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writing-havoc · 2 years ago

Note

I'm literally obsessed. I'm sure you've seen my stalking your recent kaz x reader fics and I will not apologize for it! You're amazing!!! Can I request a Kaz x reader with the two prompts (from a post you rebloged):

"You're a little hurt, that's all" (said by Kaz)

and

“You need to distract me. do something, anything.“ (said by Reader)

PS I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort. ;)

But seriously though. You're writing is amazing, and I hope you know that. ❤ Thank you for the extra comfort character content!!!

Dust and Rubble

♡ Summary: A plan goes wrong. You get injured. Kaz tries to help

♡ Fandom: Six of Crows, Grishaverse

♡ Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader

♡ Warnings: Vomit, Blood, Description of Injury

♡ WC: 4.7k

♡ Prompts: "You're a little hurt, that's all." // "You need to distract me. Do something, anything."

I seen your comment on my masterlist post but since this is a sideblog, I couldn't reply. But, yes! I will tag you in all my Kaz fics from here on if I remember to :]. Thank you for all the kind words you've been sending me.

Please excuse any grammar and spelling errors. Hope you enjoy <3

Prompts used came from this list by screnwriter

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

The dress clothes you were wearing were made out of some of the finest exported materials you could get in Ketterdam, stolen from the closet of a high end family a mission was centered around months ago. It was your favorite color, and it was a crime that it wasn't simply named after you with how stunning you looked dressed in it from head to toe under the yellow lights of the ballroom, your skin shinning and teeth glowing from pure euphoria.

You fit in perfectly.

It was truly life's biggest shame that it would most certainly be drenched in dust, rubble, and blood by now.

Kaz sat up, eyes blurry and doubled- no, quadrupled, and ears ringing louder than the screams escaping from the throats of those who just became widows. His head was pounding, entire body begging him to lay down where he sat struggling and just rest for five more minutes.

But he couldn't. He absolutely could not. He had to find you. He had to find the others, and get the fuck out of here.

He rubbed at his eyes, gloves unhelpful as they dragged even more dust on his eye lids. A handkerchief in his dress-pocket was missing, so it was either fumble around with his eyes closed or deal with the consequences of dust filled eyes watering uncontrollably.

The latter was the option he went with.

His bad leg screamed as he pulled himself upright. Every breath was a fight, but nothing seemed to be broken or bloody. Just incredibly sore and leaden with what he's now registering as lifeless bodies thrown on top of him by the blast.

He wants to expel his entire stomach.

Waves clash at his knees, spreading up his thighs as he feels the weight of a severed arm slide off his back and drag down his body, hitting the floor with what should be a thump but is just followed by more ringing.

The only reason he knows he's not completely deaf is because he can heat the higher pitched screams around him, and voices that are running by him sound like they're underwater.

This is, by all means, a good sign.

As the last of the dirt is filtered out of his eyes by tears, he takes a good look around.

Women and men alike are sprinting around the ball room, looking for their loved ones and helping out those who are still looking. Some find eachother across the room and run into eachothers arms, embracing eachother tightly no matter how much pain they were in. Others clutch the lifeless bodies of their deceased or injured partners, begging to the saints and anyone around them to help.

Kaz's heart is pounding. He can feel it now, trying to claw its way out of his chest because he can't fucking see you and his leg hurts so bad it feels like he broke it again. But he forces himself to walk forward, to look up instead of down because if you're anything else but fine then he has to face the reality that he may have to adjust to this stupid saintless world without you in it and he's not sure he could cope with that.

Fuck, where did it go wrong?

The bombs weren't supposed to be anywhere near the inside of this room. They were supposed to be outside on dumpsters and inside crates to create distractions and block off paths in their escape. Were they labeled wrong? Did they bring them inside? But they were old and rotting. There shouldn't have been anything useful in them that would require them to bring them inside for literally any reason.

Did Wylan place them on the wrong crates? Did someone bring them inside in a drunken haze? But, how did parts of the fucking ceiling come crashing down?

The blueprints had to have been wrong. Everything must have been wrong when coming up with this plan and he didn't see it in the entire month it was being fleshed out.

Kaz tripped on a piece of rebar, it's presence covered by the torn dress of a different guest. His foot was sent alight with pain, knees landing awkwardly on palm sized pieces of rocks that made them feel fuzzy.

For fucks sake, where the hell are you?

And in a horribly timed moment, when he's on his stomach and arms feeling like jelly as they hoisted his body up, that is when he saw you.

He will never forget the full body reaction he had when he saw you.

You were laying face first on the ground, your clothes torn and soaked with blood that for a moment he hoped wasn't yours, but instantly knew it was.

Because in a terrible fit of irony, there was two large pieces of stained glass sticking out of your back. And Kaz wanted nothing more than to release the entirety of his stomach contents when he noticed they almost looked like wings.

This was a joke. A horrible, horrible joke.

In that moment, however, he saw your arms move, hand coming to rub at your face and another attempting to roll yourself on your side.

Your movement caused one of the shards to tilt, falling out of your wound and shattering against the ground. He's never heard more clearly than then when you let out a blood curdling scream as it tore your flesh and the other tilted as well.

It, however, didn't fall out, and only hooked itself under your skin, pulling it up and outward.

In an extraordinary display of adrenaline, Kaz lifted his body off the ground and marched on over to you.

"Y/n." He tried, hearing coming back to him in full swing.

It was overwhelming, the amount of people screaming and the sound of rubble falling against eachother. Bodies squelching as people stepped on them in their rush to get out and your cries as you continued to try and hoist yourself up.

He tried to stop you, but couldn't get there in time as the other largest shard slid out of your body and stained the floor with your blood.

"Y/n!" He called. He sank to his knees when he got to you, hardly thinking as he helped to get you on your hands and knees.

The water dragged up to his waist, splashing on his stomach. It jostled his stomach and made it very, very difficult to not regurgitate everything he had eaten.

"Kaz." Your voice was gruff and he watched in horror as blood mixed with your spit and fell to the floor.

He lifted you up, letting you sit on your legs to get a good look at you.

Your hair was filled with dirt and dust, eyelashes caked similarly. Red dripped from your busted bottom lip and down your chin. The gash was sure to scar, but at least the blood wasn't from a chest wound like he thought.

"Kaz." You called again, letting your head loll around. "Kaz my back really hurts. And my head." You tried to bring your arms up but let out a strangled sob when you couldn't.

"You're a little hurt, thats all." He lied, completely betraying his own mantra. Your clothes were becoming soaked in your blood and there was no fucking way he was going to be able to get you out without damn near carrying you and the water was already too high.

Without allowing himself to think about it, he got up and hooked his hands under your arms. You howled with pain, but you at least had the sense to help him as your wobbly legs straightened. Tears streamed down your face and your arms hung limp, but at least you were up.

"Alright, dove." He swallowed his spit, squeezing it past the lump in his throat. "We need to go, okay? We need to get out of here."

"But, the job-"

"Fuck the job." The words sounded wrong coming out of his mouth. "We can attempt it again a different day. But we need to live to see that day, yeah?"

You nodded, and he couldn't help but be a little grateful that you were a little out of it.

He tried his best to encourage you forward, but words of encouragement are the bottom of his list of things he's adept at, especially in situations such as this. So it was mostly limited to "Right there" and "You're okay."

You were no more than forty feet from the Slat when you went still, eyes squeezed shut and arms still hanging limp at your sides. The back of your clothes were soaked and slowly seeping to the sides. It slowed a lot since you began your trek back, but it was still concerning.

"We have to keep going."

"You need to distract me." You blurted, taking a staggering step forward. "Do something. Anything."

"Distraction." He mumbled, mostly to himself, partly to you because what the fuck was he supposed to do? There was nothing around he could use and his leg felt like it was splintering in his calf.

He could say something. Maybe put you into shock somehow. But you don't get shocked easily and you're usually the one spitting out random facts and tidbits of information. He doesn't have random facts and tidbits of information stored in his head outside of the ones you've given him-

Well. Actually...

"Did you know birds have one of the most sophisticated and impressive breathing systems of any animal?"

You lifted your head, peeking your eyes open to look at him with an expression of intrigue underneath the pain.

He went on. "They've got airsacs. Attached to their lungs." He struggled for the information. "They've usually got about nine, three up front and six in the back in their rump."

You chuckled childishly. "Rump."

"Yes, rump." He fought off a smile. "It takes two breathing cycles to complete one breath. If I'm not mistaken, it's called unidirectional breathing. We use bidirectional. In and out. They breathe in while also breathing out."

You trudged forward, nearly there. "Is that why their bones are hollow?"

He stared in slight surprise. "Yes, actually. They've got pneumatic bones with big open crevices that store air, which in turn helps them with flying."

"That's so cool."

"Learned it a while ago while listening to some tourist veterinarian while on a job." He could recall the job nearly perfectly. "He had various picturegraphs and diagrams-"

Kaz took a step forward and hollered in pain with a closed mouth, bad leg completely collapsing underneath him. It was probably fractured again.

He should have told you to shut up and keep walking. Instead he indulged you and got distracted trying to distract you.

Yet, he doesn't regret it.

"You okay?" You leaned down as much as your body would let you, wincing in pain every inch down.

He was about to respond when you seemed to have bent down too far, your entire body collapsing to the ground. You only had enough time to stop your head from cracking against the wet cobblestone ground before you went unconscious, body ragdolling in a pile of limbs.

The entire world seemed to be crashing again. In the back of his mind he knew he should act rationally, pick you up and drag you to the Slat, but he couldn't get his body to move.

'You're dead' he thought. 'You've lost too much blood. You died.'

Those thoughts were only there for a moment before he sprung into action, letting the rational take over and hoisting you up and over his shoulder. He ignored the searing pain in his leg and the waves crashing at his chest and licking up his neck, limping to the door of the Slat and throwing it open.

He was lucky that Nina had made it back some time ago.

Very, very lucky.

"Zenik!" He called out. She responded immediately, her entire face falling as she seen who he was holding. Matthias' name was out of her mouth in an instant, his hulking body coming from around the corner. He stares for no more than a second before running over and taking you from Kaz's back.

"What happened?" She asked as she rushed down the stairs and into the makeshift infirmary, Matthias in front and Kaz taking up the rear.

"Glass shards. Stuck right through about three inches."

She ordered Matthias to set you down on your side. Placing you on your chest posed too much risk to your breathing stopping completely. Nina immediately got to work, tearing the clothes off your shoulders and exposing your back.

Her hands hovered over the gashes on your back, eyes squinted as she felt around for the damage. She cursed and moved her hands, the room watching as your muscles began to flex and more blood poured from your wounds. He nearly yelled at her to demand an explanation when a smaller piece of glass exited the wounds. She took them and dropped them in a bucket next to the table.

"They were moving around as you two were walking, going deeper." She closed her eyes completely now, hands immediately back to the gashes. "One of them nicked an artery."

"Fix it." He ordered.

"Oh really? That's what I should be doing?" Her eyes snapped open, glaring at your back. He knew they were supposed to be directed at him. "I thought I was supposed to be cutting it."

He glared at the side of her face. "Don't get smart with me, Zenik."

"Then don't give me stupid orders."

And he knows it was a stupid order. He knows. But he had to say it. He had to.

He paced around the little amount of open space he had. His skin felt like it was crawling where he slung you over his shoulder and he was drowning, the water covering his nose and nearly covering his eyes. His stomach felt like it was turning inside out, guts twisting at sharp angles. He was absolutely soaking in his own sweat and his fucking leg-

"Kaz if you're going to pace you're going to have to leave. It's distracting."

"Last I checked you don't give orders around here."

"No, I don't. But I'm the one currently fixing your love interest and I need silence and no distractions to achieve that."

He felt his shoulders bristle and cheeks grows warm. "Y/n's not my love interest."

That got a chuckle out of her. "Please, Brekker. Don't lie to yourself. It makes you look daft." He was about to retort, but the door above slammed open, Pim popping her head around the corner once she trekked her way down the stairs.

"Jesper and the rest of the crew are back."

White hot anger surged in his blood. When he got ahold of them he would tear them in half.

His eyes flickered to your body, Matthias holding you on your side with Nina pouring every ounce of her focus into fixing your wounds. And then he thought of himself, pestering her like a gnat to fresh fruit and being of no help at all.

He really wasn't like himself. Not with you.

"I'll be there in a moment." He leveled his voice. "Herd them to my office."

Pim nodded and disappeared up the stairs.

He waited until the footsteps faded until he looked at Nina again. A thin sheen of sweat was plastering to her forehead.

He took a deep breath, and then grabbed a nearby bucket and discarded any and all of his insides into it. Spit collected in his cheeks, making them burn as it coated his teeth. The back of his throat burned. He swished it around, spitting whatever was left into the bucket. He dryheaved for a few moments, cursing all the saints he didn't believe in before putting the bucket back where it came from, wiping trickles of bile from his lips and transferring it to his clothes.

The water was lowering, heavy against his chest but no longer covering his face. He tried to remember your warmth, a stark contrast to the charactered piercing cold of corpses, and walked around the table and up the stairs.

"If she dies, Zenik, so do you." He completely ignored Matthias' protective growl.

She nodded. "Noted."

He held onto the railing, knuckles turning white underneath his gloves. The backs of his cheeks were collecting spit once more, stomach contracting. He begged to his own body to just wait a little longer, and took the last step up and into the main floor of the Slat.

Dregs stared, but he couldn't be bothered with them. All he could see was red and green and feel red and blue, and the only people that could explain this was up several stairs and in his office.

It was a blur all the way up until he reached his door and swung it open. Jesper, Wylan, and Inej were sitting around the room, all staring at him with a look of guilt and mild fear.

He closed the door behind him and grabbed his cane from the umbrella bucket. It wasn't loud, but the sound was firm and noticeably being masked as something it was not.

With gritted teeth and venom in his voice, his question-turned-statement rang clear in the quiet room.

"What. Happened."

-----------

You were dressed in a baggy white button-up shirt and the coziest pair of sleep pants that Kaz could find in Ketterdam. The material wasnt itchy. Rather, it was soft and felt addicting on the pads of his fingers when he dragged them over it, slow and meticulous. They weren't nearly as high end as the clothes you were in before, and they weren't your favorite color by a long shot, but you still looked as attractive as ever.

The chair Kaz was sitting in was old and uncomfortable. Everytime he shifted he felt as if it would break underneath him. The wood bent and groaned no matter what position he took, but he would deal with it as he always does.

He watched your breathing, eyes glued to your chest for any sign that you were going under.

It had been several days since the mishap at the ball, and he was still as angry as he was that day after walking up all those steps to his office for an explanation.

It was stupid. The mistakes that were made were childish at best, completely and utterly rubbish at worst. A child could have done better. A child after downing several pints of beer could have done better.

He took a deep breath, attempting to calm his rapidly beating heart.

He's already gotten too worked up over this several times, a sour mood following him day in and day out.

Nina was able to fix your artery, but it was the loss of blood that truly worried her. She had no idea if you would pull through, but she did her best.

Realistically, Kaz couldn't blame her. He knew that she would do her best and then some to make sure that you would have the best chance of pulling through. But seeing you still unconscious, even if Nina was the one keeping you under, made him resent her a little. A lot. But you being kept unconscious with your healing process sped up was the fastest way for you to recover, so he'll keep his mouth shut and his brooding (for the most part) to himself.

Being down here gave him a lot of time to think. Which usually wasn't a problem. He treasured the time he got to himself, to continue scheming and analyzing blueprints and updating ledgers. Small meticulous tasks to fill his day and cards and dice to fill his night.

But he didn't realize that he treasured the small moments with you even more. Even if you didn't invade his space directly, he enjoyed the subtle ways in which you did.

The tea you brought him late at night would sit on a coaster next to the papers on his desk, the aroma filling his nose as he drunk it slowly, savoring the way you got it right almost every time these days. Little sayings you spewed at random moments would sit in his mind, always just to the left of his current thoughts. Little trinkets you found that you thought he would enjoy would find their place around his office or in a drawer just dedicated to you.

He didn't get those anymore. Not with you down here.

He shifted, internally wincing at the way the chair groaned.

It was loud enough that he missed your own groan. But he didn't miss the way you shifted and the way his name fell from your lips.

"Kaz?" You called into the room.

"To your right." He could attempt to play this cool all he wanted, but the second his own voice made it back to his ears he knew pretending was futile.

You turned your head, and your entire body relaxed when your eyes scanned his virtually unscathed body. He didn't realize the weight that he was carrying on his shoulders until he really processed that you were alive and finally awake. He felt lighter. Lighter in a way he hasn't felt for a long time.

"How much pain?" He asked, getting up from his chair and standing next to the table.

You wiggled around, instantly wincing. "Not too bad." Of course you would say thay. "Just a little sore."

He put his hand next to yours on the table, leather gloves feeling a little hot around his hands.

"What even happened?"

He sighed heavily, annoyance plaguing his body. "Turns out they moved all the rotting crates outside into the building. They didn't want anything outside to sway the professional look they were trying to achieve." He tapped the table. "The bombs were inside, and our blueprints were outdated by nearly a decade. The structural integrity of the building has been shot for years and some drunk civilian decided he was going to have a cigar right next to the bombs and threw his match into the crate, setting off the bomb."

"And that made nearly the entire building collapse." You finished.

"Exactly."

He looked at the space next to your head. It was a horrible miscalculation that nearly cost his crew their lives. He had to do better. This line of work isn't safe and never will be but he had to work harder to eliminate risks as much as-

"Stop." You said, voice suddenly stern. He looked into your eyes, alight with fire. "Don't go down that inane rabbit hole."

"It was a possibility I should have foreseen." He began. "The fact that I didn't shows that I'm falling behind."

"No." You said so simply. You took a deep breath like you were steeling yourself, and then began the painful trek of sitting yourself up.

"Lie back down." He tried to order, hand coming up just inches in front of your chest. You stared at it, then moved your lower body to come below your upper half, effectively sitting up while staying in place. He didn't know whether to be impressed, be annoyed, or chuckle.

"Kaz, you cannot possibly believe that you can foresee every outcome to ever happen."

"Of course not." He agreed, but still felt a little attacked. "But this is one I that I should have. It makes sense."

"Even if you did see it, you cannot control how the building responds- usually!" You shouted the moment he tried to interject. "The blueprints were out of date. There's no way you could have known that the entire thing would collapse."

"I should have double checked the dates. Made sure they were the updated ones."

"And why would you do that?" You pressed on. "When you ask for blueprints as architect, you would automatically assume they would give you the most updated ones. It was a logical assumption."

"I still should have checked." He didn't raise his voice, but it was obvious that he wanted to.

You looked at him, a little shocked, eyes searching for something. He fought everything in him that told him to turn away and walk up those steps. He felt a little bare, and got a grip on his breathing. Sudden understanding spread across your face.

"You know I'm alive, right?" You straightened your back. "I'm here."

He was about to retort, say 'of course I know that. You're sitting right in front of me.' But the reality of the situation truly dawned on him, just like in those frantic moments when he was looking for you, that there was a very good chance that you could have died if Nina didn't arrive back when she did.

This was childish. He gripped the head of his cane. "Of course I do."

You reached your hand out, inches away from his hand. You waited for a sign from him, and grabbed the cuff of his jacket with the pads of your fingers when he gave a subtle nod. The way you moved was slow and deliberate, giving him ample time to pull away. You stopped when his hand was no more than a few inches from your chest and let go.

He kept it there, hovering. Very carefully, you slid his glove off and put it to your side. Your lip was scarred.

"I'm here," you looked him in the eye, "because of you. I'm alive, because of you. Neither I, nor anyone else, expects you to see everything that could be thrown at us. We take the risk everyday when we adorn the Dregs tattoo, and even when we don't." He swallowed the spit in his throat, listening to your voice. "I don't plan to leave you anytime soon, Kaz."

He let your words sink in, feeling the warmth radiating from your chest. The waters lapped at his knees, but that distinctive sick feeling wasn't nearly as bad. You were open, giving him the choice, and he didn't feel pressured to fulfill anything.

He wanted to, he really truly wanted to.

He pulled his hand back, giving a nod. But not today.

"Don't leave." It was both a statement and a request, a plea, even, whispered into the candle lit room.

Silently, you took the glove and passed it to him. "No problem."

With a vulnerable heart and shaking hands, he took the glove and put it on. They didn't feel all that hot anymore.

"Wait here." He said. "I'll get Nina."

You smiled. "Yes, sir." You attempted to salute him, and winced when you moved too quickly. He sighed, a whisper of a smile gracing his lips, and started to make his way up the stairs.

The moment he emerged from the underground, the eyes of his Crows magnetized towards him. It only took them a moment for them to break out in smiles, Nina immediately hopping up and heading down the stairs.

"Told you Y/n would come around soon." Jesper piped up, earning a little shove from Wylan and a shake of the head from Matthias.

Inej stared at Kaz, and he immediately knew he was showing more than he intended. He schooled his expression and walked to the kitchen to prepare himself and you some tea.

The faintest movement alerted him of Inej's presence behind him as he got the cups down.

"It was your eyes." She said, answering a question he didnt ask. A moment of silence passed between them, conversations of little importance invading his space. "I don't think I've ever seen them so bright."

He didn't have it in him to say anything to that. Instead, he gave her a look with relaxed brows and an even more relaxed jaw, hoping that was enough. She smiled before disappearing again, no doubt going to see you.

As he poured the water in a clean pot, checking the temperature is where it needs to be, he leaned against the counter and let out a long sigh, exhaling umtil his lungs begged for air.

So long as you were alive and with him, he would be fine.

And as terrifying as that statement was, it brung him immense comfort.

You wouldn't leave him. Not anytime soon.

#ask #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #six of crows x reader #request #six of crows fanfic #shadow and bone fanfic #fanfic #b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r

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blustalker · 3 years ago

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What it's like being roommates with Jeff, Ben, and Toby in a dingy apartment headcanons (platonic)

• Ben would nag you to play video games with him but if he lost he'll get pissed and go in the game and hack it

• Eye drops all over the apartment since Jeff leaves them everywhere and keeps losing it

• Toby and Jeff would try and attempt to cook something. You have to supervise them while they are testing out this waffle maker

• They stuffed it with hot dogs and eggs it wasn't half bad solid meal

----

• You brought your date around the house, beforehand you had to force them to clean the whole place

• Ben shoved all his crap in cabinets and drawers

• Jeff didn't do shit and made more mess

• Toby is the only one who helped but not without complaining the whole time

• Once you and your date came over it was dead silent, no one in sight. You guys were sitting in the living room chatting when the tv turned on by itself

• Oh you knew what was coming suddenly Ben pops out of the tv and crawls out of it. Your date never went there again

• Every time you bring your date over they take turns scaring the shit out of them and track it down on the scoreboard score. Whoever has more scares wins

----

• When you came home upset from whatever happened they tried comforting you.

• They ended up stealing money from a store and y'all spent it all shopping

• Everyone has mood swings so you'll hear shouting here and there

• Music blasting at 3 am from jeff's room

• Bribe eachother with chores or blackmail

• Be careful where you step there might be sharp objects and shit on the ground

• Takes each others clothes after laundry day They accidentally gave each others clothes don't know which is whos

-----

• One of them has a shrine of slashers they really look up to. Ben likes Patrick Bateman, Jeff likes Billy Lenz, and Toby likes Norman Bates

• Need to replace the xbox controllers a lot cause Ben always throws it

• Jeff punches things to take his frustration out so there are a few holes on the walls

• Toby asks you to punch his stomach while doing pull ups cause he thinks it'll make him stronger it really doesn't do anything since he can't feel pain

• Jeff and Toby sometimes bans Ben from video games cause he usually cheats

• Ben and Jeff were play fighting. Jeff got too carried away and accidentally stabbed Ben. Toby called you to go home and deal with them

• Go yell at Ben to take a shower

• If you're going through something and too tired to do chores they'll do it instead

• You all got pet fish but it died a week later. Ben tried giving them Monster

• You once bought one of those cold cases murder mystery to play it with them not even 15 mins in and they got it right. They bet whoever solves it first doesn't have to do any chores and sore losers has to pay for food and do everything in the apartment

• Whenever you play jazz they pretend to be in a horror movie to freak you out

• When you all watch a horror movie they'll be very sarcastic and exaggerate their reactions

• You blackmailed all of them to dress like the heathers and they blackmail you to be their Veronica

• Whenever you would play video games Ben would randomly pop up in there and give you a jump scare

• You joked to them about them being your guard dogs so when you went out they started barking at everything you never made that joke again

• They purposely piss you off by taking your words literally "What? you told me to piss off"

---

• Whenever you start having crush they make a plan on how to get rid/test this new person

• Your date just sees three scary looking men behind you without you knowing

• Ben and you have moments where you laugh at nothing

• Noise complaints all the time you guys almost got kicked out. Don't worry they took care if it meaning sending a warm message to your neighbors

• When you asked what happened to the neighbor they'll just say "they probably moved" and leave before you could ask anymore questions

___

ill give you a smooch if u reblog

this is them playing as the heathers💀

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x platonic reader #jeff the killer x reader #ticci toby x reader #ben drowned x reader #creepypasta x reader

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fireheartpages · 2 years ago

Text

iii. the hatred of a minute | m.m.

matt murdock x reader

series masterlist

summary: long nights begin being crowded by things you don't want to see materialize, after your legal battle runs its course. the question stands: can you fight your way out of this one? or will you finally fall?

word count: 3.6k

rating: 18+, swf, canon typical violence with a slight trigger warning for assault/SA (latter only mentioned in a medical sense), slight she-hulk spoilers. second person pov, afab reader with she/her pronouns

a/n: this quote comes from an edgar allen poe passage, "years of love have been forgot, in the hatred of a minute." hello all! i know it's been like nine months since my last chapter and honestly i shouldn't promise any more consistent updates lmfao. i've moved twice (once cross country) since my past chapter and i'm moving out of state again in like two weeks. so life has been unreasonably crazy lately, but i watched she-hulk and when she said the accords were revoked i was like are you fr rn bc so much of this fic's plot was in fact based around the accords but also i hadn't been writing bc i didn't know what i wanted to so with it so honestly that little tweak in canon made me wanna overhaul the plot and start writing again so here i am!! this is still the bare bones of where i had planned on going with the series but with some changes so that i'll actually be invested in writing it lol and i hope y'all will be invested in reading it!! also shout out to the three people in my notes who reblogged the first two chapters like two days ago that finally made me start writing, yall are awesome. this is for u. (and she-hulk) (oh yeah also matt in she-hulk!! sexy af)

March 2024

Matt could smell your hangover.

Every inch of you was drenched in sweat and vodka and sick. You stumbled into the office of Nelson, Murdock, and Page a little after eleven, half reeling, and rendering Matt more than a little concerned. Foggy met you as you made it in the door, helping you to the small couch next to his desk.

“What the hell happened to you?” Foggy asked, tossing Matt a water bottle to hand to you.

“Have you seen, like, literally any public media source?”

Matt hummed, leaning against the desk across from you. “I did. Imagined you’d take it about this well, too.”

“Thought you couldn’t see, Murdock.”

Matt chuckled. “Good to know your humor’s still in tact.” He unscrewed the bottle an handed it to you. You took it, taking a long sip, then pressing your head to the back of the couch.

“How does, like, the law work?” you asked. “Can I sue? I wanna sue, or something. Get that asshole to put his shield down.”

Foggy laughed sympathetically, walking around to take a seat. He’d told Matt you would be coming in today only about an hour ago, detailing the phone call he’d had with Bucky Barnes. Apparently he’d fished around your purse until he found Foggy’s business card and called, asking if you could come in. Neither of them knew what the topic of your visit was, but after last night’s news spectacle, it wasn’t hard to guess.

“That’s not how the law works, unfortunately,” Matt answered you. “Also, we’re defense lawyers.”

“Okay, and?”

“We don’t sue people.”

“We protect the people getting sued,” Foggy supplied.

“Assholes,” you mumbled, eyes sliding shut.

“So, what, did you raid a liquor store last night?” he asked, voice dancing with the odd mix of sympathy and humor.

“Tried to outdrink Bucky.”

“How well did that go?”

“Can’t remember a single thing after four p.m., but at least my hangover hurts worse than the news blasts I keep getting on my phone do.”

“You can turn those off, you know,” supplied Foggy helpfully.

“Fuck off, Nelson.” Matt laughed, suddenly acutely aware of the rip in your jeans where your skin poked through unhindered. You were crowding his senses for some reason. He pushed off the desk, walking around just to give himself something to do. He noted what was happening outside the window. Someone was walking a dog, a couple was arguing, a few honks from taxi drivers, the smell of you underneath all the liquor—

Knock it off, he thought.

He paced back around to the opposite side of the desk, balancing himself on the edge. Your voice coated his thoughts as he tried to focus on what you and Foggy were saying.

Foggy was explaining something about the legality of the Accords to you that Matt was struggling to catch on to. You swore at whatever he said. Matt let the conversation float over him as his senses crept out to the warmth of your skin and the softness of your voice and whatever shampoo you used that made you smell so good. He dug his nails into the wood of the desk below him, something solid to keep him from drifting into whatever made him like you so much. He knew he couldn’t, knew he shouldn’t, after the alarms went off in his mind the last time he walked you home and you’d leaned into his touch just a little too much. That bit of intimacy you’d offered him, the trust you were putting in him was misguided, unearned, and dangerous. Not with who he was. Not with who you were.

So he denied himself, as any good Catholic would.

He was brought back into reality when Foggy directed something at him.

“What?” he stuttered, willing his brain to come up with something a little bit better.

“Still with us?” Foggy laughed.

You remarked, “I thought I was the one who was wrecked,” and he clenched his jaw.

“My mind wandered.” He took a slow, deep breath.

He couldn’t ignore the soft laugh you gave, or the way your pulse picked up with awareness under his focus. He could tell Foggy knew he was full of shit. "What did you say?"

"Do you think you could handle a neighborly visit?" Foggy asked.

Matt had no idea what he was talking about.

Thankfully, Foggy saved him the embarrassment of having to ask. "I'm going to do the best I can to figure out how to get around this once Bucky Barnes gets in contact with Sam Wilson. I think you should pay a visit to Mr. Walker."

Matt huffed and shifted from foot to foot. "Um, why?"

"Trying to prevent a murder," he answered dryly, then pointed a finger at you. "You are not to make contact with Walker. At all. I don't care. Relay that message to Bucky as well."

You sighed and rolled your eyes, letting your head lull back onto the couch. Your hair fell away from your neck, exposing more of your skin to the air. No more deep breaths.

"I think it can be arranged," Matt said.

He felt you tense, like you were making to get up, but you didn't move. Matt rounded the desk again, offering his arm to you. "Let's get you home."

You took it, letting him half-haul you up off the couch and into a standing position. Your skin was so soft. "Coffee?" he asked.

"You buying?"

He smirked at you, then turned his attention to Foggy. "Send any updated you find?'

Matt could tell Foggy was giving him a look that he was hoping you weren't picking up on, powers or not. You let yourself be escorted out the door, down the stairs, and out of the building, the entire time not letting go of Matt's arm.

New York liked to pretend to have spring. There was snow on the ground, and the temperature was barely breaking 65, in a way that let non-locals believe there might be some warmer weather up ahead. He knew better, though. He knew New York would stay icy for a long while longer.

He walked along the streets covered with melting snow, dodging tourists and kids checking out colleges on spring break. No one paid him a second thought. People were too busy thinking about themselves. Everyone is always only ever thinking about themselves.

Even when there was so much hurt in the world. So much that needed to be fixed and yet everyone chooses to think only about themselves. Everyone chooses to ignore the help they could give others and instead make it about them. So selfish, he thought. But he wasn't selfish. He thought about other people. He thought about the betterment of other people. Of a community.

That's why it took him so long to pick the perfect person. He didn't want to call her a victim. A pretty blonde in a pinstripe suit. She had just hung up the phone. Perfect, he thought. She wasn't a victim, no. Even as she thrashed and kicked as he came down hard with a hand over her mouth and dragged her into the alleyway just to his right. She wasn't a victim, she was the beginning to the betterment of a community. Of the world.

He pushed the needle into her skin, letting the dosage sink into the muscle of her arm. He'd had to tear her pretty blazer. He was sure she'd be fine with it if she knew. If she knew she was the beginning to a better community.

She lost her fight as the dose made its way through her system, slowly slumping in his arms as he lowered her to the ground, and he left her there to wake up later, making his way back into the sidewalk as if nothing had happened.

"Are you sure they're going to let you in in your condition?"

You laughed, still clinging to Matt's arm as you both made your way to the hospital. He'd insisted on ensuring you made it there safely, despite your protests. It's either this or the rooftops, he's said. He'd bought you coffee. You figured you could start your shift off on the right foot.

"They don't care what state I'm in as long as I can change a bedpan and start and IV," you remarked.

Mat laughed, and you liked the sound. "Let me know if you ever want to unionize."

"We're med students, Matt, I'm not even a real employee."

"That... sounds like it should break some labor laws."

You screwed up your face. "Gotta learn somehow. There could be worse ways. Than legalized slavery."

"Oh no," Matt said around another one of those pretty laughs. God. Go back to when you hated him, you thought. It was so much easier than thinking he was beautiful. And God, was he.

"I'll be fine," you stated, trying (and failing) to stop staring at him in the glistening springtime air. "Couple more cups of coffee and I'll be human-shaped again. Or, med student-shaped. How about you go out there and make sure we don't get any stabbings or GSWs? I want a quiet night."

"I'll try my best," he said, releasing your arm so he could slide his hand up and down it. What a gentleman, warming you up. So polite.

You stood there in silence, trying to come up with something to say maybe to extend the moment, or maybe a dig to make it not as incredibly obvious as it felt that you really enjoyed his company. Before you got the chance, a scrub-clad energy ball launched at you.

"You gotta come in here, we got a chick with some weird-ass symptoms, right up your alley. Come do your funky thing." He shivered. "God, it is freezing out here."

"Derek, no, that's not how this works and you know it." You sighed, closing your eyes, and digging your phone, which had begun ringing, out of your coat pocket.

"It is now," Derek said, smiling like he was sharing an inside joke with you. His smile faltered when he realized you were entirely lost. "You didn't see? I thought you would be jumpin' for joy."

"See what, Perez?" you asked, funneling every inch of exasperation into the question.

"The Accords got revoked. You get to be super doc."

"What?" you and Matt snapped in unison.

You looked down at your phone to see Foggy calling and thrust the phone up to your ear.

"Is it true?" you demanded at the same time Foggy said, "I have the best news ever!"

You heard him laugh on the other end of the line. "No more collar or leash for you, baby! The Accords were just revoked for American citizens!"

"Is he serious?" Matt asked you in a low voice.

You felt like you were going to pass out.

"I knew this had been in the works in congress but I didn't want to get my hopes up, but it's happening, baby!" Foggy was going on.

"What?" you snapped.

"Effective immediately, you are no longer required to sign the Accords. No leash, no monitoring. Go have fun."

"I would definitely still check with your higher-ups before using your abilities at work," Matt supplied.

"Is that Matt? Matt, you asshole, I've been calling you for like 10 minutes!"

"Dude," Derek said, "you've gotta come see this girl."

You were frozen in place, frozen with shock until you felt Matt's hand come to rest on the small of your back. You took a shuddering breath. "So, I'm free?"

"You're free," Foggy said gently.

You hung up the phone without saying goodbye, and turned to Matt. "I should get in there." Patients first, feelings later.

"Have a good evening," Matt said, his hand falling from your back. "Text me when you get home.

You knew damn well he would know when you got home without you texting him. But you didn't say anything. Instead, you turned back to Derek as he walked away and you forced yourself not to let your gaze follow him.

"Do I have time to get scrubs?"

"This chick is wild, okay," Derek began, ignoring your question. "I'd just gotten in when she came in. Flu-like symptoms, so the docs put her on me, right? Turns out, she was assaulted walking to work. All shaken up. I went to go get the kit, but she kept refusing, thought she'd probably feel safer with a female doc. So I offered up one of the interns, but she refused again. Said she was conscious for the entire attack, and all that happened was this guy stuck a needle in her arm and left her on the ground." He kept talking as you rounded the corner into the locker room. "Scumbag, right? I wasn't sure I believed her, but she let me do a physical exam and the only signs of struggle were on her face and neck. And her arm, where the needle went in. So she's telling the truth. And here's the catch. Tox screen is nuts."

You shrugged on your white coat. "How so?"

"Lit up like a Christmas tree," Derek said, shaking his head. "Amphetamine, opiates, benzos, tylenol, you name it."

You raised your brow at him. "Wow."

"And get this, she's bleeding from every line we give her. I tried to put in an IV, blew the vein."

"You're bad at IV's."

"Not that bad," he said indignantly. "But even Mar tried, and the line started bleeding. Mar! Best nurse in this place botched an IV. Doc Cohen tried to put in a central line, more bleeding. Her pressure was skyrocketing every time we tried too."

"That would sense," you said following him further into the ER. "Eight million drugs in someone's system ought to thin the blood."

"Yeah but we get at least a central line on druggies. Besides, she doesn't have any past drug use history. Her lines are clean, man." He led you to a private room towards the back of the ER. You pushed open the door with a sigh.

There was a young girl on the bed, two bloody bandages around her arms and a bandage across her chest. She was pretty, twenty-something with her blonde hair falling out of a ponytail at the back of her head. There was what looked like a designer bag and pinstripe pants discarded in the corner, the matching jacket in an evidence bag.

"Hannah Edwards, this is one of my colleagues, she's gonna do a much better job of figuring this out than we are," Derek supplied as you walked farther into the room.

You introduced yourself with as much smile as you could muster, sitting down next to the bed. "Don't sell her lies, Dr. Perez, please. How are you feeling?"

"Like a human pin cushion with a nasty flu," Hannah said with a weak smile.

"Can you tell me when you started getting the flu symptoms?" you asked.

"Like, fifteen minutes after the guy got me. I laid on the floor, not able to move for like ten minutes. When I got up, I started to go home, but I got, like, super dizzy and feverish five minutes later, so I came here instead."

"You were paralyzed?" you asked.

"I guess?" Hannah shrugged. "I got really groggy for a while and then when I tried to move, everything felt super heavy. It took me, like, ten minutes, like I said, to get up and move. Then I felt all dizzy and came here."

"Good thing," you said. You let your ability reach out ever so slightly, creeping out to touch whatever weird sickness surrounded her.

You jumped back.

"What, what is it?" Hannah asked.

"Dr. Perez, could I see that tox screen please?"

Derek handed you the paper. "Told you, there's almost so much on there that it's unusable."

"She shouldn't be upright with all of this in her system. Have you had any vomiting, Hannah?" You read the tox report again and again, begging the number to make sense but--Hannah Edwards should be dead right now if this were true.

"Just a little nausea," Hannah answered.

"Temp's been bouncing between 100 and 102," Derek said from behind you. "That's the third tox I ran. Same result every time."

You stood up, turning to meet his eye. "Let's get this shit out of her system, please."

You walked out of the room, almost slamming face-first into your resident as the door shut behind you.

"Did you do your thing?" Dr. Cohen asked.

"I, uh--"

"She started to, but something weird happened, huh?" Derek supplied. He'd seen you break the rules with your mutation once or twice or enough to tell when you did.

"It was weird. Like her sick pushed against me. She has so much in her system she should be dead or close to it, but there's something to keep her standing," you told them.

"Which is?" Cohen asked.

"I... don't know."

"Okay, so go find out." Cohen flashed her brown eyes between you and Hannah.

You sighed and shook your head before shutting your eyes and willing the hustle and bustle of the ER to go quiet for just a moment. You let your ability reach out once again, tendrils of invisible power creeping toward Hannah in her bed. You let it lace through every drug in her system, finding familiar things like acetaminophen and penicillin, the odd things like an antidepressant, and the less familiar things you were assuming were things like cocaine and meth, until you found... nothing.

"There's nothing there."

Derek and Cohen stared at you.

"What?" Derek asked.

"All that must be a front. She just has the flu." You looked between the puzzled expression the two shared.

"A flu that came on in less than fifteen minutes," Cohen supplied.

"I'm not saying that's all it is, or all that's gonna develop." You shoved the chart back into Derek's hands. "You should admit her for observation. I need a cup of coffee."

Your phone rang again hours later and as it flashed on the table of the breakroom, you found yourself hesitant to answer.

"Hi, Matt," you said as you brought the phone up to your ear.

"Good evening," he said, his voice silky and husky and you wanted to hang up.

"Hi."

"Are you walking home tonight?"

"Alone," you said. Not the smartest idea, all things considered, but you knew when someone was going to sneak up on you. You were an Avenger for fuck's sake. You could walk home alone tonight.

His voice dropped imperceptibly lower. "What happened?"

"Nothing," you said, carefully keeping emotion out of your voice. "Busy night. And, plus, I don't really need a lawyer anymore, since the Accords were revoked. So."

Matt laughed dryly, and you felt like you could imagine his face on the other end of the phone. He sighed. "You know I can hear your heartbeat through the phone, right?"

"You're so full of shit."

"You're lying to me. Why are you blowing me off?"

"Cause I'm a big girl, Murdock!" You dragged a hand over your face. Attachment was not your style, even Steve knew that, but this guy was making that very difficult. "I don't need you trying to sneak into my bed every night."

"You have got to stop with the lying, it's getting you nowhere with me."

You screwed up your face. "Goodbye, Matt." And you hung up the phone.

Matt was not having a good night.

He went out on patrol like he did most nights. Like you told him to that night. That was where he'd called you from, a rooftop in Hell's kitchen. Maybe he did go seeking out trouble. Getting into fights he didn't need to be in. He wasn't unaccustomed to getting his ass kicked. No one knew more than Matt Murdock what pavement tasted like. What differed tonight from most nights, though, was the level at which he got his ass kicked.

Whatever he was stuck with, it knocked him on his ass for a good ten minutes. Groggy and disorienting, like every cell was magnetized to the floor. His throat hurt, probably a symptom of being out in the cold all night. Even Daredevil wasn't immune to the common cold. He hauled himself off the floor with great effort, shocked his assailant left him there, and a little upset with himself he let the guy get away.

He was beaten and bruised and thoroughly feverish as he sat on the subway to Brooklyn.

He didn't want to show up on your doorstep. And you'd made it very clear you didn't want anything to do with him. But he was tired, and everything ached, and if anyone could fix his potentially broken rib, it would be you.

So, no, he didn't really blame you for the shock when you opened the door to your condo and found him slumped against the doorframe.

"Matt?" Your voice was high and indignant.

"I don't--" He fell forward, and you caught him taking off his mask.

"What the hell happened?" you demanded.

"Lost a fight," he managed, letting you guide him to the couch. He felt... some sort of tickle. Something that relaxed his muscles and felt soft, like how he imagined your skin felt.

"Matt, what the hell? Who did you get in a fight with?"

"I don't--" He grunted in pain, then relief as the pain in his ribs subsided.

He felt your face contort in pain, and your breath hitch.

"Don't--" he started.

"What happened?" you tried again.

His body started to feel light, so light, as if he were floating. Then he felt you slump against him, and suddenly, sleep was grabbing at his senses. He tried his hardest to resist it, tried to shake you awake, but he just ended up falling asleep, a hand snaking into your hair.

#my desire to be back in school rly popped out here #rip my nonexistent career #this is really not proof read sorry #its okay im moving to florida to work for disney in like a week so thats cool as hell #emmmaswrites #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock x fem!reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction

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shotorozu · 4 years ago

Note

hellooo i saw this tiktok video and was wondering if you can please do this for shoto kaminari and bakugou

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSJkeaV68/

‘i got a big fat 😳🎂’

character(s) : todoroki shouto, kaminari denki, bakugou katsuki (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff, crack (x reader)

note(s) : LMAO ANON YOU LITERALLY READ MY MIND?? I WAS GOING TO DO THIS EVEN WITHOUT A REQUEST— great to know that i have the same thinking process with you 🤩

»»————-　♡　————-««

todoroki shouto

noooow

you know shouto’s always willing to do tiktok challenges with you— he might be clueless when it came to social media (because of end**vor)

but! he’s gotten used to your antics most of them anyway

but he’s sort of confused when you show him a video of a couple uh.. walking?? he can’t tell what they’re doing exactly

“what,, are they doing?” is what he asked when you showed him the tiktok, brows furrowed in confusion

“they’re uh.. kekeing how do i explain it— nevermind that! just do whatever i do, shouto!”

he’s still confused as hell 🧍‍♀️ but he decides to not ask any questions, and push through with it, just by seeing the excited look on your face

and the audio 😳 i mean, it’s not,, wrong. to him, your cake is some fine ass cake :))

you lead him out of the frame, and you hit play— not giving shouto time to ‘rehearse’

it might seem to be that shouto has no reaction to the audio, but if you look closely— the corners of his lips are tugged upwards slightly

and he follows your every command, when you gesture for him to copy you.

now, shouto’s got the dance steps down, but man’s terribly stiff 😭 he also kept looking at you (specifically your ass) to see if he was doing things correctly

afterwards, the two of you take a look at the video. and, he asks you if the tiktok needs to be filmed once again by your silent reaction

but he’s appalled when he sees you literally driven to tears from pure, unfiltered laughter

you assure him with a kiss that you’re fine, and insist that the tiktok is fine as you upload it— and you cuddle with shouto for the rest of the day, letting the tiktok marinate

the next day comes by, and tiktok BLEW UP. like.. blew up, really. they should be honored that they’ve witnessed shouto strut to nicki minaj

the comments being well, absolutely hilarious. you could read through the comments again and again, and not be bored

“mann your boyfriend 😭 he’s staring too hard” “YUHH GET IT, I GUESS” “go hot couple go ‼️”

needless to say, he didn’t hear the end of the conversation when bakugou found out about the tiktok

kaminari denki

if denki had a list of tiktok challenges he desperately wanted to do at some point in his life,

this would be in the top 3, for sure

so, luck seemed to be on his side when you approached him first— wanting to rope him in on another tiktok you wanted to do with him

hopefully one that doesn’t center him as the poor unfortunate victim

“you wanna do another tiktok?” he beams when you nod, and when you show him what the prank is— he’s excited!!

you can clearly tell that it didn’t take that much convincing

the blond’s also thankful that it’s not another tiktok that needs him to ask bakugou if he can say pegasus but without the pega 💀

“alright! tell me when we can do it,”

“right now.”

so here he is, standing beside you, as you set up your phone— absolutely confident on what he’s going to do

the tiktok starts running, and denki might’ve underestimated his eagerness, when the camera captures his eager expression 💀

there was no jumpscare warning

and you didn’t even have to say ‘c’mon‼️’ for him to follow your movements. as soon as you turned your back, he started moving along with you, and the music.

he was watching your movements, and he tried copying them to the best of his sloppy, hyper and exaggerated abilities

denki was so excited about being in the tiktok, to the point he literally crashed behind you— making the both of you tumble to the floor, laughing

and the tiktok’s results are pretty much unknown to him— minus the fact that you laughed HARDER when you re-watched the tiktok

“can i see?” he asks eagerly, but you swiftly reject— shoving his head away from your screen with a hand.

he pouts when you say “the results are a surprise!” a bummer, but he chooses to trust you, and the rest of the day is spent on the floor in pure enjoyment

you upload the tiktok and slowly but surely, it attracts people’s attention

because of denki’s eagerness— he,, did a fantastic job with the walk! you can even say that he did better than you, minus the not so graceful fall

even the comments agree with you “MAN HIS CAKE IS THANGING‼️” “he did awfully well omg 💀” “oh to have this relationship’s energy 😔 when can i find a dude like that?”

and when denki finally sees the tiktok’s results, he’s left in tears from laughing— reduced into wheezes

DANK-i : BABE WHDJWKDKE THE TIKTOK YOU JUST POSTED— 😭💀💀 IM IN TEARS

safe to say, his wish has been fulfilled, and he can pass away at any given moment, satisfied.

bakugou katsuki

bakugou katsuki will never admit that he does enjoy doing tiktoks with you

plot twist : he enjoys it a lot more than he expects

but he knows where the draw the line, and the line was at the new tiktok you’ve showed to him

“no.”

“but—”

“fuck no— if you wanted to twerk infront of a camera, go ahead by all means, just don’t rope me into it.”

he does have his reasons. one— the bakusquad will make fun of him, and two— if the tiktok were to blow up,, he wouldn’t live it down.

and it always does— he knows that tiktoks do particularly well if he makes an appearance.

“if i didn’t post it, would you do it with me?”

but katsuki seemed to be fine with that. with a roll of the eyes, he sighs— looking at the tiktok once again. he gets up from his seat when the tiktok’s over

“let’s do this fucking thing.” he says with determination, even though no one was going to see the tiktok anyway or so he thinks

the tiktok’s video timer starts counting down, giving the both of you guys ample time to get into position

a smirk couldn’t be held back when you state that “i have a big phat 🎂” it’s anything but lies, and it would be the only time katsuki would smile on camera

you go forward, and you gesture for him to follow on beat— with a focused glare, katsuki starts strutting with you like no one’s business

it’s at a slow pace, and people would’ve guessed that he had a stick up his ass, sure— but damn‼️ he has those moves.

and before the video actually ends, he’s seen turning around with a glare— to see if the camera’s not filming it’s still running, and the camera captures his expression

“not bad.” he can’t help but smirk at the results, when you replay the video “i’m referring to the both of us. and, didn’t know you could move like that.”

“katsuki, your pace was like a grandfather’s—”

“shut the hell up!”

but little did katsuki know, when he wasn’t looking, you published the tiktok online, for everyone to view (basically, 3M people have seen him strut to nicki minaj)

the comments were having a blast “we’ll disregard the pace, buT DAMN‼️WHERE DID HE GET THOSE MOVES?” “LOL HIS FACE AT THE END WAS LIKE👹🤨” “y’all catch that at the beginning? woooh he’s lovesick.”

when you woke up the next morning— you can hear the boom of his quirk outside of your room, and you can practically hear his not so happy voice

fly high 😔🕊 you will be missed

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

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thebigoblin · 3 years ago

Text

about 5.07

yes this is about 9 1 1 show, and yes I did write this in a reblog to one post that was one more too many (the post I am talking about), but I just wanted to reiterate my love for this episode, even if most people did not like it.

This is an exact copy/paste of what I said in the reblog:

Buck and Eddie are not the only characters in the show.

Listen. I, too, kept wondering where Eddie was (most probably with Chris, after Bobby/his therapist forced Eddie to just take a day for himself, given his history), and felt rather bereft without that weekly dose of Buddie DumbSassery, but it isn’t a Wrong Move on the show’s part. It’s pretty clever actually to focus on the other characters, other plots (like the Jeffery one) while still moving forward in the most in-character way they can manage.

We see May handle her own, without Claudette coming to her “rescue”.

We see Harry’s trauma get resolved, and in a rather satisfactory way as well. Harry believes no one else has gone through what he has, that no one understands him, but the Detective talks to him, and wow I hadn’t thought of that parallel before, but that makes so much sense. Harry getting to see the Detective be at work again is the inspiration for him choosing to go back to his childhood home.

Honestly, I loved the Grant Family moments this episode. (Not adding Nash because tbh Bobby was just… there, this episode, nothing more).

Hen and Eva’s storyline got wrapped up. Yes, it seemed so out of the blue, but Eva has been a ghost to Hen and Karen for years now, in fact through Karen’s own admission Eva’s very existence haunted her. Confronting that fact this episode was a pretty neat, the theme fit, plus now we can be 99% sure Eva won’t be back! Plus this gives closure to them all.

We also see Chimney talking to Hen, and we get the confirmation that Chimney has forgiven Buck to some degree—"Buck said [Maddie’s location]“ is a clear indication that they talked to each other, that Chimney chose to finally answer Buck’s calls, was ready to face his friend after their last meeting (even if that was through a call).

Chimney is still connected to the 118, even as he chases after a ghost—Maddie. He hasn’t gone "off the rails” in his pursuit (which is a Very Real thing that can happen, and is a somewhat famous trope I believe, except Chimney has Jee-Yun, (and distantly Hen) to ground him) and is very much capable of logical thinking (proven by the fact that Chimney saved that baby).

What I’m trying to get to is this: We see Chimney’s progress in his goal. Literally. The show gave us Chimney’s progress in his own sub-plot. (And the ghost theme worked well with a blast from the past, aka Chimney’s former mentor, Eli).

Then there’s Maddie. She’s making progress, too, even if it’s off-screen. But we learn another vital thing here: she is where she had been once, with Doug, arguably her biggest demon (I’d say her Postpartum Depression is an even bigger demon, because this is internal, she has to get better and that is all she can do here, she can’t run away from her demon this time) and that just, again, fits with the theme. She’s chasing her worst memories to remind herself that she has faced worse before, that she has come up on top even then.

I’m sorry, but despite Buddie being one of my favorite ships too—because of the fandom, really, and the amazing metas I get to see, because let’s be honest there is a lot of jumping jacks of the brain needed when it comes to this show—I can’t get over how the fandom has been after this episode. 5×07 is definitely not a filler episode (unless your sole purpose for watching the show is Buddie only), it has great substance if you look for it, if you can get past your vehement need of having your OTP be in all the episodes. Season 1 wasn’t so bad, was it?

And oh, lest I forget, Taylor Kelly. We seem to be heading towards a “Taykay Begins” sort of episode, and I’m excited. She’s going to be given some backstory, something other than a “Career Focused Individual” and “Buck’s Red-Headed Hot Girlfriend.” Remember when y'all complained about Ana Flores just being a prop? Yeah, I think the show writers heard you. (Actually not, since changing scripts so fast would be hard I imagine, but still, you know what I mean).

So, yeah. 5×07 wasn’t a bad episode, it wasn’t a filler episode, and it wasn’t a flop. It just focused more on the other people on the show, and I for one loved it. 9 1 1 show is about humans and their path to healing and contentment even after the worst of tragedies have hit, it’s not a Romance show, even though romance does weave itself beautifully in the narrative that is the 9 1 1. So yeah. Good Episode.

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nicistrying · 2 years ago

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I am Not Feeling It today. Honestly considered going back to bed and calling in sick to work, the only reason I didn't is that Matt is working midday til late so I'd have been on my own again all day and would have gotten even more sad lol. At least if I'm at work I have stuff to focus on, people around me and less time to brood when I get home later 😂 Uncle Manager is back now too and I need to see him bc he text me yesterday just saying 'you didn't tell me there was drama last week' (referring to the nightmare shift where the young lad was lashing out, the older lady was crying bc he kept shouting at her and I was ready to walk bc I was trying to mediate between them an hour after my shift had ended as well as doing all the extra management shit I had been left with). And I explained I didn't want to mention it whem he was on holiday obvs but everyone was just stressed and overwelmed and tired, and that it's fine now (I think). And he ignored that and only responded to my question did he want me to start early today. So I know I'm being silly but I'm scared he's going to be pissed off with me bc idk who told him about the drama or what kind of lens they'll have had on it bc I don't think I acted out of order, I didn't raise my voice or lash out or say anything I didn't mean. I literally was just trying to get them to get on with their work. Anyway so here I am at 6.22am about to leave. Wish me luck 😒 wish I had some time off to look forward to soon but I still have another 6 weeks to work until my week off. Everyone else has had at least one week off recently so while everyone else is feeling a bit refreshed I'm here still exhausted. But it is what it is. I can do it, with enough George Ezra and Lizzo blasting on my way in. Happy Tuesday all, feel free to reblog with a lil selfie and an update on your day!

#personal #work #tuesday #good morning

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ghoulangerlee · 2 years ago

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But You're Screaming So Loud ; E

this post is so late, I'm sorry. But! I did the reverse big bang this year and wrote a fic for the wonderful art that @queen-of-badomens did!

So much of this fic was either a) typed on my phone with one hand when I was trying to deal with a bad carpal tunnel flare up(with PT and medication treatment, almost surgery but I persevered) and b) typed frantically after midnight after I gained the ability to use both hands again haha.

Post is late because literally the day I was assigned to post, I started moving all of our belongings to our new apartment and then I caught COVID again while waiting on WiFi to be turned on at the new place...

(also?? look at this lovely header?? I've never had a header for a fic of mine before???)

Anyway, working with Em was an absolute blast and I'm only sorry that my Life and Health decided to intervene so much while doing this. Please please go check out the art post and give lots of love and reblogs to that <3

Fic is here, please heed the tags and the chapter warnings <3 and above all, I hope you enjoy!

Summary:

Someone's taking photos of Nicky, and while that seems a very mundane thing, it doesn't feel like it. There's large quantities of them, traveling at the speed of light to somewhere and while it seems harmless at first, Nicky still feels off-center by the amount of photos, all of him, in different places, days and times.

What starts out as a relaxing vacation, quickly turns into something so much more.

Closing and locking the door behind himself, he turns and walks over to the couch, sitting down heavily, sinking into the cushions and almost immediately turning himself into Joe’s side, “A few months was enough rest, right?” he asks, tired, trying to keep his tone light and joking. “At least no one’s shooting at us.”

#togrbb22 #The Old Guard Reverse Big Bang 2022 #my writing #im not sure what other tags this needs to have haha #enjoy it tho!

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oikawaplssteponme · 4 years ago

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locked lips

pairing: Pro Hero! Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

ratings/warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI [please im literally begging you], swearing, legal consumption of alcohol, slight praise, fingering, use of the name ‘baby’, deku being a little bit of a cocky jerk, unprotected intercourse, make-up sex

genre: ex’s to lovers, smut, aged up characters, fluff/angst (?)

word count: ~2.2k words

synopsis: You broke up with him on impulse. That doesn’t mean you stopped loving him. Now you’re back at his place, at a party you planned, with him looking just so desirable. What else were you to do?

a/n: hi hi! alright friends, this being my first nsfw post i cannot stress enough how important it is that minors don’t interact. if i catch any minors interacting with this post, ill delete this post and block them, which i obviously don’t want to have to do. just please respect these rules :)) anyway, reblogs are greatly appreciated and enjoy xx

You scrolled through your phone, mindlessly. You tried your best not to double tap on any of the pictures on your screen. The last thing you needed was for him to know you were stalking his page.

“You should start getting ready,” said Uraraka. You looked over at her, cocking a brow.

“Uh I'm not going?” you huffed. Uraraka sat down beside you.

“Don’t be like that Y/N. You still have to go tonight, regardless of Deku.”

“The party is at Deku’s house. I’d look like a total idiot showing my face there after we broke up.”

You sat up and crossed your arms. Ochaco sighed. She grabbed your shoulders.

“Y/N, you are gonna go to the party and make Deku regret his entire life. Anyway, I’m bringing you as my plus one, so you have to come!”

You sighed. “Fine, but I’m staying with you the whole night.”

Ochaco smiled and gave you a quick hug. She got up and began scanning through her closet again.

You had been staying with Uraraka since you and Izuku had broken up. It was a blow out fight. You yelled at him for caring about work more than you. He shouted at you for not being understanding of his career. The words you meant mixed with the words you didn’t, and chaos erupted between you and him. So, you packed a bag and left. You didn’t want to, but you were done.

While you and Deku were still together, you helped him plan an event for him and his fellow Pro Heroes, as an opportunity for them all to get together. Now, you would be attending that same event. Only, not with him.

“Who would’ve thought there’d be a day where I’d have too many clothes to choose from,” laughed Ochaco. You smiled.

“You should wear that pink dress Iida bought you for your birthday. I don’t think you’ve worn it out yet.”

“You think? It’s not too much…”

“Of course not! You’ll look hot,” you teased. Ochaco smiled.

“Alright alright I’ll wear it. But then you have to wear this!” She pulled out a bag from her closet and handed it to you.

“Please don’t tell me you bought me something…”

“I had to! All your clothes are still at his place...and I wanted to make sure you felt good tonight.”

You gave Ochaco a nudge and pulled out the tissue paper. You felt the soft material in between your fingertips, pulling it out from the bag.

“Uraraka...”

“No need to thank me. You’ve been through hell and back these last few weeks, the least I could do is get you a pretty dress.”

You jumped towards your friend, engulfing her in a hug.

“Thank you.”

“Hey now, let’s get ready! The limousine will be here in just a few hours!”

You sat in the back of the limo with Ochaco as you were on your way to Deku’s party. You looked like a million bucks. A little part of you hoped someone would take notice.

The estate where Izuku lived was gated off. Once you were let inside, you could see the beaming lights from the top of the hill. You felt your stomach clench, nerves building inside of you. You wanted to see him, but you also didn’t want to see him doing better without you. You haven’t even been apart that long. A month maybe? Certainly not long enough for him to be over you, because you certainly weren’t over him.

“Oh wow, Deku went all out!” cheered Ochaco. You looked to see the endless decorations and glamor that surrounded you.

“Yeah, these were my ideas,” you mumbled. Ochaco placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t stress about it. Let’s just have fun, okay?”

You exited the vehicle and began to make your way inside. Champagne fountains and blasting music greeting you. His house was just as extraordinary as you remembered it. Nothing less than perfect for the No. 1 Hero.

“Uravity! Y/N!”

You turned to see your friend Iida, plus others from your old days at UA.

“You two are looking stunning tonight!” smiled Kirishima.

“Why thank you, it’s all thanks to this one,” you chuckled, giving Ochaco a nudge.

“I honestly didn’t expect to see you here tonight Y/N,” said Shoto. You shrugged.

“Well, I was invited after all. So Mr. Number One Hero can deal with it,” you huffed.

“Sounds like you could use a drink.”

Kaminari handed you a glass of champagne, which you took happily. You clinked glasses with your friends before dousing the beverage down.

“It’s gonna be a long night,” you mumbled to yourself.

You found yourself on the living room couch of Izuku’s large complex. You watched as Pro Heroes danced mindlessly with far too many drinks in their systems. You chuckled. At least they’re having fun.

You hadn’t seen Izuku all night, which was strange considering this was his party. You looked over to the glass staircase, knowing more than well that his bedroom was upstairs. You knew the layout like the back of your hand, after all, you lived here for a year.

You knew all your stuff had to be upstairs. You only had time to pack a small bag the day you left. Surely he wasn’t awful enough to throw your things away. You got up from the couch and quietly made your way up the stairs, hoping no one saw you sneak away from the action of the party.

His bedroom was at the end of the hallway. The doors were closed. You placed your shaky hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly. It was unlocked.

You stepped inside. The smell of his cologne filled your senses, causing memories to flood in as well. His room was neat, as if no one had been sleeping in it. You turned to the closet. All your clothing should be on the right side.

“Sneaking around?”

You jumped, removing your hand from the closet handle. You turned around slowly.

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t burn my shit,” you huffed. Izuku chuckled. He took a few steps towards you, opening the closet.

“Don’t paint me as a villain Y/N. All your things are safe and sound.”

Your side of the closet was just as you left it. Exactly how you left it. You looked back to Izuku.

“Perfect. Then I’ll be taking it with me when I leave-”

“I’m surprised you came at all. I figured you’d want to be as far away from here as possible.”

“I didn’t come for you, I came for Ochaco.”

“Oh right.”

Deku took a step back, placing his hands in his pockets. That devilish smile stared you down, causing your face to burn. You could see the outline of his muscles through his white button down.

“You look incredible by the way. New dress?” he smirked. You rolled your eyes.

“Well since all my clothes were here, yes.”

“Well serves you right for leaving out of nowhere.”

Your eyes widened and you clenched your fists.

“I didn’t leave out of nowhere, I left because you cared more about your job than me!”

“That’s not true-”

“To hell it is! I was tired of being second to everything so I left!”

Izuku took a deep breath and stepped closer to you. He placed his hand under your chin, having you look at him.

“I didn’t want to break up.”

Your breathing got heavier without you even realizing it. You also didn’t realize that Midoriya had you pressed against the closet door.

“I-I didn’t want to either…” you whispered. Izuku smiled.

“Then tell me baby, why did we?”

“B-Because I didn’t know what else to do…”

Izuku brushed his thumb against your cheek, then took a step back.

“Look, I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was to make you feel under-appreciated...but-”

Izuku moved closer to you again, pinning your arms to your sides and pressing his torso against you all in a swift motion.

“-I can think of a better way to prove it to you.”

You tried to catch your breath. All you wanted was him at this exact moment. Was that a good thing? Of course not. Did you care? Of course not.

“Then prove it to me.”

Izuku wasted little time in moving you onto his California-king. He pinned you down onto the mattress and instantly kissed you. You felt the rush of butterflies swarm your stomach. You hated how much you had missed this.

Deku let go of your wrists and you began to unbutton his shirt. With little patience, he helped you from out of your dress. He dived back down, locking lips with you once more. You dragged your nails down his back, listening as soft groans escaped his lips. He moved down to kiss and suck on your neck.

“Fuck~” was all you were able to get out. Izuku’s hands grazed your burning body, feeling the skin that he had been craving since the day you left. He snaked his hand to your back, unbuckling your bra easily.

“I’ve still got it…” he teased. He threw the bra to the floor and gave you little time to breathe before kissing you again. You ran your fingers through his fluffy hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

“Izuku...please…”

His puppy dog eyes stared back at you.

“What is it?”

You panted heavily, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I need you.”

A smirk creeped onto his face. Izuku kissed your cheek.

“I promised I was gonna prove it to you, wasn’t I?”

Izuku sat up, unbuckling his belt. He slid off his pants and boxers. You caught a glimpse of him, causing your body to feel on fire. Midoriya placed his head in between your legs. He teasingly kissed your inner thighs, keeping his hands glued onto them. The anticipation was practically killing you.

“Izuku-”

“Patience baby...I’m in no rush…”

He moved up to your underwear, biting onto one of the strings and pulling it down. They were practically soaked already. Same with your bra, he tossed them to the floor.

He continued to kiss and nip at your thighs, inching impossibly closer to you. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed Izuku up and kissed him feverishly.

“So eager baby~”

“Please just fuck me,” you whispered. Izuku chuckled. He licked his lips.

“As you wish.”

Izuku spread your legs apart, dipping one of his fingers inside of you with ease. You arched your back, letting out a moan, and gripping onto his arm tightly.

“That’s it baby~”

Midoriya slipped another finger in, stretching you out even more. You clenched around him as he added more pressure.

He removed his fingers and better adjusted himself above you. He held his cock in his hand before slowly pushing it inside of you.

You didn’t remember him ever feeling this good.

Izuku began to thrust into you, slow at first before building in speed. You could feel yourself clenching around him, sweat forming on your skin. Midoriya groaned with each movement as he pushed even deeper. He kissed you as he fucked you, though you were such a mess you could barely keep up.

He knew exactly how to get you worked up.

“Oh god...I’m c-close,” you mumbled.

“Not yet…”

Midoriya moved his hand down, taking his thumb and rubbing your needy clit. You gripped onto him even harder, digging your nails into his skin as he pushed you over the edge.

“Oh fuck-fuck-”

“Fuck baby, I-I love you-I’m sorry-” he stuttered out.

“I-I love you t-too. Fuck Izuku- I’m gonna cum-”

“Cum with me baby-”

Izuku went even harder as he reached his climax, following you. You let out a pleasure filled scream as you let go. Izuku laid on top of you, catching his breath as your body shook below him.

He looked up at you, brushing his hair back.

“I love you,” he repeated, in case you didn’t believe him the first time. You smiled.

“I love you too.”

You had forgotten all about the party that was occurring below you. As you got redressed to head back down to meet Ochaco, you felt Izuku grab your hand.

“What is it?” you asked him. Midoriya took your other hand as he stood before you.

“I really am sorry. I don’t want you to leave again,” he explained. You sighed. You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing his cheek.

“It’s okay, I won’t.”

You walked downstairs with Izuku, his hand interlocked with yours. You watched as Ochaco’s jaw dropped at the sight of you.

“Oh so that’s where you were for the last hour and a half?” she huffed. You chuckled nervously.

“Yeah sorry…”

“Well the limo is here to take us back home, or are you staying here?” she asked. You looked up at Midoriya.

“I’m staying.”

Soon the Midoriya residence was quiet, just you and him remained. You curled up with him on the couch, his arms holding you tightly as he kissed your head.

“You wanna know why I didn’t get rid of any of your things?” he said. You laughed.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I knew you’d be back.”

•

reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

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dontworrysunflower · 4 years ago

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Merry Fucking Christmas | h.s.

a/n: i’m baaaaccckk!! lol idk it took me a while to finish this and i was gonna have it finished before christmas but then i was exposed to covid so i was little paranoid but anyway (i’m good tho). merry christmas and happy holidays!! i know this years been hard but hopefully we can make it a little better :)

warnings: drinking, angst?? idk not proof read word vomit, some language too

word count: 3.1k

also thank you @watchmegetobsessed !!

feedback/reblogs appreciated

You knew the holidays this year were going to be difficult. You procrastinated on getting gifts for your friends. Your work seemed to pile up on your desk since you got your promotion. You weren’t able to fly back home, and you still had some thanksgiving weight you weren’t able to put off.

Oh yeah, another thing. Harry was still with his girlfriend.

You met Katy, Harry’s girlfriend, at his birthday party in February. She was the epitome of ‘his type’. She had bleach blonde extensions and the bluest eyes you've ever seen. She was tall and really, really loud.

Since then, she’s all he ever talked about when they weren’t together, but when they were in the same room, boy did you want to gag.

You thought they would last maybe three to four months, you were so sure, you bet with some of your other friends.

Needless to say, you lost quite a lot of money.

You tried not to let it bother you, really. But it was so hard when Harry is the literal sweetest person you’ve met, had the voice of an angel and wasn’t bad to look at.

You felt you were the closest with Harry when you moved to London. He made you feel welcome in your little friends group. There was a little flirting game between the two of you that you didn’t even notice until one of your friends brought it up.

“Oh c’mon, it’s so obvious you like each other.” Margot slurred, her second glass clinking against the table as she finished every drop.

“What?” You asked, baffled. Your eyes were wide and your face started to heat up. “He doesn’t like me.”

“But you like him?” Ava, a friend from work, smirked at you.

You stumbled on your words, wiping at the condensation on your glass.

But since he was in a relationship now, you felt almost icky around him. You felt so uncomfortable around him that you did whatever you could to not be in the same room as him.

You were ready for the holidays, you thought. It would give you a break from constantly thinking about him being so busy with your family back in your hometown.

You should’ve known London weather wouldn’t be in your favor. It rained constantly everyday and the fog seemed to get closer to the ground every other day. The weather was getting so bad that you started working from home, the roads too wet and icy to drive on. So honestly, you weren’t that surprised when airports closed due to the weather, meaning you had to spend Christmas in London.

With Harry.

The day after flights were cancelled Harry texted on your group chat saying he could host a dinner and party on Christmas eve and everyone was invited. You watched texts from your other friends flood in, some excited vulgar words were thrown in there as well.

You never responded. Not only because you still felt weird around him for having this massive crush on him, but because things haven’t really been the same between you two.

You can’t remember the last time you had a full on conversation with him before you had to excuse yourself because you couldn’t take the ache in your chest when you were around him, and he wasn’t yours. You can’t remember the last joke he ever told you or when you went out for lunch or drinks when it was only the two of you. You were sure he noticed how weird you were around him, but never said anything, so you let it be.

As the day neared, your mind would change on whether you were going or not. You didn’t want to seem bitchy and cold on what was supposed to be the happiest and cheerful day of the year, so you thought you would go. You thought of every reason you shouldn’t go that had nothing to do with Harry, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle seeing him cozy up with his very serious girlfriend.

But there would be alcohol, so you decided to go.

•••

Hey (y/n)! Think you come over early and help me set up for tomorrow? H xx

You stared at the text for what seemed like hours, but it was only a couple seconds. Before you could even register what your fingers were doing, you tied up a quick message and hit send before you could stop yourself.

Of course!! See you tomorrow!

You hated yourself for the rest of the day. Why would you do this to yourself? You could barely be in the same room as him and some other friends. How would you survive being alone before the party started?

•••

The butterflies in your stomach have not been able to settle since you woke up Christmas Eve morning. Just the thought of seeing him made you nervous. You almost didn’t get out of bed that morning. But you pat yourself on the back when your feet finally hit your wooden flooring and moved on with your day.

Your shoulders hung low beside you as the time to meet up grew closer, the sun lowering behind you, Christmas lights and inflatable decorations coming to life as stars dotted the sky.

You sighed heavily as you styled your hair and naturally did your makeup.

You slid on your silky, tight dress and grabbed your coat and quickly made your way to your car to get away from the bitter cold.

You rubbed your hands together, blowing into them to regain some feeling before turning the key into the ignition, quickly turning the heater on, Mariah Carey blasting through your speakers.

You were about to pull out of your driveway, mumbling along to Mariah’s notes when you realized you forgot the gifts.

•••

Your shoulders were hunched up as you knocked on the white door, your foot tapping against the brick stairs of Harry’s house as you waited for him to open it in the freezing cold.

You could hear shuffling from the other side and watched the doorknob wiggle, Harry having trouble with his lock since June and still hasn’t had anyone fix it.

The door swings open to reveal Harry in his glory, brown corduroy pants and an ugly Christmas sweater under an apron that’s tied around his slender waist that you’ve always been jealous of.

“Hey, sorry, come on in.” Harry said to you before moving out of the way, a bowl nestled between his side and his arm.

You mumbled a quiet thank you before stepping in, your cheeks reddening at the warmth enveloping you as you walked through the foyer of his home.

“Mm,” he hummed as he remembered something. He puts down the bowl he had on his white kitchen counter and waddles over to you, a small curve on his lips as he wrapped his arms around you. “Merry Christmas, love.”

You hate that nickname. But you don’t. You hate the butterflies that flutter in your stomach when he says that word. You hate the goosebumps it causes you and the hairs sticking up on your neck when he says the one thing you feel too harshly for him. And you hate how much he doesn’t feel it back.

“Merry Christmas, Harry.” You mumbled into his neck, his cologne flooding your senses bringing you comfort.

He doesn’t let go of you yet, but he backs up just a little to see you. “You look gorgeous, (y/n).”

The air gets stuck in your lungs and you almost forgot how to formulate words. You hoped Harry thought the pigment on your cheeks would be from the cold because it totally was. Before it was obvious how his words affected you, you stuttered out a few words. “Thank you, you look nice too.”

He chuckled at you, the breath passing his lips hitting your neck, a tingle passing through your spine. “You don’t have to lie, darling.” He squeezed you one last time before letting you go, your body instantly becoming colder as he backed away.

There's a low hum of Christmas music playing in his surround sound system, a tall tree tucked in a corner between his burning fireplace and window looking out onto the street.

You turn your attention back to Harry as he speaks up again, his famous dimples puncturing his cheeks. “Thanks fo’ comin’ early to help me out.”

You rolled your coat off your shoulders and hung by the door, walking up to him as he moved around the kitchen. “Oh yeah, it’s no problem. Not like I had anything else to do.”

He gave you a small sympathetic smile before throwing a tray full of greens into the oven. “I’m sorry you couldn’t go see your family.”

You shrug as you run your finger on the edge of his marble counter. “It’s alright, nothing I can do much anyway.” You perk up when you remember what you’re doing here so early in the first place. “Guess that’s why I’m here, no? What can I help you with?” Your heels click as you move around the counter closer to him.

“Nope.” His lips puckered as he pushed you back to where you were standing. “Just stand there and talk to me. Wine?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you blindly nod, watching him uncork a bottle of Moscato. Your favorite.

He hands you a glass of the sparkling wine before turning back around to the dishes, prepping food of all kinds for everyone and most importantly; eggnog.

“But, you said you needed my help.”

He chuckled nervously, his cheeks reddening. From your comment or from the wine? You weren’t going to get your hopes up. “I just need some company before the party. Just stand there and look pretty.”

You try your hardest ignore the blush on your cheeks. You twirl the wine glass from the neck, watching the liquid swirl around in the depths of the glass. “What about Katy?”

He sighs deeply, opening the oven to check on the food. “We’ve been kind of fighting lately.”

You did your best to stop the grin from forming on your lips, hoping he did notice your sudden burst at the new information. They are still together, so you can’t act on anything. “I’m sorry. Can I ask what’s going on?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know really. Anything and everything. Every little thing I do annoys her and anything she does annoys me. It just wasn’t the same.”

“Is she coming?” You ask before you can think about it.

He shrugs again, shoulders hanging more than usual. “I don’t think so. She said she was staying home since she can‘t fly back to her family either.”

A silence hangs between the two of you when neither of you said anything, not really sure of what needs to be said next.

“I don’t think I feel the same way for her as I did in the beginning.” Harry mumbled, arms crossed over his chest as his hip leaning against the counter, his usually bright eyes a little darker, a little sadder.

You walk up to him and lay your hand on his shoulder, giving him a small smile. “It’s not my business but, if you really feel that way, you shouldn’t lead her on, it’ll only hurt both of you.”

Harry looks down at the floor as he nods. “Thanks, love.”

There’s a wave of silence between you again as he raises his head to look at you. You almost felt small under his gaze. Something about his crystal green eyes always made you nervous. You were scared he could see what you were really thinking.

And you also swear his eyes fell to your lips.

•••

The dinner party was in full swing now, people’s laughter bleeding in with the loud Christmas music playing around the house. Some people were dancing in front of the fireplace, drinks being refilled every once in a while.

You were standing by the counter with your friends, Margot and Ava, chatting and drinking your eggnog instead of the wine you had before the party started. You had completely forgotten about the wonderful man hosting this party, the conversation you had earlier with him slipping your mind as the drink in your hand lowered to the bottom of the glass, intoxicating your thoughts.

Even though you offered to help, Harry didn’t let you help with the rest of dinner before everyone came over, so now the food still wasn’t ready as people flooded in. You heard him say something about potatoes and that was as much as you knew of the food preparation and when you would be able to eat.

The music is lowered a bit and then a clicking sound was heard, everyone turning their heads towards Harry, who clinked a fork against his glass. “Dinner is ready!”

Everyone cheered and started making their way towards the dining room. Most people had already filtered towards the next room when a knock on the front door was heard.

You turned your head as Harry twisted the knob. You were sure Harry's face mimicked yours when you saw who was standing at the doorway.

There stood Katy, hair newly bleached and a little overdressed.

She wasted no time in wrapping her arms around him, her plump lips repeatedly marking his face with the bright lipstick.

“Oh god,” you waltzed over towards Ava, who was pouring herself a new glass of eggnog. “pass me the eggnog, I can’t stand this sober.” You pushed her over slightly and grabbed the handle of the ladle she was using, filling up your cup almost to the brim.

Ava looked at you in curiosity at your sudden change, carefully looking over at the lovely couple still by the door. “Wait, I thought you told me they were fighting.” She whispered beside you, eyes widening as she watched you gulp down some of the eggnog you just served yourself to give yourself some more.

“Guess fucking not.” You were much less sober now, on the brink of tipsy and drunk. Your words slurred, eyelids heavy, vision blurry. “Let’s go fucking eat.” You dragged Ava by the wrist towards the commotion in the dining room, almost, but not quite forgetting about the couple behind you.

•••

You’ve had four glasses of eggnog. Or was it five? But now, you stand in front of the bowl, pouring some into your glass again, making it six.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” You hear his sultry voice behind you, his tone a little sassy and annoyed, but you didn’t care.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You slurred, turning around to face him. His pink lips were turned down in a frown, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration, his buff arms that were constricted in his sweater cross in front of his chest. “Gonna go kiss your girlfriend some more?” You stumbled on your feet, your drink almost spilling over the rim.

“What does that have to do with anything?” His face changed from annoyance to confusion. His thumb twisting the ring on his other finger nervously.

You open your mouth to retaliate, but even in this drunk state you knew not to say anything. You chug the creamy drink, keeping eye contact with him, watching his face change again. You didn’t care.

He obviously didn’t care either.

You sighed dramatically as you finished the drink. “Merry fucking Christmas.”

•••

You had sobered up quite a bit after your little encounter with Harry, mainly because there was no eggnog left.

You realized it was for the better though, so you made your way back into the kitchen, doing your best to not stumble or bump against anything as you grabbed an empty cup to fill with water.

“I am really sorry.” You knew his voice anywhere. But it wasn’t his usual chirpy, charming voice he had that always soothed you, it sounded more sad and somber.

“On Christmas? Out of any day you chose today?” Katy sniffled, voice wobbly and hurt.

“I know but, you know we can’t go on any longer, we’ll just hurt each other more.”

“I think I'm going to head out.”

You don’t hear Harry say anything back, but the sound of the door clicking open catches your attention and you almost turn around to watch.

“I just have one question.” Katy said weakly.

You walked away before you could hear anything else.

•••

Even though you were still a little upset at Harry (For what? You weren’t sure anymore), you stayed behind as everyone left to help him clean up before you head home.

You were putting things back in his refrigerator when you heard the front door close, the light chatter and drunken goodbyes silenced by the wooden door.

You kept your back towards the door, suddenly nervous of the words that would be spoken between the two of you.

“(y/n), can we talk?” Harry’s voice was low and sultry, your knees almost gave out.

“I should um-I should get going. It’s late.” You hurry around him to grab your things and for the door, but he holds your wrist.

“Please?” He sounded desperate, and for the first time in what felt like days you looked up into his emerald eyes. There was that desperate look in his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed and lips turned down into a frown.

You sigh and nod slowly.

He lets go of your wrist and stuffed his hands in his back pockets, his pink cheeks either from the cold or from nervousness.

“I’m sorry.” He said suddenly. “I didn’t mean to get mad and I know I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Is that it?

You weren’t going to lie, you thought he would profess his love to you or something.

“I um- I also,” he swallows and takes your hand, his rings cold to the touch. “I broke up with Katy.”

Your mouth opened for words to come out but nothing ever left your lips.

“Do you want to know the real reason why Katy and I were fighting?”

You’re still speechless, scared of the answer, even though you have an idea of what he'll say.

“I’ve always liked you, (y/n).” His shoulders rise in a deep breath. “I guess, I don’t know, I thought if I started seeing someone else it would it easier but, not being with you this past year has been hell and I know I haven’t made it any easier with being with Katy but—”

Your lips crash on his, your arms wrapping his neck, your fingers immediately tangling in his brown locks.

He stumbles back in shock but grabs at your hips, bringing you closer to his chest.

His pink lips press against yours, the corners slowly turning up into a smile, breaking your kiss.

“Merry fucking Christmas to me.”

•••

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pastelwitchling · 4 years ago

Text

Journey to the Past

read on ao3

This was meant to be part of my one-shot collection, it turned out to be too long, and now it’s a separate fic. If you enjoy reading even a little bit, please comment and share/reblog, it always makes the world of a difference ❤

Michael woke to find he’d fallen asleep at Alex’s bedside. Before anything, he sat up, checked to see if Alex’s eyes hadn’t fluttered, if he wasn’t finally waking from his coma, but his hand remained perfectly still in Michael’s, the heart monitor echoed steadily into the otherwise empty room and echoing off Max’s bedroom walls.

They would’ve taken him to the hospital, but since the attack that did this to him had been by his father’s rogue Project Shepherd agents, they couldn’t risk leaving him in a room that any enemy could access. At least here, Isobel and Michael could set up forcefields around the grounds. At least here, Max could strike anybody that came too close with lightning and they could blame it on the weather. At least here, Michael could cling to Alex and no one would bother him about it.

Michael wasn’t Alex’s boyfriend, he knew. Alex’s actual boyfriend – or his ex, that is, as of two weeks ago – was back in New York, unaware that the man he’d fallen so deeply and treacherously in love with had fallen victim to his father’s pissed off and ridiculously loyal minions.

Michael followed the bruises on Alex’s jaw and cheeks with his eyes, the cut on his lower lip, visible under the thick respirator. There was a stitched up gash in his forehead, and his knuckles on his right hand were scraped and bloody from the fight he’d given the attackers. He’d fended most of them off, before Michael had arrived to blow the rest of them into the walls and knock them out, but not before one of them had managed a stray shot in and got Alex in the stomach.

Max had done his best to heal him, but the bullets had been laced with yellow pollen. Jesse Manes’ last attempt to kill his youngest son, apparently, had followed him out the grave.

Michael shut his eyes against the thought, and instinctively gripped Alex’s hand tighter. He didn’t want to think about Project Shepherd and what they’d intended. They’d failed, and that was all that mattered. His grip turned painful on Alex’s hand. They’d failed.

A knock came at the door, but Michael did not look away from Alex’s face. He heard Max’s voice from the end of the room ask, “How’re you holding up?”

“Why isn’t he awake yet?” Michael demanded. “You said he’d be awake by now.”

“No,” Max sighed, and closed the door behind him. “I said Kyle hoped he’d be awake by now.”

“It’s been two days.”

“We’re doing everything we can –”

“Well, it’s not enough!” Michael snapped, and the room collapsed back into silence.

“He’ll wake up,” Max promised him. “He will. Just give him some time.”

“I need him,” Michael whispered.

“I know –”

“No,” he growled. “I need him.” He rubbed his face roughly with one hand. “Where’s Is?”

“Outside,” he said. “Why?” When Michael didn’t answer, Max’s shoulders slumped and his frown deepened. “Michael, no.”

“I know we said there were risks –”

“Risks?” he scoffed. “I already told you it’s too dangerous to go digging through Alex’s head! Isobel told you it’s dangerous!”

Michael stood. “Valenti said his brain waves are normal, he’s just asleep. If I can find the part of him that doesn’t want to wake up, then – then I get him back.”

“Or you guys screw something up,” Max argued, “and change something that can’t be changed back.”

Michael clenched his jaw. “He won’t wake up, not like this, and I can’t just sit here and wait.”

“Michael,” Max tried, purposely calming his voice in that way when he knew Michael was seconds away from blowing up and wanted to ease him back down. “Listen to me. I know you’re worried about him, but if you go into his mind, you could make things worse.”

Michael swallowed. Max was right, he knew Max was right. But he remembered Kyle’s voice when he’d hoped Alex would wake up soon. He had been too quiet, his eyes downcast like he was praying and didn’t want the others to know it was that bad.

He had no idea that when it came to Alex, Michael paid attention. Only when it came to Alex.

“If I do nothing,” he said, “Alex stays asleep.” His fingers curled to fists at his sides at the thought. He looked back at Alex, the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed softly. His unmoving fingers and closed eyes.

Michael sniffed, and decided, “If Alex doesn’t wake up by tomorrow morning, I’m going in to wake him up myself.”

They waited until the next morning, then noon. Michael had been ready to start at dawn, but Kyle had seemed anxious, and Max argued for “Just a couple more hours, Michael, he’s the doctor here!”

Michael had argued that Alex didn’t need a human doctor, and Kyle had argued that Alex was human, so who else was going to treat him?

Michael forgot that sometimes; that Alex wasn’t actually an alien like him, that he didn’t have any superpowers like the others did. He’d just always seemed so strong and intelligent that it slipped Michael’s mind. But Alex was human, and more fragile than Michael allowed himself to believe. He’d been too careless, too willing to ask for Alex’s help fixing this or fixing that without ever considering what he might’ve been doing to him. What it might cost.

Maybe that was why Michael was so eager to go into Alex’s mind already and wake him up. It was time for him to save Alex for a change.

“Just for the record,” Isobel said, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“You deal with brains all the time,” Michael argued.

“Not like Kyle,” she insisted. “And not memories. It’s like . . . time travelling! If you touch something in the past, you could change the future forever!” She swallowed. “And Alex is . . . he’s too important.”

She didn’t need to say the words for Michael to know what she was thinking. He’s too important to you, she seemed to be telling Michael. If I hurt him, it’ll break you, and I could never forgive myself for that.

Michael took her hand. “You’re gonna do great,” he said resolutely. “If anyone can do this, you can.”

Her brows pinched, unconvinced, but Michael didn’t have any more time for doubt or hesitation. Alex hadn’t woken up in too long, and his nerves were fraying with every passing second.

“Do it,” he said.

Isobel glanced hesitantly at Kyle. Kyle looked to Alex, as if weighing the damage that they could do, but even he must’ve known that Alex being asleep for this long was abnormal, because he looked to Isobel and nodded, clearly unhappy about it.

“Be careful,” Max warned. “For your sakes, and his.”

Isobel’s hand on Michael’s tightened, and she shut her eyes. Michael kept his gaze on Alex for as long as he could. Then he felt a sudden chill shoot throughout his entire body from his hand, and he inhaled sharply. One second he was looking at Alex’s sleeping figure, and the next, the world around him turned to smoke, and he found himself standing in the desert on a bright, sunny day.

He was still holding Isobel’s hand, but nothing looked familiar. There was just desert and gray-steel buildings built high with tall glass windows, clustered like boulders in the sea.

In the distance, he could see uniformed soldiers, marching in formation. Men and women training, sergeants barking orders, laughter from friends somewhere hidden. Where were they?

“What the hell?” he muttered, looking around. He didn’t recognize the area at all.

Isobel shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Where’s Alex?”

Michael turned and found they were inches from a doorway that opened to a large, steel room. There was a raised platform at the very opposite end, and several soldiers fighting, sparring, exercising – but Michael couldn’t see any of them.

Isobel gasped. “Michael,” she pointed. “Isn’t that Alex?”

Michael had already spotted him. He was on the platform, fighting another young man. But even before Isobel and Michael approached him, Michael knew this was a much younger Alex. He looked barely eighteen, his hair having lost its spike and was cut short, he was throwing punches and kicks in a way that seemed very unnatural for the man who hardly had to raise a finger to induce fear. And he was losing. Badly.

“I don’t think anybody can see us,” Isobel murmured, looking around at the other soldiers as they passed. “Or hear us.”

Michael’s eyes were on Alex. His heart was hammering, beating painfully against his ribs with every beating Alex took, every time his body fell to the floor. His opponent delivered a roundhouse kick that had Alex on his face again, and Michael snapped. He held a hand up to blast the other fighter back, but his powers wouldn’t work.

“Are you crazy?!” Isobel hissed, slapping his arm. “You can’t change anything, remember?”

“Literally,” Michael spat, hoping Alex’s opponent could feel his glares. “My telekinesis isn’t working.”

Isobel looked around before her eyes focused on another soldier who was doing pushups. Her brows furrowed for barely half a second, then she winced and put a hand to her temple.

Michael tugged on her hand. “Are you okay?”

“It’s taking all of my power for us to just be here,” she sighed. “My other powers won’t work either.” She frowned. “What’s he doing?”

Michael followed her gaze, and saw that Alex, beaten and bloody, was slowly pushing himself to his feet with trembling arms.

“His face is covered in blood,” Isobel shook her head. “He needs to stay down!”

Michael guessed he shouldn’t have been surprised to see Alex so resolved to stay on his feet. His hair was plastered to his temples with blood and sweat, his breaths were quick and short, like his chest ached, but his shoulders were straight and his eyes were filled with a fiery anger. Alex was looking at his opponent like he was every other person who’d ever beat him down and ordered him to stay there. He was screaming, without any words at all, that he wouldn’t.

It didn’t seem to matter to the opponent as he threw hit after hit, hurting Alex again and again, making Michael flinch and burn with rage every time.

When the fight was over, the other soldiers jeering and eager to start their own training match next, Alex’s opponent crouched down beside him and whispered, loud enough for Michael and Isobel to hear, as though they were in Alex’s place themselves –

“Nobody cares who your daddy and brothers are, Manes,” the opponent sneered with disgust. “Your kind will never survive here.”

Michael clenched his jaw. He felt Alex’s anger, his frustration, his grief. He’d often wondered what happened to Alex after he’d enlisted, how a soldier trained and what that did to them, whether it was hurting Alex the same way.

No one offered Alex a hand, no one knew what to make of this lesser Manes. Michael wanted to kill them all for hurting him, for pushing him down. Alex, on the other hand, seemed to see things differently.

With all the charge of that emo kid from high school, Alex groaned and pushed himself to his feet. He spat the blood in his mouth out, and wiped his forearm against his nose. His eyes were dry, his expression unreadable, but that same anger stayed.

More than a few soldiers looked surprised and even impressed, but Alex, already walking away, didn’t notice.

The scene changed.

Before Michael could blink, they were outside again. A cursory look around told them they were behind the building this time, where rocks and stray blades of grass grew out. Alex was sitting against the wall, his knees pulled up to his chest. In the distance, soldiers marched on, but nobody seemed to see Alex as he cried.

He hadn’t wanted anyone to see him.

Michael glanced at Isobel, and saw her eyes were wide and sympathetic. Alex wiped the tears away faster than they could fall. He sniffled, and pulled a picture out of his pocket, hiding it between his eyes and knees, a secret for no one else.

“I’m sorry,” Alex sniffled again, and wiped his cheek on his shoulder. “I’m trying not to. I’m getting better at it. Not that I think you’d be disappointed that I cried, I just . . . don’t want to cry in front of anybody else. Never again.”

Michael and Isobel each went to a different side of Alex to see whose picture he was talking to, all the while Michael trying not to scrunch up with the uncomfortable thought that Alex had taken enough comfort in someone else that he would sneak a photo of them into base, even back then.

When he saw the picture, he froze. Isobel breathed, “Oh my god . . .,” and Michael had to kneel down next to Alex. It was a picture of them – him and Alex – similar to the picture he had in his airstream. Except this one was taken at a different angle, and they were smiling at each other, taken in the exact moment Alex had noticed Michael watching him play guitar, and the two had laughed, giddy at being so close together and knowing what they knew about their feelings for one another.

Michael tried to breathe, but a lump lodged itself in his throat. Alex had kept a picture of them with him when he’d first gone to the base, and he pulled it out whenever he needed strength and comfort. All this time, he’d thought Alex hadn’t thought twice about him . . .

“I’m scared, Guerin,” Alex confessed to the picture, his grip on the edges tightening. “I don’t – I don’t know what to do. I’m not strong enough to be here. I don’t want to be here.” His lower lip trembled. “But that’s why you started to pull away, right? I was too weak to protect you . . .”

“No,” Michael breathed, shaking his head. “No, please, don’t say that, please.”

“That’s why Alex enlisted?” Isobel said. “Because his dad hit you?”

“It was after Rosa,” Michael croaked, eyes on Alex. “Everything changed, and I . . . I could never tell him what happened. But he – he thought . . . I didn’t know he thought . . .”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Alex cried, hiding his face with one hand. “I’m trying not to cry, I swear I’m trying. I just miss you so much, Guerin. You’re the only person that’s ever felt like home to me, and now I’m here, and I’m more lost than ever.” He exhaled shakily. “All I wanted was a goodbye. I keep thinking about the way I left. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Isobel’s own eyes were glassy. “Michael?”

“I didn’t want to,” he whispered in response to her silent question. “I didn’t want to say goodbye. It felt like I would never see him again if I did.” He clenched his jaw. He tried to press his forehead to Alex’s temple, to inhale his scent, but he couldn’t feel Alex at all. He could only watch him suffer.

“The last thing I ever said to him before he left was –” he scowled at the bile in his throat “—that I’d be better off if he left. I was just angry, and – and hurt!” he tried. “I didn’t mean it!”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said firmly, pulling her eyes off Alex. “It’s in the past, Michael. That’s what all of this stuff is. Memories. You know Alex now, you know what he thinks of you. He loves you.”

Michael shook his head. “That’s not what hurts, Is.”

“Then what does?”

“It’s that he loved me this much even back then.”

“Private Manes,” a voice sounded, and Alex gasped just quickly enough for Michael to catch it before he was on his feet, straight as a board.

Michael looked up and found none other than Sergeant Ramos, Alex’s mysterious leader who’d come to Roswell a mere few weeks ago. The man Alex had looked up to and smiled around and trusted. The man who seemed more Alex’s father than Jesse Manes had ever been.

Sergeant Ramos, looking about twelve years younger, raised a brow at Alex’s right hand which was subtly pushing the photo back into its hiding place in his pocket.

He tilted his head at Alex. “You’re the new kid, right? Jesse’s youngest. Alec?”

“Alex Manes, sir,” Alex said loudly, coherently. Like a soldier.

“Alex,” he nodded. “You miss your friend, Alex?”

Alex faltered. “Sir?”

“Your friend,” he nudged his chin at Alex’s pocket. “In the picture.” His eyes were meaningful when he said, “You must’ve been very close.”

Alex swallowed. It was no use trying to hide the panic in his eyes. He’d just come back from his father’s house, he was too used to being afraid. He hadn’t spent a decade learning to hide that fear.

“Is he the reason you’re here?”

Alex raised his chin. “I’m here to be stronger, sir!”

Ramos smiled, like he knew something Alex didn’t. “You seemed plenty strong to me up on that platform, Private.”

Alex frowned. “I was . . . losing, sir.”

“No,” he shook his head. “No, you were getting back up. No matter what he hit you with.”

Alex clenched his jaw. “I don’t like bullies, sir.”

“Did a bully hurt your friend there?” he asked. “Is that why you’re here?”

Alex said nothing, and Michael could see the questions in the furrow of his brow. What would happen to him if a sergeant discovered he was gay? Would he report him to Jesse?

Ramos sighed and looked around. “If you don’t know why you’re here,” he said, “you won’t last long, I can guarantee you that. You know where you are?”

Alex blinked, confused. “The – the US Air Force Base?”

“Are you asking me?”

He straightened. “The US Air Force Base, sir!”

“You ever been in a plane?” he asked. “Ever seen what we see up there?”

Alex hesitated, then shook his head. He quickly caught himself and said, “No, sir!”

Ramos hummed, then patted Alex’s shoulder once, hard enough to make Alex stumble. “All right, follow me! I’m about to show you the few good things about being out in this godforsaken desert.”

Alex followed as he was supposed to, though doubt never left his face. He seemed convinced that there was nothing good about being out here.

Michael and Isobel exchanged a glance before they quickly followed. Michael stayed close to Alex and reached for his hand several times, until they passed right through each other and Alex hardly seemed aware of him.

They went into a hangar with several smaller planes inside, and Alex tensed just for a moment at the sight of them all before he realized Ramos was leading him to a little aircraft at the far right of the room.

“Stay with me, Guerin,” Alex suddenly whispered, his eyes wide and betraying some fear. Michael looked to him, surprised, but realized that Alex was just talking to himself. His hand covered his pocket where his picture of him and Michael was, and with a deep, shaking sigh, he followed Ramos to the plane.

When Alex got close enough, Ramos tossed him a helmet. “Hop in, kid!”

Alex swallowed. He looked like he wanted to stutter an excuse not to, but he gripped his pocket tightly and nodded once, putting on the helmet.

“Oh my god,” Isobel said with a smirk tugging at her lips as realization dawned. “You’re like his good luck charm.”

Michael swallowed, though he definitely didn’t want to smile. When did it stop? When did Alex realize that he wasn’t good luck at all? When had he stopped needing him?

Before Michael and Isobel could say anything else, they both ended up in the backseat of the little aircraft, Ramos and Alex in the front, the plane on a wide stretch of road. Michael didn’t know if this aircraft had initially fit two people in the back, but it was like the memory warped and changed for them to be able to follow.

“We’re tied to Alex,” Isobel told him. Despite the roar of the engine, they heard each other, and the other two passengers, perfectly. “We’ll keep getting tugged along with him.”

Alex gripped the edge of his seat tightly as the plane took off into the air. Michael could hear his gasp, his eyes wanting to close but unwilling to do it in front of his sergeant. They rose high to the clouds, Alex’s knuckles white. Michael wanted more than anything to reach for him, to hold and comfort him, but this Alex was on his own. He’d never had Michael there as Michael had had Max and Isobel. It was just him, alone, with nothing but a picture to comfort him.

“Better hold onto somethin’,” Ramos laughed and pulled up high above the clouds.

What they saw knocked the breath out of their lungs. High above a bed of white, the sun shined brightly, turning the sky around it to gold and pink and purple and blue. It looked like the color of their spaceship surrounding them.

The sunlight hit Alex’s wide eyes, and Michael watched him breathing quickly, emotions turning from fear to shock to grief to wonder to amazement to grief and shock again. He could’ve done anything in that moment. He could’ve cried, could’ve screamed. Instead he smiled, a surprised burst of laughter escaping his lips.

He held up his hands and yelled, “WOOOOOOO!” and Ramous laughed harder. Isobel couldn’t help but laugh along, and Michael couldn’t look away from Alex. The bright sunlight had turned his tear-filled eyes to crystal green, and if Ramos noticed his crying, he didn’t say anything. Alex just laughed and ran his hands through his hair, marveling at the sight before him, as if he’d never expected that such a beautiful treasure could be right over his head this whole time.

After they’d come back down, Ramos handed Alex his half of a ham and cheese sandwich. “Every year,” he told him, “I look at new recruits, try to decide if there are any worth keeping an eye out for. This year, that’s you.”

Alex blinked. “Why me?”

“Because a soldier who can start a battle is a dime a dozen,” he said simply. “I need the kind of person who can win them. I think I can make you captain in record’s time.” He raised a brow, and finished his sandwich in one bite. “Would that be something you would want?”

Alex’s eyes widened. “That would outrank my dad – er – Sergeant Manes.”

“Yes,” Sergeant Ramos said slowly, as though he’d just figured out the bully’s name. “It would. He would have to answer to you.”

Alex’s cheeks were red, but his expression fierce and hopeful. “You can really make me captain, sir?”

“If it’s what you want,” he said. “If it’s the kind of person you want to be. But you ‘aint gonna get it getting beaten down the way you do.”

“I’m – I’m trying –”

“Trying is for excuses,” he said. “‘Round here, you do. If you want to outrank your old man, there’s only one way to do it, Manes. I can train you, but the work’s gotta come from you. What do you think?” He tilted his head. “How far are you willing to go to be the stronger one?”

The look on Alex’s face said it all. He would become whatever he had to, do whatever needed doing. He had enemies, and he wanted them to burn.

The picture changed. It was like walking through a film, memories too blurred and passing now for Michael and Isobel to cling to.

“What’s going on?” Michael asked Isobel, and she shook her head.

“Alex doesn’t clearly remember any of this stuff,” she said, “so we can’t see it any better than he can.”

They saw Alex get older, training harder, running faster, shooting better than anybody else around him. They saw him rise in ranks quickly, uniformed men pinning medals to his chest, congratulating him. Alex laughing with a team of his own, men with muscles larger than Michael’s head, following him like he was their hero.

The memory then stopped, and Michael and Isobel found themselves in a hospital hallway.

Isobel shivered and clung to Michael’s arm. “What is this?” she asked. “Where are we?”

Michael looked around, and pointed at a familiar man pacing along the wall, his thumb pressed to his lower lip.

“Gregory?” Isobel blinked. “What’s he doing here?”

A doctor stepped out, and Gregory was on him in an instant. “How is he?” he demanded at once.

The doctor sighed. It sounded sad. Gregory’s face fell, anguish overtaking his expression. “We did all we could,” he said, “but we couldn’t save the leg.”

Isobel gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “No,” she breathed. “I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to see this.”

Michael couldn’t hear anything else she said. He was watching Alex who was sitting up in bed, staring numbly at the ceiling. Michael went inside and stood at Alex’s bedside. He did not look at the sheets and what they revealed.

“Private,” he whispered, leaning in as close as he could without touching Alex. “Can you hear me?”

Alex said nothing. He didn’t look down or move. The circles around his eyes were dark. He slowly reached over to the tray beside his bed where a few of his belongings sat in an opened plastic bag, and took something out. It was a picture, his picture of him and Michael, tattered around the edges and stained with specs of blood on the back. He hugged it against his chest as a tear wordlessly rolled down his cheek, though he remained expressionless.

“Alex,” Gregory came in. He looked over Alex’s missing right leg, and swallowed thickly. “Hey,” he brushed his hair back from his face. Alex was either half-asleep or still filled with anesthetic. “Hey, can you hear me?”

Michael knew Alex could, that he remembered this moment perfectly, or he and Isobel would never have been able to see it.

Alex’s lips tugged up in half a sad smile, his brows furrowed as another tear fell down the bridge of his nose. “He’ll think I’m broken now. He’s so beautiful, he’d . . . he’d never love me like this.”

Michael stepped back, feeling like he’d been shot. Alex had kept the picture. Alex had thought Michael wouldn’t love him without his leg. Even now, after all these years, he’d kept the photo of them together. Even now, Michael was still his comfort.

The scene changed.

“I’m getting dizzy,” Isobel groaned. “Where are we now? It looks like Alex’s house, doesn’t it?”

It did. It was night, and they were right in Alex’s driveway, the trees lit with fairy lights, and there sat Michael, or a previous version of Michael, on the bed of his truck.

Michael’s heart fell into his stomach. “No,” he breathed. He remembered this.

“Whoa,” Isobel looked between Michael and Memory Michael. “It’s like Inception.”

“No, please, no,” Michael whispered as Alex pulled up. He stepped out and saw Michael shaking his head.

“What?” he asked in that cute way Michael had never admitted to.

“Pick another memory,” Michael told Isobel. “Any other memory!”

“I can’t control where we go!” Isobel said. “Why? What happens here, Michael?”

Michael pressed the bottoms of his palms into his eyes as Alex’s plea to help him find out more about his mom sounds in his ears. Then Michael’s own cruel words, “I like Maria, okay?”

Isobel’s hand tightened on Michael’s. “Oh.”

Michael was about to say something, though he didn’t know what, when the image before them blurred. It didn’t go away, it just faded to darkness.

“What’s happening?” Michael asked Isobel.

Isobel’s brows were furrowed. “It’s Alex,” she said. “He – he stopped paying attention.”

Michael swallowed thickly as the colors ran around him. Then he and Isobel were in Alex’s living room as Alex came in. It was right after Michael had left his house.

Alex sat down on the couch, staring off into the distance. He pulled off his cap, and his arm fell limp to his side. Slowly, Alex let his head fall back against the wall, and he stared at the ceiling, the same numb expression on his face as when he’d woken up to losing his leg. Any pretense of being fine or indifferent to Michael’s confession was gone.

Alex sniffled, then straightened. His eyes were dry. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out that same picture of him and Michael. He stared at it for a long time, but he didn’t say anything.

“He kept it,” Isobel breathed. “All this time, he’s loved you so much.”

“I didn’t –” Michael croaked, shaking his head. “I didn’t know.”

He’d thought Alex didn’t care who he was with. Then he thought to the way Alex’s eyes had fallen time and time again; in his driveway, his backyard, outside Michael’s airstream over and over and over again. Never surprised, just afraid that his suspicions had been right. That he was too broken for Michael to love anymore.

Alex lied down with a deep sigh that sounded frighteningly like resignation, his hand with the picture hanging off the couch. Slowly, his jaw clenched, Alex let the picture flutter out of his fingers and to the floor. He turned over to his other side and closed his eyes. He didn’t pick the picture up again.

“Alex . . .” Michael whispered, but before he could try reaching for Alex, the picture changed again, and he and Isobel were standing next to Alex in front of a short building. Kids played outside and elders swept their front porch.

Isobel leaned her weight against Michael. He put an arm around her waist. “Whoa, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, “yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. I don’t think I can keep this up much longer, Michael. We have to find the broken part here, fast.”

Michael looked Alex over. “I think we’re getting there. Wasn’t this what he was wearing the day he was ambushed?”

Isobel straightened, eyes narrowed. She gasped. “Kyle told me Alex had gone to visit his mom that morning! He called on his way to the bunker, and –”

“That’s where they got him,” Michael growled, his hands turned to fists at the thought. “We’re close.”

As if hearing the urgency in their voices, a woman opened the door to greet Alex. She had Alex’s dark eyes, dark hair, and kind smile.

“My baby,” Alex’s mother pulled him in for a hug. Alex hugged her back just as tightly.

“Hey, mom,” he said. He sounded exhausted.

His mother quickly noticed and her smile faltered. She cupped his cheek. “Okay, baby, come in. Come on. I’ll make you some tea.”

That was how they found themselves minutes later, seated in a small but comfy living room with plush floral couches, Michael and Isobel on each side of Alex as he and his mother nursed hot cups of tea.

“What’s going on?” Alex’s mother said. “Why do you look like that?”

Alex scoffed halfheartedly, “Are you saying I look bad?”

She brushed his hair back from his eyes. “My son is the handsomest in the world.” She brought her hand to his chin and lifted his head. “So why is he so upset?”

“I’m not upset, mom,” he said, smiling weakly. “I’m just . . . so tired.” His smile fell away and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a sip of his tea and set the mug down. He rubbed his hands together. “When you called last night, I told you everything was fine. I lied, mom.”

She nodded, like this didn’t surprise her in the slightest. “I know.” She tilted her head, and softly asked, “Is it your breakup? I thought you were okay with that.”

“I was,” Alex shook his head, eyes shut. “I – I am, but I . . .” He sighed and pulled something out of his pocket. He huffed a miserable chuckle. “I tried to burn it. I couldn’t.”

She took the picture from him, and Isobel gasped softly. It was the same one Alex had had of him and Michael for all of these years. He’d never gotten rid of it. Michael had never stopped being a comfort to him. Until, apparently, now.

Realization dawned on Alex’s mother’s face. “This boy. What was his name again?”

Alex rubbed his face. “It doesn’t matter. None of this matters anymore. Forrest and I broke up, and he still won’t tell me anything.”

She frowned. “I thought you said you loved each other?”

Alex nodded. “I used to believe that.” He sighed shakily. “Not anymore.” He chuckled sadly, and covered his face with his hands. “I’m so tired, mom. I’m so tired of – of excuses and being afraid and – and being brave just to find out that it makes no difference. It’s not enough. I’m not enough.”

“Alex,” Alex’s mother looked horrified at her son’s words. “Did he tell you that?”

“He didn’t have to,” Alex confessed in a whisper. “He showed me. He told Maria he loved her.”

Isobel’s eyes were wide. “Michael, you what?” she demanded. “Why would you lie like that?”

“I was scared,” he said, his eyes on Alex. “I wanted to hold onto something easy.”

But he didn’t know this was what he’d been doing to Alex. That he was hurting him this badly, all to date someone he’d never actually wanted to date. Michael looked at the dark circles around Alex’s eyes, his hollow cheeks, his tousled hair, and wondered how long it had been since Alex had eaten or slept.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Alex said. “I’d always hoped that . . . that we’d end up together. But it’s not something he wants anymore. If he ever wanted it at all.” His eyes shut tight. “I can’t keep clinging to bread crumbs, mom, I don’t want to.”

His mom looked concerned, but she took Alex’s hands in both of hers and said steadily, “Alex, what’re you trying to say? You can tell me.”

Alex exhaled shakily, and lifted his gaze to his mother’s. “Mom, I’ve thought about this a lot. I’ve thought about it since he and Maria first started . . .” he clenched his jaw and looked away, like just the thought of Michael and Maria together pained him. Finally, he said, “I’m leaving Roswell.”

“No,” Michael breathed.

“And I’m not coming back this time.”

“NO!” Michael stood. “Alex, you can’t leave!”

“Michael,” Isobel tried. “He can’t hear you.”

“Alex can’t leave me,” he shook his head. “He can’t.”

“I can’t see him anymore,” Alex said. “I can’t pretend he still loves me. It hurts too much.”

Despite Isobel’s protests, Michael leaned over Alex and grabbed his arms. He kept going through him.

“Alex, look at me!” he demanded. “I’m right here, look at me!”

Alex flinched just as Michael’s hands collided with his arms, grabbing onto him. He could feel Alex, and Alex could feel him.

Alex looked startled, his mother’s voice was gone. Everyone’s voices were gone but Michael’s, Isobel’s, and Alex’s. The world around them was turning to black as Alex searched the air in front of him, as if looking for the source of the sound.

“He can hear me,” Michael muttered, eyes wide. “He can – he can hear me!”

Alex’s eyes fell onto Michael’s, and his brows furrowed. “Guerin?”

“This is it,” Isobel stood. “This is the faulty memory! The part where Alex’s brain is screwed up and is keeping him asleep!”

“Isobel?” Alex blinked. He tried to stand with Michael clinging to him. Michael was afraid that if he let go of this memory, Alex would disappear from him for good. “What’re you guys doing here, what is all this?”

They were standing in darkness. Nothingness upon nothingness.

“You were attacked,” Isobel told him, “by Project Shepherd agents.”

“You’ve been in a coma for three days,” Michael said. “We couldn’t get you to wake up, we had to come into your mind, try to wake you from here.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Alex shook his head. “Attacked? Coma? None of this makes any sense!”

“Remember!” Michael demanded. “Remember! This is just a memory, the real you knows what happened! Remember, Alex!”

Alex looked shocked, doubtful, disbelieving. Then something in his expression slotted together. “I was – I was at the bunker . . . the door was open . . . it all happened so fast.” He blinked, and gasped. “A gunshot. Someone – someone shot me.” He frantically patted down his stomach, looking for the wound, but he wouldn’t find it in a memory. He looked back to Isobel, then Michael. “You’re telling the truth.”

“You have to fight it, Alex,” Isobel urged. She leaned forward on her knees and huffed, like just breathing was getting tiresome for her. “You have to want to wake up.”

“Want to wake up?”

“Yeah,” Michael cupped his jaw. “Come on, baby. Wake up for me,” he breathed. “I miss you, please wake up for me.”

Alex searched his face, then said, “No.”

Michael faltered. “N-No?”

“No,” Alex tried pulling his arms out of Michael’s grasp, but Michael held on. “Guerin, I don’t want to.”

“What do you mean you don’t want to? Alex, this is your life we’re talking about –”

“My life?” he laughed. It sounded so sad. “What life, Guerin? The one where the man I love won’t say two nice words to me? The one where my friends don’t think twice about what their decisions might do to me? Where my own brother tried to kill me because I got in his way?”

Alex shook his head. “No, Guerin. No. I’ve been tired for a long time, and I want to rest now.”

Michael gripped his arms harder. “You think I don’t know the real you?” he demanded. “You think I don’t know that you’ve had hope for us even when I didn’t? You think I don’t know that no matter what you say, you’ll believe in us whether you want to or not? We’re cosmic, Alex, this won’t kill us, and you know it won’t. If you don’t wake up, I’ll just come after you again, you know I will.”

Isobel stared, shocked. “Michael . . .”

His grip on Alex turned painfully tight. “I’ve never trusted anything, Alex. I’m not like you, I can’t see the good even when everything just feels bad. But I trust you. If you don’t wake up, I’ll die.” He shrugged, a sad smile tugging at his lips as a tear rolled down his cheek. “And you won’t let me. I believe that.”

His grip loosened.

“What’re you doing?” Alex said, though he seemed to already know the answer.

“I’m trusting you to come back to me,” Michael said, his whole body trembling. “Because you always do.”

“Michael,” Isobel warned, “if you let him go now, we might lose him for good.”

Michael smirked, and a tear fell down Alex’s face. “I’m not letting you go,” Michael told Alex. “I can’t.”

“Guerin,” Alex tried, but Michael was already straightening, bracing himself.

“You’ll come back,” he said, sure of this more than anything else.

Without another word, he let go of Alex, and a sudden wind hit his face. Then he blinked, and he was back in Max’s bedroom. He and Isobel both broke apart and fell to the ground.

“Oh my god,” Kyle gasped somewhere in the distance and helped Isobel up while Max came to Michael’s side.

“You guys have been frozen for hours!” he said, pulling Michael to his feet. “What happened?”

“Michael had Alex,” Isobel said, and looked to her brother. “Why?” she demanded. “Michael, after what he told us –”

“What?” Kyle said, looking between them. “Told you what?”

Michael lumbered out of Max’s hold and took his place at Alex’s bedside again, taking his hand in his. “Come on, Alex,” he begged in a whisper. “Come on. Come back to me.”

“He said . . . he said . . .”

“It doesn’t matter!” Michael snapped, and Isobel fell silent. “He’ll wake up. He will. Come on, baby,” he murmured into Alex’s hand. “Come on.”

The minutes ticked by in silence, like everyone was holding their breath, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did.

“Michael,” Isobel said quietly. “He’s not going to wake up.”

“Yes, he will,” Michael said at once, his grip on Alex’s hand bruising. “He will.”

“Just give him a minute,” he heard Kyle say. He must’ve been clinging to that hope just as desperately as Michael was.

“Come on,” he pleaded. “Come on, Alex. Stay with me.”

A moment. Two. Michael’s eyes burned, and his hands started to tremble. Then he felt it; he felt Alex’s fingers move in his.

He gasped, and waited. Alex moved again.

Kyle pointed at one of the monitors. “Brain activity’s increasing!” he all but yelled. “Alex?”

They looked to Alex, waiting, waiting, waiting. Then Alex’s eyes fluttered open, and a sob escaped Michael’s lips before he pressed them to Alex’s fingers, kissing each one. Kyle gently pulled off the respirator, and he and Michael both helped a confused Alex sit up.

Alex’s brows were furrowed as he took in the room. When he spoke, his voice was dry and hoarse. “I had the weirdest dream.”

Isobel collapsed into tearful giggles, and Max, relieved, patted Alex’s shoulder twice. Kyle ruffled his hair, and Michael moved to sit next to him, hugging him tightly and keeping him close.

“Don’t ever do that to us again, Manes,” Kyle warned him with a trembling smile.

“Do what?” Alex asked. “I don’t remember anything – ow!” He lifted up his short sleeve to reveal red nail marks. Michael’s nail marks from when he’d been gripping him a little too tightly, terrified of losing him.

Alex met Michael’s gaze with furrowed brows, realization quickly dawning. Michael pressed their foreheads together and took a second to breathe Alex in before he closed the distance between them, taking Alex’s lips in his own.

He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and then Alex broke away, panting, though they kept their foreheads together.

“Get off him,” Kyle slapped Michael’s shoulder. “He still needs a minute to breathe.”

“No,” Michael said simply, resting his head on Alex’s shoulder and nuzzling his neck, feeling as much of him as he could.

“Oh!” Isobel started. “Alex, what ever happened to that photograph?”

Michael tensed.

“What photograph?” Max asked.

“Alex,” she said, “had this picture of him and Michael when they were seventeen. We saw it in all of his memories.”

“Isobel,” Michael warned through grit teeth. He expected the same out of Alex, to see him embarrassed or shy, but Alex simply blinked like he’d forgotten about the picture.

“That?” he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the small photograph.

Michael hugged his waist with one hand and took the photo with the other. “I have one just like this.”

Alex laughed. “Yeah?”

“I’ll show it to you,” he promised into his shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Alex sighed. “I think it might be time for a new one.” He smiled at Michael like he adored him. No, more than adored him. The thought made Michael’s heart flutter and made him cling tighter.

Michael kissed Alex’s neck, then his shoulder. “Good. ‘Cause I have a few ideas.”

“Um,” Isobel said testily as Max and Kyle looked away with red faces. “Y’all know we’re still here, right?”

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