she had wanted to let Abigail believe otherwise.

“Walking your dog with her?”

“Not my dog.” On that point, of course, Myka wished she could let herself believe otherwise.

“Pretty sure the dog matched that picture you showed me.”

“He’s her dog.”

“You were trying to pass your girlfriend’s dog off as yours?”

“She’s not my girlfriend. And he was my dog... for a minute.”

Walking in the park every week was not a responsibility. It was a reward.

And as Myka enjoyed her reward, each week, she studied Helena’s face, listened to her words. She tried to tell herself she was merely continuing to assess Helena’s relationship with Leuko. No: Monty. And she was doing that... but she was doing so much more.

How much could Myka continue to hide in her heart? And for how long?

As if in answer, the Saturday following their “professions” discussion, Helena (and Leuko—no, Monty) failed to appear. Myka, desolate at the absence of them both, walked by herself. It was terrible.

The park was empty of them the following week as well. Still, Myka walked, taking the isolation as her punishment for having misunderstood lines and crossing them, for having been so foolish as to let any part of her secret heart show on her face.

The aftermath of that second lonely walk left Myka restless, anxious. Should she try to find Helena and ask her why she had so abruptly decided against... whatever they were doing? Could she then beg her to reconsider walking a dog together to no purpose? “I’ll stop wanting anything more than that,” Myka thought to tell her. “I promise.”

But of course trying to find her was out of the question; if Helena didn’t want even to walk with Myka, she surely didn’t want to be stalked by her.

So Myka did the only thing she could do: the next Saturday, she returned again to the park. And she hoped.

TBC

[supersilversleuth]

To Kill, To Die, or, To Live by SuperSilverSpy

Fandoms:DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Hurt Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson-centric, Dick Grayson Whump, Whump, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, I have used these tags so much lately, I could probably write them in my sleep, Hurt No Comfort, maybe? - Freeform, I don’t remember writing any comfort…, Hurt, Angst, Jason Todd is a good bro, usually, sometimes?, idk - Freeform, he wants to be a good bro in this fic, Possession, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Whumptober 2021, SuperSilverSpy, SilverGrayson

Summary:

Red Hood showed up in the Batcave after helping out with a quick op one night. Everyone seemed to be looking at him with distrust and suspicion, even though he’d just helped them out. Everyone except Dick, of course, who offered him a tight smile, but whose expression was otherwise unreadable.

Kill kill kill...Dick Grayson shall die...

“What? Why the oh so serious faces?” Jason’s voice drawled.

OR Jason wakes up one morning, and there’s a voice in his head screaming for the death of one Dick Grayson

No. 4 - TRUST FALL “Do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed

Published: 2021-10-04 Completed:2021-10-04 Words: 3091 Chapters: 3/3

Chapter One: To Kill

It happened out of the blue one day.

Jason woke in a cold sweat, but he didn’t immediately sit up in bed. In fact, he didn’t move at all. He just stared up at his ceiling, a single thought running through his head, a single emotion coursing through his veins.

Dick Grayson must die.

Distantly, a part of him felt appalled at the notion, but most of him was running with it. Anger clouded his mind but it was unlike any he’d ever felt before. It was different, colder somehow, not like the usual searing heat of pit madness.

He heard a new voice in his head spewing insults about the Golden Boy left and right. Some felt familiar, as if taken from Jason’s own mind. Most of them were new, and he did his best to ignore the most unsavory ones.

He didn’t actually hate Dickface, did he? N—

Jason sat up, and began preparing for the day ahead of him. Put bread in the toaster, remember the meetings he has with several of his informants— Dick Grayson deserves to die— now that didn’t sound right…what was he thinking about again? Put butter on the toast when it’s done, start eating, think about that case that’s been stumping him lately— take Nightwing hostage —what was that? He does have a pretty busy nightlife… Do the morning’s dishes, brush his teeth, get dressed. He had a drug ring to bust tonight, that’s right. Some scumbags needed a little visit from the esteemed crime lord Red Hood— kill them all— what? N—

Jason went through the rest of his day in a haze. He met with some informants, gave food to some people on the streets. He got everything done quickly and efficiently, he even managed to make time to buy groceries. With every interaction, he acted just like he normally would. His movements were comfortable, voice at just the right level to suit each situation. People seemed easily swayed by him, to do as he asked. And yet...he felt detached somehow, as if watching through someone else’s eyes—someone who acted exactly like him.

He couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it though, couldn’t open his mouth and say something out of character, or just talk to himself when no one was in sight. Distantly, a part of him felt alarmed, something was just off.

Still, he made it through the day just fine. Whatever had been bothering him earlier that morning seemed to fade, and he started to feel as if nothing had changed. And nothing had, right? He didn’t remember anything different between today and yesterday…

Night came, and the Red Hood went out to save the day, or at least crash some a**hats’ day, he wasn’t picky. Everything went to plan too, which made him elated. The bats could say all they wanted about him, but no one could deny his clear skill and competency.

Everything was going well, the drug traffickers were all passed out on the ground and Jason was getting ready to call the police, when it happened.

His thumb withdrew from the call button, burner phone slipping back into his pocket. His hands went instead to his guns, and he felt his body turning, moving towards the unconscious bodies of some of the worst that he’d taken down. Kill. Kill. Kill. Chanted that new voice in his head. Kill them all, they deserve it. Just like Dick Grayson.

What? N—No, that didn’t make sense. Why was—Why was his hand still moving? What was his finger doing on the trigger? Jason didn’t understand. I don’t want to kill them, he thought. He pushed against that voice, that—that presence in his head.

It pushed back .

Jason was left scrambling internally, as he watched his own arm lift and aim. A body lay on the ground, motionless where splashes of crimson decorated the floor.

Jason felt as if he’d been booted out of his own body, like his actions weren’t his to control anymore. He felt sick, but no bile would rise in his throat. No feeling would stir in his stomach. He didn’t understand.

Two bodies, on the ground, it was like he was seeing double, than triple, then several many more. He started to lose count. At one point, he noticed there was a knife in his hand, that his face was twisted in an expression of satisfaction. His hands were covered in blood, and so were his pants. He’d have a hard time washing that out, Jason realized distantly. Death here, death there, death death everywhere, said the voice in his head. He knew he was feeling things, actual emotions. But they didn’t really seem to be there . They were foreign, unfamiliar, not his own. Jason could think of all the synonyms he knew to describe just how out of place the anger and the bloodlust and the malicious satisfaction felt. How out of place he himself felt. Kicked out of his own mind, out of control of his own body.

Even with past experiences in mind control and mind-twisting pits of torture, this still was like nothing he had ever felt before.

—

Jason didn’t know what day it was, what was happening, he just couldn’t tell. He couldn’t seem to keep track . It had been like this ever since the massacre, since he’d fought and lost the battle in his own mind.

Red Hood showed up in the Batcave after helping out with a quick op one night. Everyone seemed to be looking at him with distrust and suspicion, even though he’d just helped them out. Everyone except Dick, of course, who offered him a tight smile, but whose expression was otherwise unreadable.

Kill kill kill...Dick Grayson shall die...

“What? Why the oh so serious faces?” Jason’s voice drawled.

“Those drug traffickers on Monday,” began the big bat himself. Jason’s hand waved as if to wipe it all away. “Lay off it, B. I promise it wasn’t me, alright? I left before whoever murdered them all showed up.” The Replacement was frowning at him, and the Demon brat was scowling his way as well. Bruce thinned his lips, looking at him in that insufferable judgmental way he had. Jason felt himself scoffing, “I don’t owe you fools anything. ”

Please, he thought, this isn’t me. Please, I know it sounds like me but I swear it isn’t. His body went straight for his motorcycle, hopping on and driving away with the squealing of tires.

There are TWO POSSIBLE ENDINGS, the first one is Major Character Death, the second is “everybody lives”

Read the next chapter for tragedy, read the chapter after that for somewhat happy ending

Chapter Two: To Die

“Hey Jay? You alright?”

The prey has fallen into the trap...

Jason felt his head swivel in Dick’s direction, “What are you doing here, Dickface?”

“I don’t know, you just seemed to be acting a little off yesterday. I was just wondering if—”

“I’m fine.” Jason’s voice growled. “And I didn’t kill those people. So there’s nothing for you to report back to ol’ daddy bats up there on his high horse.” Dick scowled briefly, but then his expression smoothed. “I’m not here to spy on you, Jay. And I know it wasn’t you who killed those people.” His brother looked at him steadily, right in the eyes. No! Dick, you have to get away from me, he wants to kill y —

“It wasn’t you,” continued Dick, “It was whatever's controlling you.”

For a moment, Jason panicked. But whoever it was in his head let up quite a bit, and Jason suddenly felt lighter than air. It was like the first taste of water after days in the desert. Like he could finally breathe after an eternity of going without.

“Wha—” Jason stumbled, knees feeling weak. Dick rushed forward, catching him as he fell. “No...N—No, Dick, you can’t be here. ‘m a killer, that thing in my head, it—it wants to—”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here.” His hand carded through Jason’s hair. “We’ll figure this out, okay? We’ll figure this out.”

“It…it seems to have left me.” Jason said, voice trembling in awe as he flexed his fingers. It’d been so long…

—

Dick smiled down at his brother.

“It’s okay, Jay.” He said, “It must’ve fled when it realized I knew it was there.”

“How…how did you know, anyways?” Jason asked.

“I just…I had a feeling. You were acting off, and that look in your eye…”

“Thanks, Dick,” his little brother replied, but then his voice changed, sounding almost…fearful? “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” He asked, straining his ears, “I don’t—”

There was a loud roar and the sound of large, stomping feet. Dick frantically looked around, noticing as shadows creeped in from underneath the door. The air was charged with magic, power flowing throughout the room.

“It’s back,” whispered Jason, clutching Dick’s arm, “we should run.”

“Yeah,” Dick said, as if in a daze, “let’s go.”

It seemed so surreal, the supernatural monsters bursting through the door. Dick wasn’t sure what surprised him so much about it, he dealt with this kind of thing every other day. It’s just…

“Dickie,” said Jason, pulling him towards the window. “Snap out of it, they’re gaining on us.”

He shook his head, looking back—and yeah, the strange magical creatures were right behind them.

Jason jumped through the window, Dick following closely behind. They fired their grappling guns, arriving on the roof opposite in what felt like the blink of an eye.

“Hurry,” said a voice and—oh, it was Jason. It was coming out of Jason’s mouth, right? It must be Jason’s. “We should go that way.”

Dick looked his little brother in the eyes, grounding himself there, before following Jason’s lead as they ran across rooftops.

Dick felt like he was doing everything underwater, but it was…nice. Pretty great actually. He barely even noticed the burn in his legs, or how the monsters chasing them had odd-looking shadows.

Each time he looked back, all he saw was claws and teeth. Masses of fur and strange golden markings.

They paused for breath a few blocks away.

Dick wondered at Jason’s plan. It felt like there was something he should be doing…“Jay? What should we do? Where do we go?”

“That thing in my head seemed afraid of tall places…”

“The—The Wayne Enterprises building.” Dick replied almost immediately.

“Of course,” said Jason, bumping him with his shoulder, “How about a race?”

Dick grinned back at him, “Sure, why not.”

Adrenaline flooded his veins, and for a moment, he almost forgot about the monsters chasing them.

Jason nodded to him, and then they took off, running and jumping, grappling all across the city, heading for the tallest building around. Dick pressed himself to go faster, run harder, jump stronger .

He could see Jason out of the corner of his eye, also going considerably fast.

Jason wasn’t the only one Dick noticed, he also spotted several of them on Jason’s tail. The monsters seemed to move just as fast as they did. He could only hope his little brother could go fast enough to outrun them.

Dick reached the WE building first, skidding to a stop on the roof. Jason arrived soon after.

The monsters gathered a roof away, preparing to jump.

“I—I don’t understand, I thought you said they wouldn't follow us up here.” Dick looked at Jason, searching for answers in his expression.

His little brother’s features were soft, his eyes glittered with something strange and otherworldly. His voice was smooth and heavy with something familiar… “It’s okay, I have a plan, but there’s no time. Dick, do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you, Little Wing.”

Darkness creeped up along the edges of the building, sliding onto the roof. Claws scraped against the ground, glowing gold eyes began to surround them. There was a single opening, a small bit of edge that had nothing on it.

Jason smiled, grabbing Dick’s grapple gun. And then pushed him off the roof.

Dick Grayson fell over 1,000 feet to the ground, all the while believing his brother would catch him.

Above, on the roof of Wayne Tower, Jason Todd’s eyes flashed gold.

Chapter Three: To Live

“Hey Jay? You alright?”

The prey has fallen into the trap...

Jason felt his head swivel in Dick’s direction, “What are you doing here, Dickface?”

“I don’t know, you just seemed to be acting a little off yesterday. I was just wondering if—”

“I’m fine.” Jason’s voice growled. “And I didn’t kill those people. So there’s nothing for you to report back to ol’ daddy bats up there on his high horse.” Dick scowled briefly, but then his expression smoothed. “I’m not here to spy on you, Jay. And I know it wasn’t you who killed those people.” His brother looked at him steadily, right in the eyes. No! Dick, you have to get away from me, he wants to kill y —

“It wasn’t you,” continued Dick, “It was whatever's controlling you.”

For a moment, Jason panicked. But whoever it was in his head let up quite a bit, and Jason suddenly felt lighter than air. It was like the first taste of water after days in the desert. Like he could finally breathe after an eternity of going without.

“Wha—” Jason stumbled, knees feeling weak. Dick rushed forward, catching him as he fell. “No...N—No, Dick, you can’t be here. ‘m a killer, that thing in my head, it—it wants to—”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here.” His hand carded through Jason’s hair. “This thing is here to test me Jay, I didn’t have a choice. I know you didn’t either, and I am so, so sorry for that Little Wing. We’ll figure this out, okay? We’ll figure this out.”

Jason opened his mouth to reply, when suddenly the presence was back, the voice along with it. Jason could feel his consciousness collapsing back, dissociating once again. He vaguely registered as one of his hidden daggers was swiftly drawn, and pressed harshly against Dick’s neck.

“Do you trust me?” asked Jason’s voice, a smirk spread across his face.

The question was meant to be mocking, but Dick answered seriously, “Of course, I know you’re still in there, Jay. I trust you.”

—

They stood on the roof of the WE building. Whoever was controlling Jason had used his strength to give Dick a good beating, and sent a picture of the aftermath to the bats. It was only a matter of time before they showed.

“One as special as Dick Grayson, must be able to trust at least one member of his family. Jason Todd is least likely to accept this trust, which makes my job so much easier. I look forward to his death,” said Jason’s voice while they waited.

Dick, all tied up, sporting a black eye and what were likely bruised ribs—grinned like a maniac. “I recognized your presence, didn’t I? I could tell there was something off with him, you nasty little f***er. You may think you chose your victim well, but you’re making a big mistake—Jay will pull through for me, and you will be torn away as if it were nothing.”

Wow, Dick just sounded so—so confident in Jason’s ability to do whatever it was he was supposed to do. Jason wasn’t sure he’d be able to overpower this thing, let alone destroy it.

“The rest of your so-called family will arrive any minute now, will you weep at their demise?”

Dick scowled, “The rules that you are bound to state that you can’t kill any of my loved ones before me.”

“I may not be able to kill them, but I’ve been doing this awhile, and I know all the loopholes to this little game.”

Behind them, the bats touched down on the roof. Jason felt himself turn to face them. It seemed that Bruce, Tim, Damian, and Steph all showed up for the party.

“Here to save your favorite Golden child?”

“What do you want?” Demanded Bruce, stoic as ever.

They never cared about you , none of them do. Hissed the voice in his head. Nobody trusts you

Nobody trusts you , Jason thought back at it, you murderous lying b****** .

It chuckled, ah, but it is not my face I’m wearing. It’s your's.

Outloud, Jason’s voice addressed the bats, “This is the price you pay for not trusting me, for letting Dick down. You didn’t even notice there was something different about him, did you? You didn’t even notice when Jason Todd was no longer Jason Todd.”

Bruce and Dick were the only ones who didn’t look confused at the words. Dick, because he seemed to know what was going on, and Bruce, because he was, well, Bruce. Batman’s face was as stoic as ever.

Jason felt his face twist into something surely ugly and murderous-looking.

Power surged through him, coming from seemingly nowhere. But Jason could feel it at his fingertips, being pushed into him and pulled out, he had no control over its course. The air around him became charged with magic, and then the bats were engulfed in a bright, golden light.

A moment later, Jason's eyes opened to find that all four of them were frozen in various positions and turned into a shiny golden color, standing still like statues.

The look of horror on Dick’s face hurt to look at, when Jason felt himself turn back to the man.

Quickly, Dick’s expression turned to that of anger, “What did you do to them?” he seethed. “Turn them back!”

“It’s too late, Dick Grayson. Once you are dead, your family will remain this way forever.”

Jason’s arms reached out, grabbing Dick and picking him up.

His feet took him to the edge of the roof, holding Dick out over the ground far, far below.

“J—Jay, listen to me, you can fight this. I know you can. You’re still in there, I believe in you.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Jason watched as he dropped his brother over the edge.

Time seemed to stop.

No! He thought, pushing back as hard as he could against that malicious presence in his mind. Jason pictured Dick’s face, looking at him sincerely, a bead of blood forming where Jason’s own knife grazed his throat. “I trust you ,” he’d said.

Jason followed him over the edge before he even knew what he was doing. Shooting out his grapple instinctively, cutting through the air rapidly as he fell.

This is going to hurt , he thought, as he set himself on a collision course with Dick, but I think we’ll live.

[dazenightmare]

Fucking Perish Together

Sneaky bastard, that is what I am >:)

Sequel to Birds of a Feather. Doesn’t make as much sense without it, but it can probably be read as a standalone.

Anyways, here’s the misadventures of Tubbo.

T.W.: Cursing, cussing, kidnapping, technically getting kidnapped, yelling, shouting, screaming, let me know if I need to add more!

~~~~~~~~~~

Tubbo has been with them for five months.

Things have been getting easier for them since this addition, in more ways than one.

Tubbo, unlike Ranboo, was much more willing to learn Common to talk with them. Eventually, they realize whatever they teach Tubbo, they teach Ranboo too, after Wilbur accidentally walked in on them going over words with each other.

When they both are finally able to make short sentences, there’s pride. However, it is a surprise hearing the different accents the two had. Especially since nobody in their little circle talked the way Ranboo did.

They also learn that Tubbo is unnecessarily strong for someone his size. That’s helped them more than you could imagine, between battling, mining, and moving cargo around.

Tubbo also attaches himself to Tommy, much like how he’s done to Ranboo. For the longest time he switched between hanging out with them, and never liked being without neither for very long. While they account this may be a bit detrimental to Tubbo, it’s helping Ranboo come out of his shell, and Tommy seems genuinely happier with the lil fellow around, so they brush it off for now.

When Tubbo finally stopped spending every waking moment with the two, he gradually started to spend some time alone. Naturally, this worried everyone as Tubbo disappeared for extended periods of time.

Tubbo tired out easily, so what if he got far and was too tired to come back before night? He’s smaller than a lot of mobs, so what if too many swarm him to deal with? His only defense was his box, so what if he got separated from it?

They learn to let these worries go as after a couple weeks Tubbo showed them an EXP farm with a wide smile, then clung to Ranboo and Tommy as if nothing happened.

Of course, just like with every other member of the family they gained, there were downsides too...

——

It was night time, and everybody sat near the pub, currently watching Tommy jokingly hate on Ranboo with smiles. Something about Tubbo, who left to get some more fire wood and should be back any minute now.

At the thought, Niki frowned at the shore, glancing around.

Tubbo should’ve been back now, surely. Wonder what was keeping the Shulk.

Meanwhile, Tubbo hid in a burrow beneath a tree, glaring up at the night sky, staring at the swooping animal. Phantoms, the natural predator for any Shulks living in the overworld. Shulks preferred sleeping in their boxes, since sleeping in beds was too open, plus beds always blew up in the End, leaving old habits to die hard. Phantoms apparently take issue with this.

Okay, Tubbo thought to himself, eyeing the flying bastard. I am fucking freezing, and I won’t be safe until I get to my box or it becomes day. I am not spending my night under this fucking tree.

Then Tubbo turns his gaze to the flickering light far off, where he can just barely make out his friends.

“Waiting, running, waiting, running,” he mumbled to himself, looking back and forth between the predator and his friends.

Silently making his decision, Tubbo grimaces, picking up the sticks he gathered for the campfire. Before he can think it through, he starts sprinting across the clearing, screaming as loud as he could in hopes of going faster.

He can hear the screech of the phantom as it pursues him, and Tubbo’s screams turn a bit more genuine.

Back at the fire, his friends start to question where his is.

“He’s been gone for a while now,” Ranboo noted, holding his friend’s box in concern. “Should we check on him?”

Before anyone can throw in their nickel, Tubbo’s screaming makes it to their ears. They all look over to see the lad halfway across the field, just in time to see a phantom fucking snatch him.

“HOLY SHIT,” someone shouts, as they witness the phantom fly back into the sky, holding their screaming companion in it’s mouth.

“LET ME GO YOU FUCKING SELF-RIGHTEOUS PRICK! I’LL FUCKING STRANGLE YOU YOU GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING WANKER! GODDAMN BONEY ASS WHORE!” They hear Tubbo shout. Some of them idly wonder how the Hell Tubbo learned such words. Most of them are panicking.

Philza takes off into the air while everyone shouts random things, most of it being overtaken by Tubbo swearing like a sailor. It takes a while before Philza is able to pry Tubbo out of its mouth, kill the phantom, and land with a shaken Tubbo in his hands.

Tubbo says nothing as he reaches for his box and climbs inside with a traumatized look. The box slams closed in Ranboo’s hands. They all stare at the box in silence as it opens a moment later, sticks being hurled out before it’s closed again.

——

“Piss sheep, piss sheep,” Tubbo chanted under his breath, pushing his box into the water before hopping in like it was a boat. “Visiting the piss sheep. Piss sheep, piss sheep.”

He paddled with his hands before getting tired. It was only when Tubbo was in the middle of the lake, without food, that he realized something.

“... I can’t fucking swim,” he stared into the water, bobbing up and down in his box, far away from any land. Tubbo sat there bobbing for half a day in shame before his using his comm.

“Hello?”

“Hey Niki,” Tubbo started, still staring into the water. He looks in the direction of Niki’s lagoon. “So... I can’t swim.”

“Uh... yeah?” Niki warily responded. He heard Wilbur on the other end of the comm, talking, and Niki whispering an “I don’t know”.

“You however, can swim.”

“Yes...?”

“Therefore, I am asking for your assistance.”

“Assistance with what?”

“... I didn’t want to say it, but I forgot I can’t swim. I am currently in my box in the middle of the lake without food, and have been sitting here in self-pity since this morning. Please help me.”

The line immediately went dead, making him frown. It didn’t take much to figure out why as he heard many people shouting from the lagoon. Tubbo merely shrugged and waited. Eventually Niki’s head popped out of the water in concern.

“Are you okay?!”

“Nothing but a broken dignity, thankfully,” Tubbo deadpanned. Niki stressed a bit more before pushing his box towards the lagoon as she swam.

It didn’t take too long before they were in the lagoon, Wilbur and Tommy immediately looking over him once he reached shore.

“How the fuck did you forget you can’t swim?” Tommy asked after they were sure Tubbo was only hungry.

“... I don’t want to talk about it.”

——

“Did you know shulker boxes function like chests?” Philza said as he built. Wilbur tilted his head.

“No.”

“Yeah! I’m pretty sure Shulk boxes work in that way too!”

“Huh...”

Later that day, Wilbur found Tubbo walking around, following Ranboo who held his box.

“Hey Tubbo!”

“Yeah?”

“What do you keep in your box?” Wilbur asked, eyebrows furrowing. He wondered what could possibly be in such a space.

Tubbo lit up before making grabby hands towards his box. Once it was handed to him, he reached inside and pulled out nine stacks of flowers, showing them off to Wilbur proudly. Wilbur stared. This is not what he expected.

Wilbur teared up.

“That is just fucking adorable. You are adorable and I hate you.”

——

Today, an unstoppable force met an immovable object.

Or, in Tubbo’s case, a solid being met a not-so-solid but not-quite-liquid being.

He had just been minding his damn business, picking flowers in a field when suddenly he got fucking stepped on. As if that wasn’t bad enough, it was the new hybrid named Charlie, who was a slime. Now, Tubbo was STUCK in CHARLIE SLIMECICLE’S FOOT.

The worst part? THE FUCKER DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE! JUST KEPT ON WALKING!

Tubbo felt nothing but misery, being submerged in this foot, not being able to move and waiting for someone to notice he was here. They noticed he was gone, but not with them.

He had to sit here, and watch everybody search for him for the entire day, more and more worried. They found Tubbo’s box in the field he was stolen from, and now had it as they met at the lake to discuss it.

They sat there for about an hour discussing it after a whole day of search. The sun was setting, and just as Tubbo lost hope, Jack glanced down and managed to see him.

“HOLY FUCK!” Jack shouted as he flinched. If Tubbo could roll his eyes he would. The next twenty minutes was everyone freaking out as they tried to get him out of the foot.

Eventually Tommy managed to get him out, and after breathing heavily, Tubbo glared at Charlie.

“YOU SLIMY ASS BITCH! I’VE BEEN STUCK IN YOUR GODDAMN FOOT ALL DAY! TODAY WAS FLOWER DAY YOU BLOODY CUNT! YOU’RE LUCKY I CANNOT FUCKING HIT YOU OR YOU’D BE DEAD WHERE YOU STAND! WATCH WHERE YOU’RE WALKING!”

——

“Tubboooooo,” Tommy whined, laying on Tubbo’s box. “I’m sorryyyyyyy...”

“Vwoop.”

“He says ‘fuck off’,” Ranboo translated, watching from nearby. Tommy just groaned more.

“Tubbo... I’m really sorry... please come out...”

“Vwoop.”

“That’s a no.”

“Tubboooooooo...”

[wann-der-lusst]

Survived in the darkness of the tunnel

by Chabelita Alvarado

I woke up in the morning with the alarm clock. I quickly made a way in the hall to the bathroom. I did my usual routine in the morning and got ready to go to school.

I walked downstairs to eat a quick breakfast with mom and dad. Smiling to myself and munching on the last piece of bacon. I made a way down the sidewalk, the cold air stinging my cheeks, and towards the subway.

I was halfway through my walk to the subway station when my phone started vibrating in my pocket. I pulled out my phone, I saw a chat on messenger that came from my annoying best friend.

My best friend, Jane, just told me through chat that Wade Rivas was single. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. That's what she had to tell me?! As if I care.

Well, if there was one thing Jane would wake up this early for, it would be Wade Rivas. Tunasan High School's very own stereotypical badass who just happened to have every female in the school drooling at his feet, and unfortunately that included my best friend. I pity for Jane, poor thing.

I just chatted that "let's see each other at school and spill me the tea".

I slipped my phone back into my pocket smiling at my idiotic excuse for a best friend and looked up to see that I was at the subway station.

Sighing I found myself a seat towards the back as far away from everyone else as possible. I hated when I went out in public and the public was actually there.

It was only after I had sat down and was about to pull out my pair of headphones ready to expertly ignore everyone, that I realized who was sitting right across from me looking like someone had definitely had a bad day.

Sitting there, arms crossed, and dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, was none other than Wade Rivas.

I didn't realize I was staring at him that long until a pair of green eyes met mine, followed by the harshest glare I've received.

Embarrassed, I quickly averted my eyes and turned back to my phone and headphones. My embarrassment turned into curiosity though. Why was he riding the subway? The last time I checked he had a car.

I put my headphones in and played a song of All About You by Taeyeon. I tried to feed my wandering thoughts, and prepare for the thirty-minute ride.

I once glanced over at Wade. He was still staring at me. Although this time that confused expression was no longer on his face. Instead, it was replaced by an amused one.

I didn't buy to talk to him. We've been going to the same school for just about four years, and in all that Wade and I had never crossed paths.

To kill and waste some time, I approached him. "Why are you staring at me?"

"Weren't you just staring at me?" he said. Hmm. His voice, it made sense that many girls admire him.

"I'm not staring, I'm… just… not blinking." I protested.

He shook his head and fixed those eyes on me again.

"Then why were you 'not blinking' at me?

"Why do you care? You used to be girls staring at you." I said. Okay, I admitted that I am quite attractive to him.

"Of course I'm used to girls staring at me. I'm asking why you're staring at me. You don't even throw me a glance at school." Wade said.

That caught me off guard. I was an average girl in the school. So, he knew who I was? I had to remind myself that I didn't care whether he noticed me or not.

"I was just curious." I said bringing myself from my thoughts.

"About?" he prompted.

"Why are you here? Riding the subway I mean. Don't you have a car?"

"That's none of your business." He snapped as he turned to look in the other direction. Woah, a sudden change of his mood. I can't bear him, god.

Aha! He wasn't in a good mood because of his ex. Now I know. I decided to take pity on him. "I'm sorry, I just heard about your, uhm, break up?" I said with sympathy.

"What are you doing Chayo? Why are you trying to be nice?" he said.

Now that really shocked me. I wasn't pretending! It wasn't like I was a mean person. I was nice all the time. Or at least I thought I was. Second thing, I'm shocked he knew my name. We were not uttering a single word to each other through high school and this our first time to casually talk.

"What do you mean, why am I trying to be nice?" I asked, a little offended.

"I mean we haven't said so much as one word to each other throughout high school. Why are you talking to me now? Let alone trying to be nice to me? If I'm not wrong, I was under the impression that you couldn't stand me. If it's just cause you feel for me, don't." he said while completely facing me.

My mouth actually dropped open. What kind of reputation was going around about me?

"It's not that I can't stand you. It's just that I wasn't about to drool at your feet just so I could get a chance to talk to you". I said.

Wade was silent for a moment as he seemed to think this over.

"I don't know why I'm even telling you this, but as crazy as it sounds Amber was the first girl I was really serious about. I mean there was a girl before that but that had about a snowball's chance in hell of happening."

"What? There was a girl that The Wade Rivas didn't have a chance with? I need to meet her and shake her hand." I said, teasing him about that.

First time, we talked like a friend. We'd finally talked and on a subway of all places, kinda strange. However, we were comfortable with each other.

Our conversation interrupted when the subway train suddenly came to stop. The awkward and embarrassing filling caused my body sway to the left and body bumped into Wade's and seeing as my hands were currently shoved into my pockets, I couldn't brace myself for it. So, instead Wade ended up with his hands placed on my arms to keep me from toppling over face first into his lap.

My face heated up. It looked like a tomato.

My moment of embarrassment was changed in fear. Our light mood ended abruptly when the subway doors suddenly slid open and instead of passengers boarding, five masked and hooded figures made their way inside.

They were all wearing dark jeans and hoodies that concealed their faces. Each one carried a black duffle bag. Flirt out of the five figures silently made their way into the other cars leaving just one behind. The lone figure stood in the middle of the subway car and dropped the duffle bag with a loud thud, gaining the attention of all the other passengers.

Silently, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a black handgun.

Screams erupted all around me as everyone laid their eyes on the weapon. I sighed in fear, I couldn't believe that this was happening.

I felt the train begin to move again and I let my eyes wander to the left, trying to see through the window into the next car.

I observed all the passengers, they were all afraid. Screams were still ringing out around me and I had to suppress the urge to yell for everybody to shut up.

A gunshot rang throughout the small space causing me to almost jump out of my seat. My ears were ringing and when I looked up to the figure holding the gun in the air with their index finger wrapped around the trigger.

Everyone was silent now.

"Now that I have your attention I'd like to properly introduce myself." The figure pulled off the hood that had been covering their head and face, revealing a creepy flesh colored mask with holes cut out for the eyes and mouth and a shaggy mess of short greasy black hair on top of his head. When he spoke his voice was muffled by the mask but nonetheless I could still hear that it was deep and rough, like a smoker's voice.

"You can call me Rad." He continued.

I frowned at that. What kind of a criminal introduces themselves to their victims? I mean I doubted that if I made it out of this alive and went to the police that they'd have someone named Rad in the system, but still.

"Now first thing first, we need to get a few things straight. Any of you scream again, you die. Simple as that, understand?" He warned.

When no one answered, he shot the gun into the air again causing everyone to jump but no one screamed.

"I guess you all understand. This ride will go by a lot more smoothly if you all just cooperate." He added.

No one dared move suspicious. Wade and I kept our mouth to not say anything for our safety. Rad walked back and forth in the small confined space of the train car, switching the gun from his right hand, to his left, and then back again.

I wondered what he was doing exactly. If he was here to blow people's heads off then why wasn't he? I hated the fact that we were waiting here not knowing what would happen next. As if he could sense my impatience with him, Rad spun around and glared at me through his mask. Or at least I thought he was glaring at me, but I couldn't really tell with the mask on.

"You." Rad said pointing the gun at me.

I froze and clenched my hands into tight fists as I stared wide eyed, not at Rad, but at the barrel of the gun.

"What's your name?" Rad asked.

"Chayo." I said quietly.

"Chayo...Why don't you go ahead and stand up Chayo." Rad said kindly. I hated it when he say my name. I gave an involuntary shudder.

I was about to force myself to stand, even if it was against my better judgement, when I felt Wade grip my left hand, keeping me in my seat.

I glanced at Wade and gave him a questioning look.

"Why do you want her to stand?" Wade asked while narrowing his eyes.

I wanted to slap my hand over Wade's big mouth.

"I thought we already went through this. You don't speak… Unless. You're. Spoken. To." Rad ground out the last words slowly, and I doubted he would remind Wade.

"Wade please…" I begged quietly. I stood up even though I highly doubted it. "Obviously your girlfriend has more sense than you." Rad said while tilting his head to the side.

I almost opened my mouth to tell him that Wade was not my boyfriend, but I kept it shut. I wanted to live.

I slowly walked up to Rad and stood there, waiting.

Then I waited for more than two minutes. He said nothing, did nothing, just stood there staring at me. I couldn't keep my mouth shut anymore. He was making me anxious and when I became anxious I also got a really bad case of word vomit.

"Are we just going to stand here and stare at each other?"

After I regretted what I just said, my eyes instantly darted down to Rad's clenched fits and before I could look back at his masked face, I felt his hand connect with my jaw, hard.

The force of his punch made me bite down on my tongue as I stumbled back from the impact, my hand covering my jaw. The train car seemed like it was suddenly bathed in bright white lights, and I reached my free hand out to try and find something to steady myself. I could taste something metallic and salty which I knew had to be my own hold.

Wade approached me and gave an angered face to Rad.

"Well, aren't you two sweet? Trying to protect each other like that." Rad gave a dark chuckle before he jerked his head to the door leading into the next car.

"Move it, both of you, Now!" He ordered.

Still clutching the left side of my face I stumbled my way toward the door with Wade right behind me, one hand on my lower back and other on my arm, whether it was to keep me from falling flat on my face or just there to comfort me, I didn't know. All I was focused on was the pain which seemed to be everywhere in my face.

As Rad pushed us forward I wondered exactly what we'd gotten ourselves into. We'd continue to walk through the next two train cars.

Wade and I got shocked from what we witnessed in the next train car. The image of the knife swiping across the old man's neck and the gushing blood, was imprinted in my brain.

"Grandpa!" the little girl wailed and a chorus of horrified screams followed. She hopped out of her seat and ran to her grandpa before she sank to her knees next to him, his blood seeping into her white tights.

I stared, unable to move or breathe. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth hard and bit down, trying to keep myself from throwing up.

I heard Rad chuckle darkly behind me before he began shoving at our backs again. When we had reached the front of the train where it was operated. Rad opened the door and I had to bite back a scream.

There on the floor was the conductor with a bullet bole i. the center of his head. I couldn't take much more of this.

Rad lifted the man up like he was nothing more than a rag doll and threw him out of the compartment where he landed with a loud thud, pointing the gun back at me and Wade.

"Get in." Rad ordered.

I walked inside slowly and my nose instantly wrinkled at the smell of blood. I looked ahead, out the front window of the train, as we sped past flickering light bulbs in the tunnel. I wondered where we were headed now.

Wade walked in behind me and I saw his face scrunch up as the smell of blood invaded his nose too.

"I'll be back to deal with you two later."

That was all Rad said before he closed us in and made his way back towards the back of the train.

As soon as the door closed, I pressed my back against the wall before I slid to the ground and pulled my knees to my chest.

This couldn't be happening.

Wade knelt down in front of me with his arms on his knees, and he stared at me intently.

"He just killed him." I whispered, shaking my head. "He didn't even flinch. He just slit his throat. Right in front of his granddaughter!" My voice rose and I think I was starting to hyperventilate. I was taking in quick shallow breaths and I started rocking back and front.

"Oh God, we're going to die. We're going to die." I was seriously starting to panic now. What would my parents do once they found out that I had been chopped up into a thousand little bite sized Chayo pieces? Then there was Jane. She'd probably take it worse.

Wade snapped his fingers in front of my face and broke me from my horrid thoughts.

He placed both of his hands on my knees and spoke very slowly, "We're not going to die. Okay?"

I looked back up at Wade and nodded slowly.

"Promise me then. Promise me that we won't die down here. Not like this." I said as I felt unexpected tears fill my eyes.

I didn't want to die. Not here. Not like this.

I watched him with a frown as he reached out and wiped a strat tear from my cheek before letting his warm hand rest there.

I didn't push his hand away like I told myself to. Instead, I welcome it, enjoying the brief comfort his touch brought me. I could use it right now.

"I promise." he said quietly.

I could only hope that he kept his promise.

I'm not sure how long I sat there. My imagination was running wild the longer we sat there. I imagined it might happen but my horrible thoughts scattered when the subway lurched and rumbled against the tracks.

"We're slowing down." Wade said.

The sound of the door sliding open behind us made me tear my gaze from the window and Rad who was standing in the doorway, his flesh colored mask and gaping black eye holes staring at me. A shiver ran down my spine.

Rad ordered us to follow him.

As we made our way through the subway cars I noticed that they were now all empty. I wanted to ask where everybody was but I was afraid of the answer I might get. So, I kept my mouth shut this time and kept moving.

We were on the last train car, Rad pushed us toward the exit doors which were already open.

We stepped out onto the old platform and my earlier question was instantly answered. All the people who had occupied the subway cars were now on the platform, all on their knees with their hands tied behind their backs with zip ties, set up in a line.

The one wearing a Jason Vorhees hockey mask stepped forward and tied our hands in our back. Jason Mask pushes us forward at the end of the line of subway passengers, where we got down on our knees and joined them.

"Now that you're all here, the real fun can!" Rad began with a clap.

A whimper and a sniffle came from my right and I glanced down the line of people and my eyes landed down on the same little girl from before. The little girl whose grandpa had been murdered right in front of her.

She was crying. I made myself a promise that I'll protect her.

I watched in silence as Rad and his band of masked began untying people and ushering them down onto the tracks of the

subway.

"Now this is how this is going to go," Rad began as he paced back and forth in front of the abandoned tracks. "The tracks from here on out are abandoned and farther down they break off into a bunch of unused subway tunnels. That's where you all are headed." He added.

"We're going to be playing a little game of hide and seek if you'd like to think of it that way. There's only one exit in one of these tunnels that leads up and out of the subway station but finding it will be like finding a needle in a haystack. If by some miracle though, you do happen to find this exit then you're home free... but if you don't," I could practically hear the smile in his voice. "And we get to you first then... well I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise now would I?"

Wade and I joined the group of passengers after the mask man untied the knots.

"You get two minutes, Two minutes and then the chase begins and you better hope like hell that we don't catch you" Rad warned everybody

"Why are you doing this?' A male voice demanded and that was Wade.

"I'm doing this to prove a point." Rad stated simply.

"What point?" Skater boy demanded.

"That I'm free to do whatever I please. You all live in this world thinking that you're safe, that you're protected. Well, you're not. Do you see anybody down here that'll give you as second glance if it means risking themselves?" Rad shook his head when the skater boy didn't respond.

"So, whoever is gonna survive through this game. Deliver the message to your pathetic police When they find all your dead bodies they'll see what a complete failure this entire system is." Rad added.

Rad glanced down at a watch that sat perched on his wrist.

"You have one minute and fifty-nine seconds" Rad said

As a cue, all the passengers started to run. I tried to scan the crowd for the little girl but people bumped into me and elbowed their way past trying to sprint ahead.

We kept running.

My legs were arching, my lungs were burning, and my head was spinning, all while I was running for my life.

As we continued running, my heart hammered furiously in my chest, and it felt like I was going to puke acid really soon.

I started slowing down and eventually I just stopped. I bent over with my hands on my knees trying to catch my breath.

Wade approached me and tried to motivate me to keep going. However, we heard an ear splitting scream echo down the tunnel. I turned to our back. I'm sure the group of masked men started to sue us.

Wade gently helped to keep half-running. I ignored the pain. We've reached the end of the track, we came to the tunnels that Rad had mentioned earlier. It was seven that all led off into different directions.

Wade and I agreed to pick the seventh tunnel. When we were inside, there were no lightbulbs, we couldn't see anything other than a pitch black.

We walked faster and carefully felt our tracks. My hands touched the wall of the tunnel and continued to walk.

Leading the track, Wade checked his phone but no signal to call police. However, we could use that as a flashlight.

Unluckily, the ground seemed to change, and I found myself free falling into the darkness. Wade yelled my name. My body smacked against the concrete. I cried out as bolts of searing hot pain jolted through every inch of my body. Tears filled my eyes instantly and spilled over as the pain took over. There was a horrible throbbing pain in the back of my head and an awful burning and ripping sensation in my side.

I heard the faint shuffling of footsteps and suddenly a bright light was shining in my water filled eyes.

"Shit!" I heard Wade's horrified whisper.

I couldn't even speak cause everything was hurt. Wade knelt down next to me. He sat his phone next to him letting the light create a small pool of illumination around us.

Wade said that he was going to help me. He began to lift the hem of my shirt. He slowly moved his hand upward until it rested just below my rib cage. And I felt an extreme amount of pressure on my ribs. There was an audible pop but I could barely hear it over the ear piercing scream that

was coming from my mouth. That was a great help, it had lessened considerably the pain before. A sheen of sweat covered my forehead as I breathed in and out rapidly.

Wade called my name with a worried and concerned face.

"I'm… still.. okay" I said through pants of breath. I blacked out.

I woke up cuddling with Wade. I'm literally surprised because I thought it was one of the psycho mask man. I could still feel the pain in my side. Wade told me that I was fell in manhole. One of my rib was dislocated.

"I'm grateful that you stuck around and helped me. It means a lot that you'd do that for me… and… and I'm sorry."

I jerked back a little when Wade whipped his head back so he could look at me, his eyes shining in the dim light of his cellphone.

I swallowed nervously and stared back at him, waiting for some kind of response. I froze when he reached up and pushed a damp piece of my hair behind my ear. My heart just about exploded when he let his hand linger on my face.

Didn't he know that there were people after us? Shouldn't we be running for our lives now?

I was ready to raise to slap his face when he got close enough to kiss me, but an ear splitting scream rang through the tunnel.

That scream scared me half to death in a panic, I jumped and slammed my head against Wade's.

I groaned in pain while rubbing my forehead and said to Wade that he had a hard head. Wade said that my head was exactly soft, teasing me.

"Did you hear that scream? Somebody could be in trouble." I said.

Wade just coughed and sounded like he was struggling to contain his laughter.

"Have you lost your mind? Those masked freaks could get to whoever that was and they could be headed this way right now." Wade explained.

I ignored his statement and tried to get up from sitting into his lap but he pushed me back to his.

"Please, Wade, I want to know who it was. Because it could be that little girl. She can't make it down here by herself. Hell, we can barely make it, so just imagine how she's doing. I have to find her Wade, so please don't try to stop me" I said.

Wade stared at me for seconds and stood up and then gently helped me to my feet. He grabbed my hand, shooking his head before he said "Let's go then, Wonder Woman."

Along our way, Wade and I talked nonsense. I've just realized that it was a mistake to find this little girl or who it was that did the screaming.

We've reached the end of the tunnel, but there was a large cavernous room. It was made of the same gray stone as the rest of the tunnels down here and jagged pieces of rock and pipe jutted up from the floor and hung from the ceiling. There were a few pale yellow flickering lanterns that cast an eerie glow across the large room, which meant someone had been here recently. Looking around, the room was empty.

"There's nobody here Chayo, we should head back and try and find our way out of here while we still can." Wade's voice rang out in an echo arout the vast room.

When I was to turn back to face Wade, the same shrill scream from earlier ran out behind me.

A black boots began to step forward, revealing black jeans and then a black hoodie before finally revealing a sheep masked figure.

"You two are just too easy." Sheep Mask drawled out, his voice slightly muffled by the mask.

I couldn't believe that we were fooled by this man. The scream that we heard was just recorded. The sheep mask currently holds the device where the scream came from and he pressed the button again to play the scream sound.

The Sheep Mask reached into the waistband of his dark jeans and pulled out a black handgun. The Sheep Mask pointed the gun to Wade but to my suprise, Wade was on top of him. Both of them struggled to gain control of the gun.

When the Sheep Mask started angling the gun towards Wade's chest, I rushed forward and brought my foot down as hard as I could on Sheep Mask's face.

Wade didn't wait for any second as the gun was on his hand. The Sheep Mask tried to scare them that we were going to die soon when Rad reached them. I faintly heard a loud crack and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Wade ram the butt of the gun into the side of Sheep Mask's face, then he shot the gun toward the head of the masked man.

Wade came to me and brought my head to his chest.

"We're not going to die here, Chayo. Do you understand? We're getting out of here," he promised. I hold on that promise.

I can't believe that we just killed the Sheep Mask man. I'm so mad to myself that we had to do that.

We've continued to search the exit. Wade leads the way, but his navigating skills sucks. When I led our way, it turns out that any navigating skills sucked a lot more than Wade's did. I ended up leading us right back to the spot where we started.

Apparently, Wade and I saw the same flurry of pink darts across the tunnel and into another one. I'm sure that was the little girl with the pink shirt that we tried to look for before.

We were not really sure but we decided to follow the girl from where the tunnel she ran through.

In turn of the event, someone grabbed me from the right. I saw Wade also dragged by another mask man. The piggy mask figure man that was covering my mouth by his hand, led me from somewhere. I was parted away from Wade. The last scene of him was fighting with the other mask man.

The Piggy Mask lifted his left foot and kicked open an old door that read "Employees Only".

The room looked like a place where electricians or repairmen would frequent with all the machinery inside.

The Piggy Mark man removed his mask as soon as he closed the door. It was Rad, the leader of the psycho mask group.

He grabbed my hair to go to another destination. There was a series of many lefts and rights before we finally came to his destination.

We went to another room. It was large and full of pipes in the ceiling. In the center of the room stood four, large, curved, gray pipes that jutted out from the floor and were pointed to the right wall.

There were three people handcuffed for those pipes. The strange man was handcuffed to the first one. The second one was the skater boy. The third one was the little girl that we've been looking for.

And for the fourth pipe, Rad cuffed me from the last pipe.

"W-why are you doing this?" I asked between my sobs.

"I already told you. The system already failed me once and now they're going to fail you. This is all to prove a point." Rad simply said. With that, he disappeared back down from the tunnel.

As soon as Rad was out of sight I slumped against the pipe before sliding to the ground. Anything I did was a failure to escape. I just dropped my head and think that this was how I'm going to die.

The first man in the pipe turned into red, burned, bloody and raw. The skin skin looked like it had been seared completely off and I could see the white of their bones poking out.

The skater boy started to scream, asking for help. The little girl started to cry and I had no idea what to do to comfort her.

I've heard a voice. "Chayo?!" Wade yelled out from somewhere. My head whipped up at the sound of his voice and directly look at his eyes.

He ran forward and bent down to hug her.

"How did you-,"

"You don't know how I fight that masked man but I'm relieved that I found you." Wade said.

"But I'm going to die here. The pipes. They shoot out hot steam and the man just got a face full of it." I explained.

Wade looked at the first pipe, his eyes widened and urged to fight to not throw up something.

Wade immediately pulled a trigger of his gum that pointed to her handcuffs but nothing happened.

Wade found two bobby pins into the hair of the little girl. He borrowed it from the girl and promised to help her.

I suggested to Wade to help first the skater boy and the little girl before me. Wade argued about it but he still did it. When Wade successfully unlocked the handcuffs to the skater boy, the skater boy moved forward to also help unlock the handcuffs on the little girl. Wade finished to get rid of the handcuffs to me before the steam of the pipes burned her.

We were successfully all safe, as of now.

The four of us continued to find the exit of this tunnel. Upon walking, we've talked in some conversations but stay alert. The skater boy named Dylan and the little girl named Rose.

Our conversation was long. Until Rose pointed ahead of her. She was pointing at the end of the tunnel and my blood ran cold.

Standing at the end of the tunnel, completely silent and staring at us, was the man in the Jason Mask.

Jason Mask aggressively started running towards us. As an instinct, Wade held my hands and we started to run to the tunnel on our right. Dylan and Rose followed us. There were a bunch of lefts and rights before we reached the two tunnels.

We agreed to part away in two groups. Dylan and Rose went to the left tunnel and Me and Wade ran through the right tunnel.

Me and Wade never stopped to run even though I've being clumsy for how many times I fall on my feet.

Wade stopped, he pushed me against the wall of the tunnel that didn't reach the dim light of the tunnel. I wondered what's going on in his mind but it made sense when I heard booming footsteps and a few seconds later I watched with wide eyes as Jason Mask went thundering past us and continued down the tunnel.

When I'm sure he was gone, I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

For a minute, we stayed there and had some rest. But I saw Rose had just come into view and even from here I could see red stained in her pink shirt.

Wade and I hurriedly approached Rose. I asked if she was hurt. But she said with tears that the blood stain came from Dylan.

Rose led the way where Dylan was. There was no way Rose should have been able to know the way back. She made way too many turns for her to have memorized it only going through it once. I stopped walking, Wade and I shared a look and thought the same thing.

With that, Rad suddenly came into view and Rose ran to him.

"Did I do good Daddy?" Rose asked.

"You did great sweetheart. Daddy is so proud of you." Rad said. Rose smiled proudly.

Rad pointed a gun on me. He ordered me to walk. We were now on one of the train car. Rad demanded Wade to hold out his hands. Rad handcuffed Wade's hands in one of the metal standing poles. Rad got the gun from Wade's pocket.

And by that, Rad left us after he locked the door of the train car.

I went to Rad's place.

"I'm sorry, I broke my promise to you," Wade said.

"You don't have to say sorry, maybe this is our fate." I said in my tears.

Wade asked to come closer with him. I went closer enough but he demanded to stand between his arms and the pole. I just didn't argue with that with the small place he was asking me to stand.

I stepped forward before ducking under one of his arms and I was now officially enclosed to him. I looked at him when he called my name with an intense expression.

"It was you. Even before Amber. I know this is not the right timing because we're almost likely dead anyway but I needed you to know."

I didn't know what response I should do, but I passionately kissed him. He kissed me back.

We stopped kissing when all of the sudden the doors that connected opened, I can see on the front train that the subway train was on fire. And the flames were quickly making their way towards us.

I could already smell the smoke. I ran back to the exit door and began pushing, pulling, and even banging on the door. Nothing worked.

Wade suggested kicking on the exit window. We kicked the window twice and it cracked. For the fifth time we kicked the window, it finally broke.

Wade told me that there was a left pin in his pocket. I get it used to get rid of the handcuff to his hands. It took more time and the smoke was already burning our lungs. Finally, the handcuff was unlocked. Wade took off his hoodie jacket and placed it around his left hand. He broke some left pieces of glass in the window.

He was the first one to climb out in the window before me. Wade helped me up. When I was on my feet I looked up at the burning subway train and watched as the flames of the fire completely engulfed it.

We saw Rad and his little girl at the top of the platform looking on the subway train to burn into ashes. Rad didn't see from where we were, I'm sure he thought that we were dead on that train.

So I made a plan to eliminate that freaking psycho.

__

I appeared from where Rad was standing.

"You bastard! You killed him!' I screamed as I slammed my body into Rad's and forced me to cry.

Rad was shocked that I was still alive. But he grabbed me roughly by my wrists and squeezed them tightly.

Okay, this was not part of my plan, I hope he didn't think to kill me now.

Turning back to my acting, I yelled to him like he really killed Wade. He just darkly chuckled about it.

As part of the plan, Rad never got to finish what he was about to say because a shard of glass was pushed straight into the center of his back.

Rad let me go. Rad was about again to speak but Wade stabbed again into his chest.

Rad had died. I hugged Wade as finally we are safe now. Wade took the kicking Rose and threw her into his shoulder. Wade and I slowly move forward to find the exit.

With the help of the light in Wade's cellphone, it was enough to see our way. As I was the one who's holding the cellphone, I saw in the darkness a set of stairs and swallowed hard before turning back to face Wade and nodded slowly.

We saw a light on the wood that was blocking our way. We kicked the light wood on how many times before we succeeded to pull off the wood.

Through the small hole, I could see the city lights that brought me into tears. The stars in the sky let me know that it was night.

We've carefully made a way through the hole. When I stood up and took a deep breath, it felt like it had been forever since I had breathed in fresh air.

There were a lot of old and abandoned buildings around that were boarded up just like the subway entrance had been.

We had planned to surrender and tell the police about Rose's case. She could still be changed with the help of DSWD.

Wade called an emergency call to 911. Wade and I shared a smile. I slowly kissed him.

We sat on the abandoned street and waited for the police to come and rescue us.