#messed up. (i need to side note for everyone that angel of small death & the codeine scene came up on shuffle mid-writing this &. thoughts)

[mins-fins]

ANGEL EYES. — [L.MH] [PREVIEW]

❝ sometimes, it feels as if mark lee is your guardian angel ❞

SYNOPSIS: innocent cherub eyes, gently soft hands, a heart of gold, mark lee is the golden boy whose experienced as much love as he gives back. his grades are high, his smile is wide, and his laughter is sweet. the only reason mark lee gets embroiled in a world of trouble is because of his pairing with the 'messed up foster kid' in a school project. it would be stupid to ever let himself get involved, but mark does anyway.

PAIRING: mark lee x male!reader

GENRE: mid–2000s au, high school au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, humor(?), slow burn, one sided pining to mutual pining, sadness as a romantic segway, relationship study, reader is a foster kid, mark pov, happy ending.. (i suppose)

WARNINGS: swearing, explicit language, violence, drug abuse, child abuse & neglect, family issues, mentions of death, smoking, homophobia, reader simply has the worst time and mark sobs about his circumstances, an awful amount of love that isn't realized to be love

WORD COUNT: 2.7k (preview) | ..pending (full fic)

NOTES: hello everyone, this is my baby, the birth was very special, i love my baby so much 💗 listen! i started this in early august and i am STILL going, this going to be LONG.. longest mins-fins work ever long 😞 im estimating 30–40k, the power of mark lee yall 😇 it's going to go on forever, and it's definitely going to be sad in some ways, i am currently about to hit 20k words.. sooooiooooo 😊😊 i hope you like this preview bc i really dk when the real thing is coming out 😭😭 im in so much pain rn, let me nap now 😴

BEFORE IT WAS IN THE CRISP AUTUMN ATMOSPHERE, mark lee had met you at the local police station. it was only a few months prior, august of 2004 brought the prospect of donghyuck doing everything to try and get arrested, prospects that mark could only respond with under the breath swears. he loves donghyuck, he really does, but driving shouldn't have been his first choice. in all of the friendships mark has had with other people in his life, donghyuck has always brought a wave of chaos along with him, the exact opposite of who mark's mom would advise him to stay away from, but she'd always had a soft spot for him, mark can't exactly blame her.

fresh off turning seventeen and utterly clueless as to what the future would bring, mark only found himself at the police station for one reason. donghyuck had driven without a license. yep, sixteen years old and he assumed doing an illegal u-turn was the way to end his summer.

mark has always been a stand up kid. the kind who handed out his mom's cookies to the neighbors. the kind who called for stray cats in alleyways. the kind who was simply an innocent bystander to all the bullshit his friends would pull.

so when donghyuck called him from a jail phone, voice heightened in indignation as he begged for mark to come make a case for him, the older really had no choice but to do so. mark had never been to a police station before, afraid of catching sight of real criminals in the flesh by just walking past the building. he had heard too many scary stories, had terrible ideas of human beings planted in his head.

and even as a seventeen year old who had experienced life enough that such things shouldn't have terrified him anymore, there was still a small pit in his stomach as he rounded the corner in direction of the building.

"and how exactly am i supposed to bail you out?" an eyebrow raise accompanied mark's inquiry, and donghyuck scoffed as he shook his cuffed hands.

"you don't have to bail me out, my dad knows the sheriff, i'm just getting off with a warning" he whispered, sweat on his brow as he shared that familiar 'no shit' look with mark (an ironic expression really, he's the only one between the two of them that's been in cuffs).

mark snickered. "you talk so much when you're the one handcuffed".

"watch your mouth, you need me".

just as donghyuck was about to let out a swear in addition to his snappy response, said sheriff walked into the room, tight lipped smile painting his face. "don't try that again donghyuck, or next time you'll end up in a cell".

in a instant, donghyuck's blood ran cold, mark almost laughed at the sight, but he remained still, watching. the older man glanced up, catching mark's anxiety ridden eyes. "and you are?"

"this is mark, my best friend" donghyuck was quick to quip, a hand placed onto his shoulder.

mark's stomach dropped to his feet, it isn't as if he did anything wrong, it was simply on par for him to be severely anxious around law enforcement in general, he was just afraid he'd somehow get arrested for nothing at all.

"ohhh i remember you, i used to assume you two were brothers".

mark let out a breathy (and clearly faked) chuckle, trying to bury his anxiety. he could never explain it, even if you gave him all the words to, it's not like he's a bad kid, he just finds himself tensing often. "no, just friends.."

"it's good to have someone so close as support" he narrowed his eyes at donghyuck, who stifled his scoff at the clear sarcasm lacing his tone. he then scrunched his nose, watching as donghyuck placed a performative smile on his lips. "now you, sir, we need to have a talk".

donghyuck frowned, whining out complaints as he's dragged away by the sheriff. "can you wait, mark?"

mark blinked, shoving his hands into his pant pockets. he nodded, out of words. the two bantered back and forth like friends, something mark could only stare idly at. he made his way over to the seats beside the door, where, nestled in the corner of one of them, was you.

you were scribbling something into your notebook, unaware of the eyes on you. mark sat two chairs away from you, tapping his feet onto the floor as he heard the faint sounds of scoldings. safe driving, don't get into a car without a license, your future won't be any better if you continue this shit.

swearing at a child, mark found that rich. he glances beside him again, now watching you intently. you were engrossed in the manner your pen scratched against your paper, mark had figured out through endless staring that you hadn't been writing, but drawing.

you avoided his eyes for a while, ignorant to the eyes gazing you up and down. you then glanced in mark's direction, almost startling him out of his seat with the sudden stare. you blinked, puzzled out of your mind. "is there something on my face?"

mark tensed in his seat, feeling his stomach swirl, was he staring so much that you felt offended? he felt guilty immediately, his lips parting immediately and releasing a silent breath. "no.. no i'm sorry, i didn't mean to".

you shrugged your shoulders, one click to your pen. mark recognized you, but he simply couldn't conjure up an explanation as to why you were sitting in a police station at this time, drawing whatever into your notebook. "so why are you staring then?"

"i'm trying to figure out why you're here" mark muttered, fingers fiddling with his necklace as he tried to get his tone straight in fear of again offending you. "i'm sure you aren't committing crimes".

"i can say the same for you, mr golden boy".

mark's lips turned up slightly, his hands twitching from where they rested on his lips. "i got kicked out.. always come here to let dad and mom cool off for a few hours".

the words earned an eyebrow raise from mark, that was strange to hear, especially from another person in regards to their own parents. mark had never really experienced such a thing, the way you described it made his nose scrunch. "what?"

before you could respond to that one, a police officer entered the room, one you seemed to recognize by the way your eyes lit up. "come on l/n, time to go".

a frown settled onto your lips. "do i really have to go now? you know how my parents are.."

"i can't keep you here, it would technically be illegal".

"it's not like they'll care anyway.." you mumbled, slamming your notebook shut with yet another click to your pen. "just an hour longer, please?"

there was a sense of hope in your eyes, maybe he would actually take your words into account. mark simply stared, staggered by what he was witnessing. the officer watched the change of your expressions, your thumb playing at the button on your pen, continuously clicking over and over. as the clicks amplified, so did the sound of your labored breathing.

"you know i can't do that kid".

your frown deepened, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. worry, that's what mark remembered. your eyes widened, but not in the usual shock, simply in disappointment. you cursed under your breath, muttering something about your parents getting pissed at your reappearance. you stopped clicking your pen, letting the chagrin settle onto you. "yeah.."

you sucked your teeth, imitating the look of a sulky child. mark was consumed by his silence, completely confused by the situation. he didn't give a comment, simply watched the whole entire thing happen. "i'll give you a few minutes, don't worry".

you didn't respond to that one, your eyes following the police officer who strolled out the door towards his car. you bit into your lip again, hands grasping onto your notebook and thumb still pressing onto your pen. "what bullshit".

mark continued staring, his hands clutching at his thighs. you then glanced at him once more, causing for him to flinch back. you stayed silent, watching him as much as he did you a few minutes prior.

"are you alright?" he muttered, leaving his voice at a low volume. he didn't want to raise it, he wanted to keep it at a volume that kept you comfortable.

you snickered, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "fine, going home is just my worst nightmare".

mark's fingers found themselves sliding across his legs, teeth sliding against each other in back and forth motions. he blinked his big brown eyes, staring with an assured gaze he hoped would somehow make it's way to you. "i'm sorry".

he whispered those two words as if he was in physical pain, eyes watering for an inexplainable moment. he couldn't help it, and he had no idea why he couldn't help it. it was embarrassing how much he felt at the moment.

you stared back, lips pursuing. your expressions did at least seventy transformations, as if you were in disbelief at someone having empathy for you. you seemed distraught, why is he tearing up? that's so strange.

you chuckled, hoping it would quell his worries. "it's okay, not like it's your fault".

"still, you shouldn't have to feel that way about going home.. your parents shouldn't be kicking you out".

you grimaced, put off by the words. it isn't as if they were terrible, you just seemed.. astonished. why did he care? it was simply weird to you.

"well thank you for your concern but i'll be fine".

mark blinked away the tears threatening to escape his eyes, god what was wrong with him? why did he even tear up at that? he totally weirded you out.

"yeah um.. i'm sorry" mark bit into his inner cheek, letting out a heavy sigh. "just have a good day" a theatric smile placed itself on his lips, he was definitely trying to convince himself that it wasn't that bad of a situation.

you stared longer, seemingly itching to say something. there were words resting on the tip of your tongue, mark could practically sense it. "yeah, you too".

and when you stood up to walk out of the door, donghyuck coincidentally escaped the clutches of the sheriff, stumbling out of his office with his arms crossed over his chest. the door closed behind you, and mark watched the entire time.

"what took you so long?" mark uttered, eyes casting donghyuck's way.

the younger huffed in his usual donghyuck manner, hands on his hips. "he was giving me a big talk about safe driving" he placed heavy air quotes around the last two words, lips curled into a frown.

mark licked his teeth, his thoughts retracing back to you. "do you know him..?"

donghyuck blinked, his mouth opening to ask about who until he saw the way mark motioned his head. "y/n? oh yeah, he's around here all the time, the officers basically take him in whenever.."

"why?"

his voice scratched like sandpaper, donghyuck wincing at the tone. he then shrugged his shoulders, his attitude puzzled. "something about his parents not really caring, it's pretty shitty".

mark's lips parted in a freezing motion, his stomach pain only worsening. "that's scary.. feeling safer at the police station than your own home".

"i don't know much about his situation, just know his parents have a terrible temper".

mark swallowed the lump in his throat, his head beginning to pound at the information given. he tried to distract himself by thinking about school coming up soon, but he was snapped back into reality by donghyuck.

"why are you even asking me about y/n?"

mark glanced up at his childhood friend, a small whisper in his mind telling him to lie. "just curious that's all".

the lie laid bitter on his tongue, but he didn't allow for donghyuck to dwell on it, rising from the chair he's practically glued himself to. "promise me you'll never illegally drive again, the officers here look like they wanna kill me".

donghyuck rolled his eyes, tease evident in his attitude. "okay markie, promise".

mark pushed his shoulder in retaliation.

that? that was two months ago.

before the crisp autumn weather drifted through the atmosphere, before the leaves began falling to decorate the ground in orange and brown hues, mark lee had met you at the local police station. your legs crossed, pen clicking, and nose buried into your notebook.

september came and went rather quickly, the scorching heat of the summer air transforming into the russet autumn scenery which drifts into october. the temperature steadily dropping, sweaters becoming more and more common in his closet, mark can't exactly focus in class during the first few months of school.

when mark hears his name fall from his teacher's lips in pair with yours, he snaps out of an episode of disassociation, blinking up. "what?"

his teacher deadpanned, readjusting her glasses. she doesn't even seem surprised by his lack of focus anymore, his exhaustion is constantly evident. "project partners mark, you'll be paired with y/n".

mark only parts his lips in response, the words rendering him speechless. he glances around the classroom as he listens to the older woman's voice blurs into the background, catching sight of you in the far back, again scribbling into your notebook, your manner reminiscent of how you acted the first time you two met.

he stares for a while before again looking forward, his mouth going dry as he tries again to focus, but of course, he can't. his mind stays focused on you throughout the whole class, even after the endless words he lets blur away.

you spin your pen between your fingers, it's the same pen you had that day, maybe you have some sort of attachment to it or something, maybe it's your favorite pen, maybe someone special gifted that pen to you.

maybe mark's letting it all get to his head, why is he even making assumptions when he hasn't walked up to you yet?

while everyone else rushes to leave the class, mark rises from his seat and again glances over at you, slinging his back over his shoulder.

you're riveted by what you're doing in your notebook, so absorbed that you barely hear the shuffling footsteps making their way around the many desks towards yours. your lips turn down as you smudge the ink on the page, a small suck of the teeth adding to your frustration.

"um.. hi" mark whispers, watching as you glance up and pause, one click to your pen. you don't respond immediately, studying mark for a while, and mark tenses up under your gaze, sucking a breath between his teeth.

"hi".

"we uh— were partners for the project".

your smile is neutral. "i know".

mark began biting the skin off his lips, hands gripping at his backpack. "i don't know where you want to start, uh.. maybe we could go to the library?"

he's just saying what he's hoping will work. he doesn't exactly know you yet, he assumes your one off interaction at the police station left a sour taste in your mouth.

but unbeknownst to mark's anxious inner voice, you smile, not exactly a neutral one this time, a much better smile ('better' in terms of expression, your lips stretch into an aspect of satisfaction).

"that'd be nice".

mark nods, almost too enthusiastically he thinks. how embarrassing. you let out a silent yawn, oblivious to the battle mark is having in his head. "tomorrow maybe we can start?"

your smile again becomes neutral, but at least mark doesn't think you want to kill him. "yeah, tomorrow is fine".

tomorrow. tomorrow is fine.

"okay, have a good day y/n".

mark rushes out of the classroom much too fast, he feels a little terrified of you. maybe you don't exactly want to kill him, maybe you just look at everyone else in that way, maybe it won't be that bad to be paired with you.

still, mark isn't sure why his mind tells him he should stay away from you.

[sunshine-for-serotonin]

Hello again! So obsessed with the new post I just need more. My request is a bit lewd, warning you;).

Could you maybe writing something where the reader has been very busy as of late. And everytime she and Erik get ;) busy she has to leave. Until Erik finally caves and begins begging for the reader to fuck him. And maybe possibly get that face sitting 🤭 and cowgirl, if you don't mind🙈. No rush, at all. Much love!

Ofc, my beloved mutual!! This can be read as an individual scenario, or a continuation of this one shot! That being said, Reader is modern, Erik and everyone else is not! Note: I tried a slight change in the way that Erik speaks to try and fit his character better! Please leave feedback or other ideas of what could change!

Erik didn’t know what to do with himself. Just mere minutes ago you had been kissing him and leaving marks all over his neck, teasing Erik to get him all worked up into a moaning and whimpering mess just for you. But just as soon as you had planted your lips on Erik’s collarbone, someone had come knocking on your chamber door to announce that you were needed on set.

“I’m sorry, my love,” you whispered pressing a chaste kiss to his lips that had his marred face trying to chase after yours for more. “But I have to go now.” And just like that, after giving him one more kiss, Erik watched with desperate, glossy eyes as you disappeared from sight.

Not even a few minutes later after being left alone with his thoughts, Erik’s entire being was consumed with rage. Not towards you, never towards you, but towards those complete and utter fools he called managers. ‘How dare those buffoons interrupt my time with my angel?! One would think they have a death-wish!’

Erik had to do something quick before he lost control of his temper and took it out on the management of his opera theatre. Turning to his side, Erik spotted a few bottles of perfume on your bedside dresser. Sitting up in your bed, Erik tentatively reached out and grasped one such delicate vial and uncapped the lid, inhaling deeply whilst allowing his eyes to flutter closed at the familiar and comforting aroma.

Already Erik could feel his anger begin to diminish slowly, but it wasn’t quite enough. Erik needed something to simulate you that he could hold close and love while you were away, and it just so happened one of his favorite nightgowns of yours was laying on a chair in the corner of your chamber while he was surrounded by your soft pillows. Quickly, Erik stalked over to your nightgown and snatched it up like he was afraid some invisible force would rip it from his grasp. Taking one of your pillows, he fitted it with the nightgown and laid it back on the bed before quickly undressing himself, laying down, and spritzing your perfume on the pillow so he may hold it tightly and pretend that you and he were resting peacefully and cuddling. It took about half an hour of Erik laying on your bed and taking in your scent greedily for him to calm down enough to think rationally. ‘Mon ange will be back with me soon, and she may do whatever she wants with me then.’ Just the mere thought of him being able to pleasure you made the scorned flesh of Erik’s face light up with a love-drunk smile, and just as he finished his thoughts, you walked through the entry way and leaned against a wall to admire the view.

“Well, well, what’s going here, Erik? Eager for me, aren’t we, darling?” You chuckled softly as you watched Erik move to stand and nod his head up and down rapidly. “I couldn’t have been gone for more than 45 minutes, love, but I suppose I’ve kept you waiting for long enough.” Making your way over to the lanky man, you allowed him to embrace you tightly and place his misshapen lips on yours in a desperate kiss. Pulling away from Erik just enough so that you can peer into his eyes, you allowed a small smirk to form on your mouth as you whispered softly, “Do you want to pick up where we left off?”

“Oui, oui, yes-please! Pleasepleaseplease!”

Erik hadn’t even realized how hard he was until he ducked down to kiss you again and accidentally ground his pelvis against you. Gently, you pushed Erik back onto the bed and sat on his lower abdomen. Leaning over him until your face was only centimeters from his, you gently cupped his cheeks and began to pepper kisses all over his disfigured flesh, relishing in the way Erik tried to push himself closer to you.

“Mon ange please! I need to touch you! Let me touch you, please!”

“Oh darli-”

*knock knock knock*

“(Y/n)! Meg needs your help with her stage makeup and Madame Giry needs help organizing the dancers, just for a little while of course!” Spoke the muffled voice through your door.

“Alright, merci beaucoup! I’ll be out in just a minute!”

With a sigh you moved to get off Erik, only to be halted in your movements by a firm grip on your waist. Looking down, you were met with teary eyes and trembling lips belonging to your darling, need for you painted across Erik’s face and body language.

“Please, don’t go mon ange.”

Hearing Erik’s frail plea for you to stay broke your heart, but you knew if you wanted to stay here you had to do your job.

“I’ll be back soon, mon amour-” you cut yourself off to kiss him deeply, an act that had Erik whining into your mouth. “-and while I’m gone, why don’t you think of a reward? You’ve been so good for me after all.”

“Anything I want? Do you swear to me it can be anything, mon ange?” Erik’s voice was still soft with desperation and love, but now there seemed to be some sort of hope underlying his watery tone.

“Of course Erik, now I’ll be back soon. I love you~”

“Je t’aime, mon ange! Please hurry back for me, I-I’m not sure how much longer I can go without you here with me…” Even with the promise of your return and a reward, Erik couldn’t help but let a few frustrated tears fall from his eyes as once again you vanished from sight.

An hour. You had been gone for an hour, and Erik swore he was going to lose his mind. Every little movement made his reddened cock throb with need for your touch and his body ache for your love.

“Mon ange…(Y/n), please…I need-I need….please, come back…”

Eriks body was shaking as the man sobbed into your nightgown, pleading that you would come back soon, fuck him senseless, and then hold him tightly as you both drifted off in to a peaceful, love filled slumber. Erik was trying to be good for you and wait patiently, but he wanted you with him now! He knew exactly what he wanted for his reward, and just the thought made his hips flex and stutter upwards, desperately trying to get friction from a you who wasn’t there.

“Eriiikk~ are you still here, darling?”

You were barely able to make your way back inside, slip your shoes off, and close the door fully before you were basically tackled into a tight embrace by an absolutely carnal and desperate Erik.

“Mon ange, I-I don’t think I could have waited much longer! I’ve been so, so good, I swear to you! Please, I need you…”

“Don’t worry darling, I’m here now~”

Erik couldn’t get down on his knees fast enough, desperately pawing at your skirts to try and get them off of you.

“Please, please, please, please, I’ve been so good! I’ve been so good for you! Please-”

“Calm down darling,” you smiled amusedly. “-Why don’t you tell me what you want for your reward?”

Gazing up at you, Erik began to open his mouth, but shut it just as quickly again as another knock was heard at your door.

“Mlle. (Y/n)! M. Firman wants your help organizing the props and costumes with Josephine!”

“Alright, I will be there shortly!”

You could feel Erik’s grip on you tighten to an almost painful degree, the fabric of your skirt almost completely engulfing him. The shaking of his shoulders and a miserable ‘non!’ Was all the warning you got before Erik used his full strength to undo your skirts and toss them to the side revealing your modern undergarments. Desperate kisses and licks were placed to your inner thighs and lower stomach as tears flowed freely down Erik’s face and your hand found it’s way to his head.

“Erik, darling, I have to go-”

“Fuck me! Please! Please fuck me! I’m yours! Pleaseplease-baise moi! Use me! Use me however you please! I want to pleasure you! I’m yours to kiss! Yours to touch! Yours to mark up! Please mon ange, I want you to tell me I’m your good boy! Mon ange, please don’t leave me again!”

Erik could barely speak coherently. Sobs and shudders wracked his body as he held you like a lifeline, his crestfallen appearance causing your heart to ache. Noticing your reluctance to leave, Erik began to frantically mouth at your clit through your underwear causing small pleasured sighs to leave your mouth as he began to grind his erection against your legs.

“Mm- mon ah- ange, p-please, I ne-ed you to- I need you to-mmmh! I need you to fuck me senseless! Need you to-ah! Need you to fuck me until I-I only-mm! Know y-your name! Mark me up as yours, leave-mmmph-lovebites all over my body, I’m begging you!”

Now how could you say no to a plea like that?

“You’re so cute Erik~ Alright darling, but you have to let go of me so I can take the rest of my clothes off.”

“Non! Allow me to do it!”

Rising to his feet, Erik began to hastily remove your corset and stockings, his mouth watering as your chest was freed from its confines. You looked so pretty, so perfect! How could someone as twisted and hideous as he be deserving of someone so kind and angelic as you?

Taking note that the man’s tears had begun to run anew, you cupped Erik’s face and began to gently kiss away the salty droplets. Closing his eyes and trying to somehow hold you even closer, Erik’s distorted mouth surged forward and captured your lips with a fervent passion.

Pulling away slightly, you looked up at Erik and noted just how blissed out he appeared before you had even truly touched him. His lips swollen and red, his pupils dilated to the point they looked like small voids, and a rouge hue had spread all over his cheeks to his ears as he let out breathy whispers of your name.

“Go lay down on my bed, amour, let me take care of you~”

Scrambling to obey you, Erik’s gangly form nearly tripped in his haste to make his way to your plush mattress, and yet still he kept a hand on you at all times and cried out for you if he even got the smallest notion you would leave his grasp. Once situated, Erik helped guide your form to sit just above his pelvis and mere millimeters away from his twitching cock.

“Mon ange, I-I should really like my reward now!”

“Of course darling, what would you like me to do with you?”

Looking down into Erik’s eyes, the determination that laid within them was almost enough to make you startle. Whatever it is that he wanted, he wanted it badly. Taking in a deep breath to try and form something other than an overexcited and incoherent mess, Erik gently placed his hands on your thighs and began to rub soft circles with the tips of his nimble, trembling fingers.

“I want you to sit on my face!”

“Erik-”

“You swore it could be anything! And this is what I desire immensely!”

“Erik I don’t want to accidentally hurt you…”

“You will not harm me, I assure you! Please, I need your taste so badly mon ange!”

“Well…I did say it could be anything…”

The words had hardly escaped your mouth before Erik was trying to pull you up to his top half.

“Mercimercimerci! I’ll make you feel so good mon ange!”

Before you could process, Erik had your knees on either side of his head as he bit his lip and his eyes gleamed with eagerness.

“Erik, are you sure-”

You cut yourself off with a small gasp as you felt Erik’s tongue make a trail from your vagina and end at your clit as his lips enclosed the small bud and he began to suck gently. Gripping the head board and resting your face in your arms, you peered down at Erik and were met with a half lidded gaze of pleasure. You could physically feel the way his mouth was curved up into a smile around your clit, as well as feel the bucking of his hips into the air as Erik fought to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head. It seemed he could tell you were only hovering though, as Erik pulled away, licking his lips so that he could beg you for more.

“Mon ange, I want your full weight on my face! I want you to grind against me and orgasm for me!”

Not waiting to hear your response, Erik gripped your thighs and pulled you all the way down until your resolve broke and finally you sat a little more firmly upon Erik’s face. Your clit was positioned directly against the bridge of his nose as his tongue pushed forwards into you as far as it could physically go, but nothing could prepare you for the sensation of Erik taking ahold of your hips and beginning to rock you against his face with reverence. Small moans left your parted lips to match Erik’s own. It felt like all your nerves were short circuiting with every back and forth motion against your clit, reaching down to gently pet Erik’s head and tensing your thighs as the man’s appreciative moan vibrated into you.

“F-fuck, Erik! You feel so good!”

Your words made Erik’s eyes roll towards the back of his head, his hips desperately trying to get friction against the open air. Thrusting and twisting his tongue inside of you, Erik gripped your hips harder as he tried to bring you even closer to him while still continuing to rock you even faster. You tasted absolutely divine, and the way you moaned his name wasn’t doing him any favors in trying to keep himself from cumming. You could feel every little movement of his tongue inside your walls, and eventually you had no choice but to let your legs give out and to settle onto Erik completely, moaning as the wet appendage moved all the more frantically inside you and your clit ground Erik’s nose even harder.

“Good boy, Erik! You’re doing so good for me, fuck, I’m gonna cum! You’re eating me out so good, baby!”

That was the final straw for Erik, the feeling of you surrounding him and the amount of trust and love you put into his being, combined with the fact he was pleasuring you had him seeing stars as he grabbed at you to try and hold you closer. As Erik’s cum hit your backside you rocked yourself faster, and finally as his moans reached their crescendo, you were pushed over the edge, your hand gently stroking what of his face you could reach. Erik swore the feeling of your thighs tightening around him was pure bliss and if given the chance, he would stay like this forever, drinking down your orgasm like it was the sweetest ambrosia.

Moving to get off of Erik, you were halted as his hands held you in an iron grip as he once again began to push his tongue inside of you and make you ride his face.

“E-Erik! Wait, s-stop!”

Squirming in his grasp, you used your hands to pry his fingers off of your hips and raise your self up. Or atleast, you would have risen had it not been for Erik recapturing your hips once more, his eyes that had been half lidded were now blown wide open in desperation and panic, preventing you from moving.

“No, no, no, please! Please, I need more! I need more! P-please!”

Erik couldn’t help the tears that had begun to fall as he begged, he didn’t want to stop! He wanted you to keep orgasming in his mouth as he got lost in your presence, for you to keep chanting his name and tell him he was being such a good boy just for you! Desperate whispers of ‘please, mon ange!’ Spewed from Erik’s mouth as he once again tried to lower you back down onto his face.

“Erik, darling, I’m to sensitive for you to do that right now. Why don’t you let me pleasure you instead? You obviously need it~”

Looking back at Erik’s cock, you could see just how red it was and how it twitched at your words.

“B-but, but-”

“Shhhhhh, mon amour. Let me take care of you, okay?”

Reluctantly, Erik let go of you and allowed you to rise. You were just about to make your way down to his abdomen when Erik’s voice resounded throughout your chamber.

“Wait! Mon ange, can you kiss me? Please? I need to feel you close to me!”

Chuckling softly, you cupped Erik’s face gently and leaned forward as he closed his eyes in anticipation. What Erik was not expecting, however, was for you to begin to plant kisses all over his twisted flesh. One on his nose, another on his eyelid, and several on his cheek and forehead before finally you slotted your lips against his in a loving kiss. You weren’t close enough! Erik wanted you even closer somehow, he thought to himself, the love he felt for you quickly becoming overwhelming as he began to whimper and cry, cupping your face with both hands and pressing himself against you with fervor.

“Can you m-mark me up, please, mon amour? And may I-” Erik cut himself off with a nervous swallow. “May I mark you up too this time?”

“Of course, my love~”

Turning Erik’s head to the side you began to kiss and nibble on his earlobe, harsh pants leaving his mouth as he drew his arms around your waist.

“Do you like that, darling?” You whispered directly against the shell of his ear.

“Oui! Please! Ah- (y/n)! Please, I need-mmm!- please!”

You felt his breath catch and his grip around you tighten as you began to place wet open mouth kisses on the underside of his jaw and along his larynx, listening to Eriks soft pleas for you to leave lasting marks and not just light kisses. Gently tilting his head for better access you began to suck all over the right side of Erik’s neck, drawing his warm skin into your mouth for you to bite and use your tongue to toy with him slightly. Moving to the other side of his neck you repeated the same process, silently giggling to yourself as you felt Erik try and grind his cock against any part of you he could. Leaning back, you gently caressed all the red marks that would surely fade into purple splotches in an hour.

“You said you wanted to give me some too?”

“Yes…please!”

You helped Erik sit up and position himself against the bed frame before settling back down into his lap, brushing your stomach against his cock. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around your waist and lowered his face into your neck and began to slowly kiss all over, listening for any indications that he found your sweet spot. A sensual kiss below your ear had you letting out low moans and your face flushing, exciting Erik and washing away his nervousness as he sucked on your skin with a fiery passion. Moving to the other side, Erik repeated the process, but this time he became a bit more bold as he gently bit down and mirrored what you had done to him previously, moaning softly at the sensation of you grinding against him. Pulling away to gaze at your neck, Erik’s face heated up further at the marks that mirrored his own, need for you to fuck him stupid flowing through his veins.

“Are you ready, amour?”

“Yes, please, yes! Please fuck me! I need it, I need you!”

“Okay, lie on your back for me, sugar~”

Your honeyed tone sent shivers down Erik’s spine as you straddled his hips once he was comfortable, your scent and warmth nearly overwhelming him in the best way. Grinding yourself over his cock, you leaned down and cut the whimpers that bubbled from Erik’s throat short with a kiss as he tried to flex himself up into you.

“Someone’s eager~”

“Please, please, please, please, fuck me! No more teasing, please!!”

You lifted yourself up and firmly grabbed the base of Erik’s cock to line it up with your entrance, watching his eyes roll back as you engulfed him completely, a loud moan tearing from his throat and fading into a whimper. Slowly lifting up on your knees once more, a gasp left your lips as you dropped back down and pinned Erik’s wrists by his head. Interlacing his fingers with your and gripping tightly, Erik tried to bring his hips to meet yours with every rock of your body against his whilst keening noises spilled past his mouth and echoed into the open air.

“Haaghh- please, please, plea-mmhmm! Oh, so good! Mhmmph! Ah! Ah! Please!!!”

At this point Erik wasn’t sure what he was begging for, all he knew was that you were here with him and that you were making him feel good. Erik loved you so, so much, so much that he swore it would burst out of every fiber of his being, and the knowledge that you loved him as well only intensified the pleasure you provided him with.

“That’s it, good boy, Erik~ You’re doing so well, you’re my perfect, handsome, good boy~”

Your words struck a cord deep within Erik, and as you bounced on him faster he found himself babbling incoherently.

“Ah! (Y/n) I-I-I- ah! Good! (Y/n)! (Y/n)! Ah! Ah! Feels to good! Mmm- I-I-I’m orgas-mm! Ah! Please! Plea-mmm!”

“Go ahead darling, good boys deserve rewards after all~”

That was all the permission it took for the cord in Erik’s stomach to snap, his eyes rolling back, his mouth agape in a sob of your name, and his back arching up into you as you fucked him through his orgasm.

“Mon ange! Ple-please don’t st-mmhaah-please don’t stop! Wanna-ah-ah-ah! Wanna make you-oh! Veux te faire jouir!! Veux te faire jouir!! S'il vous plaît!!”

Untangling one of his hands from yours, Erik began to frantically rub circles into your clit as you kept fucking him per his request. Already you could feel the sensation of a spring tightening in your stomach and just by looking at Erik you could tell he was close again, powering through the overstimulation to make you cum on his cock.

“F-fuck Erik! You really-mm! D-don’t know what you-ah-do to m-me!”

“Mon ange, s'il vous plaît l'orgasme!!!”

One final plea for you to orgasm was all it took for you to finally fall over the edge and into pure bliss, smashing your lips onto Erik’s in a near bruising kiss as Erik came inside you for a second time. After you both came down from your highs you gently maneuvered your self off of Erik and pulled him to your chest, knowing he would want to cuddle and nap before anything else.

“You’re such a good boy, Erik, and you did so good for me. I hope you realize how much I love you, my darling~”

“Je t’aime, je t’aime, je t’aime! I love you so much mon ange, I know for certain I would perish without you.”

“I love you too sugar, never forget that! Now let’s take a nap and get cleaned up, okay baby?”

“Merci, mon ange. It means the world and more.”

—————————————————————————

AAAHH! This took me so long I’m so sorry! But anyway, I hope y’all enjoyed!! :)

[golden-wingseos]

“uh oh.”

when they accidentally embarrass themselves in front of their crush... [y/n].

featuring —

✧ bennett, chongyun, diluc, zhongli (separate) x gn!reader

warnings ―

✧ not proofread, blood (not graphic, but mentions), mentions of death

notes ―

✧ woke up at 5am, had this idea, wrote it all at 5am... went back to sleep 😻

𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓  -: ✧ :-゜・．

he was living life, actually talking to you until...

until he accidentally. slipped. and fell flat on his face. and what makes it even worse? the moment he got up, he slipped again. right on his bottom

to anybody else—maybe that wasn’t too bad! yeah! it’s okay, chin up king!

no. absolutely not. because he was about to confess to you. he had the flowers (a single windwheel aster) ready! 

“ah, bennett, are you okay?” you smiled, holding your hand out to him as he short-circuited, his life replaying through his very eyes as he prepared to dig his grave and hop right in

“your nose is a little red, here,” pulling out a handkerchief, you let bennett wipe his slightly bloody nose as you handed him a cute band-aid for future needs

“a-ah, thank you! [y/n]!” bennett cradled the band-aid you gave him, his heart still pounding in his chest—but now, it was at least two times faster

hmm, even if he did brutally embarrass himself in front of you and messed up his confession... at least you gave him a band-aid!

don’t be surprised when he goes home to tell his expecting-dads... 

“hey bennett, did you do it? did ya confess?”

“no! but i got a band-aid!”

“. . . oh you bet they like you, benny!” one of his dads laughed, slapping bennett’s back as the adolescent boy lurched forward upon impact

feeling his now dry nose, bennett’s mouth hung agape at the thought

you liking him? wow... did anybody want to like him?

well, he could only hope!

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐘𝐔𝐍  -: ✧ :-゜・．

you bet it—he accidentally (was fed) jueyun chilis!

xingqiu was having the time of his life. but chongyun? king was partying on top of tables, announcing his profound love for you, sobbing because he thought you didn’t like him... you name it

glaring at xingqiu, you mouthed ‘i’ll kill you’ while chongyun was joining xinyan’s performance as the orange-eyed fellow winced under your stare, whistling innocently while you chased to catch up to chongyun

“oi! chongyun! you can’t interrupt xinyan’s—“

“[y/nnn]! i missed you!” the boy immediately turned around, rushing towards you with his hands outstretched for a hug

“you just saw me like five minutes ago...”

“i love you, hehe.”

was he even listening? your eyes widened at the use of the ‘l’ word. seriously? how could he throw it around so easily? even when you two weren’t even dating!

“i... um... yes,” you nodded, patting his back stiffly as he hugged you. you had never been this close to chongyun before, for he often held everyone at arm’s length to not trigger his condition

and yet, as he embraced you. you noticed the sky blue light of his hair, the scent of mint and the many popsicles he ate fanning off of the white garments of his clothing

xingqiu—who watched from afar—merely smirked, patting himself on the back as he opened up a book as to not look obvious with his staring

“another one for the great xingqiu!” he quietly snickered.

and once he cooled down, chongyun’s HORROR when he heard the rumors from walking down liyue’s streets. older women giggling at him for how cute he was while he slowly went insane

what did they mean he hugged you? and confessed his love? what!? you didn’t mention any of those things! neither did the usually-teasing xingqiu

and oh boy... the pure embarrassment he feels when the mr. zhongli confirms those rumors... he has to go scarf down four popsicles or else he’d trigger his condition again

“i’m so sorry [y/n] i’m so sorry [y/n] i’m so sorry [y/n]—“

ah. you hummed, nodding at his apologies as you made an observation

he was cute with his condition triggered and without

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂  -: ✧ :-゜・．

how did the diluc of mondstadt get embarrassed? well, you see, it was kaeya! why of course it was kaeya... kaeya was the source of all of diluc’s problems /hj

he was just bartending for angel’s share, you know, the usual. and then, you came in!

you bet his crimson eyes did a double-take. you drink?! even he didn’t know that

and once he saw the oh-so-familiar irritable blue hair of his (regrettably) brother, his eyes narrowed at the sight. was this a date?

his suspicions were confirmed to be true by kaeya, who simply grinned as you were oblivious to the silent fight the brothers were having, their eyes darting around as to symbolize the words they could not share with your presence here

“ah, [y/n]. what can i get you?”

“uh, apple cider is fine,” you smiled, sending the red-head’s heart racing at least at 200000 beats per minute

“hm, quite good taste, dear!” kaeya smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as diluc deadpanned, his irritation growing as he clutched his hands a bit too tight around the glass cup, shattering it with the mere squeeze of his fingers

oh crap. diluc thought.

oh crap. kaeya thought.

the WAY diluc wanted to bash his skull in. he would’ve handed kaeya his claymore, his eyes devoid of any emotion as all he could muster out was “do it, kaeya. kill me.”

kaeya’s widened eyes quickly turned crinkle as he laughed, getting kicked out of the tavern as you watched the entire exchange silently, your face contorting into confusion, then worry, then back to confusion

“i—uh, sorry, i’ll remake your drink...” diluc cleared his throat, a light blush dusting his face as he ignored the shattered shards on the floor, fixing you up another apple cider as he practically heard kaeya’s taunting voice in his ears

“yEaH. i’Ll rEmAkE yOuR dRiNk.”

now diluc really wants to bash his skull in.

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈  -: ✧ :-゜・．

he didn’t get embarrassed during the time. only until he went home, replayed it in his mind, screamed into a pillow, and prepared to go into a solitary hideout did he realize how much he messed up

it was just a normal day for the ex-archon—walking through liyue with you by his side as he utilized his knowledge in informing you about the ways of the harbor, and ultimately, life!

and while you walked towards a restaurant, zhongli being the gentleman he is, held the door for you

of course, if it weren’t for trying to push on a pull-door. 

he made it blatantly obvious too, trying his best to push through the laws of engineering as you stared, a small smile dusting your face like the golden light that’d shine through liyue harbor

he merely said ‘oh’ once he pulled it, opening it for you without a care in the world as his gentlemanly duties were always first

but oh boy did his amber eyes morph in embarrassment while he sat alone in his home, his face buried into his pillow as he could not bear this—this travesty of his past self

did you notice? probably. is that why you smiled at him? oh crap! he’s such a fool, a big fool. stop. get rid of it. get rid of the memories

at least the others (bennett, chongyun, diluc) can forget about it once they die. but oh boy—zhongli? he’s gonna remember that for another century

but hey... at least he was considerate? ah hah?

“no,” his voice was muffled against the fluffy texture of his pillows, his eyes scrunched in embarrassment as he forced himself to fall asleep

ah... how you had him in such a trance you could bring even him to embarrassment

[kithtaehyung]

Room 3 | PJM

summary: it’s just another normal day for you at the wellness center until it suddenly isn’t.  note: standalone for now! part 2 is semi-written but no solid plans atm. note 2 (june 7th, 2021): this will be revamped in the future! i really enjoyed this premise so i won’t get rid of it completely.  pairing: idol!jimin x massage therapist!reader  genre: fluff  word count: 9,188

-

-

Thirteen. 

The sidewalk underneath your feet has thirteen cracks in the little square you stand in.  Sliding a small rock into one of them provides you with something to do until you hear the squeaking, screeching brakes of a bus struggling to a stop in front of you.  

You adjust the strap on your shoulder as the doors open with a hydraulic hiss, and you give the driver a small smile before finding a place to stand.  There aren’t many people commuting today, so it’s a pleasant surprise that you get to sit down for a change. 

It was just another day in your life.  You got up this morning and did your routine, listened to your wake up music on repeat, and checked that you had your wallet, phone, keys, and earphones before heading down to the bus stop.  The very same earphones are still on as you now have your library on shuffle, and you hum along to the “na na na’s” of the current tune. 

Living in Seoul for about a year now, you were pretty settled in.  The people were accommodating, the quality of life was much better than where you were before, and you felt like you could live here for the rest of your days.  It was insanely tough at first, but the initial culture shock and feeling of loneliness lessened as you made friends and befriended coworkers.  You don’t have many people close to you here, but you can count on the ones that are.  

You turn your head to gaze out the windows.  Shimmering glass buildings tower over you, shops and street signs whiz by, and people look like they’re walking in slow motion as you follow them with your eyes.  Blips of pastels and bold colors mingle together and you look down to observe your own monochrome uniform.  For the place you worked at, you didn’t expect the clothes to look luxurious, but they’re actually designed very well.  And they’re soft.  

That’s enough for you.    

Your stop is next, so you hook your arm around the nearest pole to prep.  The steel has a coldness that seeps into your sleeve, but your only thought is wondering what you should eat for lunch.  

-

Why do you feel so tense? 

The sign right above you emits a sense of relaxation, but there’s a tightness in your shoulders.  Odd.  You lock your phone with one hand and grip the strap of your pack with the other before taking a deep breath.  You count down from three before letting it out.  

The hiss of your exhale mingles with the standard sounds of the city, and you concentrate on the flow of life both inside your body and the environment around you.  You did this often when you felt out of place, and it served to recalibrate you and your thoughts.  Storing your phone away, you make your way inside the frosted glass doors. 

Working at one of Seoul’s prestigious wellness centers was definitely something you were proud of.  If there was one thing you’ve wanted for years, it was for a way for you to massage yourself.  Everyone seemed to love your massages, but no one knew how to massage you.  That is, until you came here.  You’ve never experienced people knowing exactly where you were hurting and effectively working out all of those kinks during one session.  It was magical.   

What is even more magical is the fact that you joined the ranks of those same angels from above.  You love them, and they love you.

“Good morning! I hate you!” 

Well.

“Morning, Yoon,” you respond lowly as you take your earphones out and store them. “Love you, too.” As you walk around front reception, Yoon smiles at you and comments, 

“No, really, I think you legitimately repulse me now.”

You shoot her a look of pure terror. “What the hell did I do?”

“Nothing,” she sighs, dropping her eyes to the papers in front of her.  

In a state of panic, your mind speeds through any events that happened since the last time you saw her.  Did you accidentally ignore her once?  Look at her funny?  Yoon was big on body language. 

You didn’t realize you were still staring at her until she tapped the glass counter between you two.  “Hey, I’m sorry. I know you’re nervous. I just thought jokes would help.” 

What? 

“I’m not nervous, just tense for some reason.  Although, you definitely made it worse,” you admit, “I might need to take a longer break today and somehow get Jay to rub my shoulders.  Maybe I can bribe him with samgy--” 

“--Uhh, forget him; have you even checked your client list for this week?  I’ll do anything if you switch your schedule with me.” 

Double-what?

“Okay, now you’re just being weird,” you chuckle, “But also, no, I haven’t checked yet.  It’s Monday!”   

In a sing-song manner, Yoon warns, “You better check your schedule before I snatch it...”

You laugh again and wave her off, but her words only mess with your head.  As you make your way to the back room, you fidget and check your phone for any notifications you missed between when you exited the bus and now.  You don’t know what you expected: still nothing.  

As if you feel the weight of eyes on you, you glance up and notice some people are giving you looks.  

What in the hell is going on?  It’s 7am on a Monday and therefore way too early for people to be this upset with you.  Yoon may have said she was joking, but by the looks of everyone else...

A hand claps onto your shoulder, causing you to yelp and feel like you rocket right into the ceiling.  Only the hearty laugh beside you clues you in on who you were getting revenge on later. 

“Geez, someone’s not looking forward to today.” 

“You better sleep with one eye open tonight, Jay,” you seeth, hands rubbing your temples as you struggle to steady your heart rate. “Also, what’s so special about today?  Yoon was being strange just a second ago, too.”  

Your coworker looks at you like you have seven heads. “Okay, first off: if I had the amount of adrenaline in your body right now, I wouldn’t be able to sleep at all.  And second: you didn’t check your schedule yet?” 

They didn’t know it, but they were going to be the death of you. 

“No, I ha--It’s a Mon--you know what, I’m going to check now; you guys are killing me.” You leave Jay in a rush and race to the employee lounge.  The anxiousness in your chest is bubbling over.  

Jay’s on your heels, whispering loudly, “I can spoil it right now if you want!” 

You respond in a low voice, “Don’t you have a client to see?” 

“Nope!” 

You round the corner and see the back room door is already open, so you power through and head straight for the docking table on the other side.  Everyone working here has a personal tablet, and you unplug yours from the charging port.  Pressing through the menus as quickly as the tablet allows, you feel a thin layer of sweat on your skin.  Touch ID.  Login.  Main Menu.  Scheduling.  Weekly Outlook.  Confidentiality Prompt.

Shit. 

Confidentiality Prompts are for the therapists that have huge clients scheduled.  They’re put in place for celebrities and business executives to have guaranteed privacy.  

With a start, you wonder why the hell Yoon wanted your schedule.  Everyone here is wary of high-profile people.  It’s a whole different experience since they basically hold your life in their hands in each session.  You recall a horror story that happened when you first started working there, and still don’t know where that employee ended up.  

Your only problem is that you’ve never had to deal with this before.  Jay, Yoon, and a bunch of the veterans have, but this is going to be your first. 

“Damn, yours is longer than mine was,” Jay observes before you squeeze your tablet to your chest.  “That looks intense.” 

“Umm, snoopy much?” You shift your body away from him and speed read through the very long, very wordy window.  When you hit Accept, another window pops up that you have to read through.  This one is even more fine print. You suddenly realize something and dart your eyes up.  “Wait, you got one, too?” 

Jay nods and looks away, and he actually looks nervous.  “Yeah, we all got them this time.” 

Now that is alarming.  This client must be something else. 

Window after window comes up and you wonder if you should probably read these in earnest.  It’s starting to genuinely scare you.  

If this is that big of a deal… 

You banish that thought from your mind as soon as it appears.  Elephants would have to fall from the sky before you believe someone from that group is booking you here.   

You hit Accept before you realize you didn’t actually read and instead mindlessly scrolled through the prompts.  As the screen buffers, you bite your lip.

The screen goes back to normal and presents your schedule for today.  Your coworkers are living their normal lives, putting their stuff in their lockers and getting materials ready for various sessions.  Jay is being completely normal as he can’t stop laughing at your expression.  

And your life is anything but normal anymore because elephants are dropping from the clouds and the words Monday, 8am, Park Jimin are staring you right in the face. 

-

“You mean to tell me that you cleared your morning schedule just to see my reaction?” 

Jay laughs in earnest. “Yes, and it was so worth it.” 

You are failing to stop bouncing your leg as you wait at one of the tables in the employee lounge.  There’s a cup of coffee in front of you, but you already know you aren’t going to drink a drop of it.  You are about to be in close quarters with the equivalent of a royal family member, so coffee breath is out of the question. 

Suddenly self-conscious, you ask, “Do you have a toothbrush I can borrow?” 

“I actually do.  Let me grab it.” 

As your friend gets up, you scrutinize the table in front of you to avoid peoples’ lingering stares.  How everyone somehow knew your upcoming client before you did was a mystery, but you don’t really care enough at the moment to find out.   

Jay hands you what you asked for and you thank him before heading to the bathroom to freshen up.  After you brush your teeth like a madman, you check your face for discrepancies and sigh at your choice of almost no makeup today.  

You can’t help but wonder if the thirteen cracks in the sidewalk are laughing at you at this very moment.  

Checking your smart watch, you realize you have either the longest or shortest 30 minutes of your life left before your appointment with Jimin.  

You huff out a laugh at how ridiculous that sounds.  You refuse to believe this is real until you physically see him in the room.  Confidentiality forms or not, the name Park Jimin or not, you still can’t wrap your head around the situation. 

Speaking of the forms, you assume that they were printed out for company records as soon as you submitted yours to sign.  You decide to head back to the front desk after throwing Jay his spare toothbrush, to which he responds with pure disgust. 

-

It was like Yoon was waiting for you because as soon as you open the glass doors, she’s  hounding you, “So what did you do in a past life?  Did you save an emperor?  Rescue a prophet?” 

“I don’t know about a past life, but I did save a turtle when I was five.”  You tap your fingers on the reception desk and stare at the orchids on the counter.  “Or at least I thought I did.  I probably just made his life harder.  Can I see a copy of the forms I signed?” 

“I’m gonna go with the saved prophet.  Which one was it?” 

“Yoon,” you beg, desperate as you glance at the abstract clock above her and see that you have 20 minutes left.  A mere 20 minutes until he is supposed to arrive to check-in.

“Okay, okay!  Hold on,” she chuckles and rolls her chair away from you and towards the printer.  “By the way, if I wasn’t the one checking him in, I would’ve hijacked your entire day already.”  

Her words are garbled since you are laser-focused on rubbing an orchid petal between your fingers.  Its soft and supple touch is calming you, and just for a second, you are able to clear your thoughts.  

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when Yoon hands you the forms.  The paper is still warm as you thank her and head towards the doors. 

“Oh, wait,” Yoon calls behind you, and you turn to see her grabbing another small stack of papers.  When she extends them over the counter, she explains, “I was waiting until you saw your schedule to hand these over.  Read through them carefully.”

“Thanks,” you whisper, even more anxious than before. 

-

Your heart jumps into your throat when you see what Yoon handed over.  You don’t even remember the walk to the back lounge and to one of the secluded tables; all you can focus on are the papers in front of you.  They look like they were written on and scanned before being sent over to the wellness center.   

It’s Jimin’s handwriting.  

You’ve seen his penmanship before.  There is no mistaking the neat, determined strokes.  Even the way he checked the boxes and circled the pain points on diagrams proves very... well, him.  Any other uncertainty dissolves after you see his birthday filled in, as well.  

This is really happening.

You gently slam the papers on the table and hunch over to commit the information to memory.  Months and months of schooling have sharpened this ability of yours, and you are determined to imagine this as just another client you have to memorize.  

Light to medium pressure.  Avoid anything above light pressure around the spinal area and lower back.  Shoulders, calves, and feet are pain points.  Facial area priority.   

A trip to the countryside right at this very moment sounds like a fantastic idea.  

Jay plops into the seat in front of you, and that thought bubble bursts.  “This color on your face suits you.  Reminds me of what’s-his-name, Edward.” 

“How much time do I have,” you question, not even acknowledging him.  

“Seven minutes.” 

“Of course,” you mutter before standing, the irony not lost on you.  “I’ll go prep now.” 

You don’t see Jay waving you off.  “If you survive, I’ll see you on the other side!” 

A laugh escapes you.  Personally, your only goal is to make it through five minutes.  If you pass away after that, you would have no regrets. 

-

You stand behind the reception doors with your tablet to your chest, staring at the wall across the way.  The subtle wallpaper pattern is a great choice for this place, you decide. 

Indescribable anxiousness and fear aside, you have a job to do.  As long as you keep your outside actions professional, your inner turmoil can be whatever the hell it wants.  You’ve been in this profession long enough and you know you’re ready to do this.  You’ve seen the whole spectrum of human emotion in this line of work.  No matter how well of a job you do, there are still people that are never happy.  As long as you focus on keeping the client’s wellness and health in mind, you keep your consciousness clear.   

Then again, you haven’t had to deal with a client like Park Jimin before, let alone a high executive or well-known actress.  

A muffled “Good morning and welcome” reaches your ears and you push yourself off the wall.  The frosted glass only allows you to see so much, but you can make out a few guys standing in the front area.  Two are taller and only wearing dark clothes, and the other is a bit shorter.  The latter is looking to be wearing a beanie, light colored top, and dark pants.

You can’t hear anyone talking other than Yoon, but suddenly the shorter one makes his way to your doors.  

It’s him.  You’re absolutely sure. 

Steeling your resolve, you pull your side open.  With a smile, you look straight at your client’s sunglasses-and-mask-clad face and greet him just like you would anyone else, “Good morning and welcome.  Am I speaking to Mr. Park?”

He stills for a second before he nods. 

“Nice to meet you.  We’ll be in Room 3.”

-

Jimin bows to you slightly and whispers a thank you, and you follow him to your room.  Your heart is rattling nonstop as you note the height difference between the two of you.  It isn’t as bad as you thought it was.  

The door to Room 3 is already open, and when Jimin enters you stop at the entrance.  

You lied earlier.  None of this feels real.  He’s physically in the room, and you still don’t think this is happening.

You let Jimin put his bag down on the corner chair before gliding into the formal greeting, “Since this is our first session, please let me know if there’s anything you need.  I did go over your forms, but if there was something that wasn’t specified, feel free to ask.  I want to make sure all of your needs are met today.” 

“Your name?” 

You falter. “What?”  Did he just... 

Jimin takes off his sunglasses, and you feel all oxygen leave your body.  He’s still wearing a mask, but you can see that his eyes are creased just a tad.  “It wasn’t specified on the forms.  Your name?” 

A part of you just chalks this up to being standard Jimin behavior, but the other part of you wonders if he really didn’t know whom he was getting a massage from.  Did Yoon not tell him?  Check-in is supposed to confirm your specialist. 

You also note that his voice is infinitely softer in person.  TV and recordings did not do this man justice.  

Keeping it professional is all you must do.  You tell him your name, apologizing for not introducing yourself already.  It’s also on your tablet, so you show him while you talk. 

Jimin leans forward to read it and smiles again. “Ah.  Pretty.” 

Are your five minutes up?  Can you pass away now?  He’s a mere six feet away from you but it feels like his presence is engulfing you. 

All that escapes you is a tiny thank you.  “So, mhm,” you clear your throat and yell at yourself to get it together, “Go ahead and undress down to your comfort level and lie down on the bed with the sheet on top of you.  That remote there is connected to my tablet, so just take it off the charger and bring it to the bed. You can press the green button whenever you’re ready.” 

Jimin looks towards the console table next to him and sees the white remote.  It’s docked in a sleek charging port and stands out against the light wood.  He nods, and you give him one last smile before reaching out and closing the door.

-

The only words your brain can process at the moment are not work appropriate, so you just go on autopilot to the employee lounge.  You expected Jay or even Yoon to be chomping at your heels as soon as you left Jimin by himself, but neither of them are around.  That was completely fine: employees aren’t allowed to divulge anything that goes on in client sessions unless it’s dangerous to either of you. 

You help yourself to a cup of water and down it before pouring another.  The fruit flavor for today is strawberry, and you watch the fruit and ice swirl around as you stir the big glass container.  There are pastries and assorted breakfast foods calling your name in the clear cabinet next to you, but you refuse.  Your adrenaline is hindering your appetite.  

People are still giving you daggers for stares, but after seeing Jimin in person you really can’t blame them.  Even when you couldn’t even see his face, you felt his presence.  His aura filled up that entire room and he only spoke around ten words.  It would be a lie to say that you aren’t intimidated.  You can already count the number of times you almost bolted out of the room on two hands.  But you made yourself proud: as long as you keep your outer actions calm, you can get through this.  Your voice was fairly level for someone whose heart was bouncing out of their ribcage.  In the end, you want to make him feel comfortable and safe.  Emotions cannot exist right now.

Self-deprecation comes into play as you wonder if this is a huge mistake and if Jimin is already out the door to find a better therapist.  

Oh, well.  At least he said your name was pretty. 

Your doubts are casted aside as your tablet dings.  

Jimin’s ready for you. 

-

When you enter the room, you can see that your client followed your instructions completely.  You glance at the corner chair and see that he even folded his clothes and set his jewelry neatly on the thin, long table.  Since Jimin can’t see you from his position, you allow a warm smile to grace your features.  

You close the door as softly as you can.  The way the room is designed, the clients lie down so that their head is opposite the doorway.  It takes you a few steps until you reach the head of the bed.  You gingerly take the remote from where Jimin placed it next to his neck and turn around to redock it, and start to dim the lights with your tablet.  Per standard, you ask, “Mr. Park, is this okay, or would you like the lights lower?” 

His voice is projecting straight towards the floor, but it still sounds so light, “This is good, but please, call me Jimin.”  

That’s definitely not what you expected, but you are touched.  You nod before realizing that he still can’t see you.  “Do you have a music preference for today?”

“Whatever you prefer is fine.”  

Jimin is being so agreeable that your nerves start to dissipate.  You were expecting him to at least be a little particular at some things, but he is being really easy to work with.  The atmosphere starts to feel safe enough for you to joke, “Well, it does depend on my mood, so for now I’ll play Standard Spa Chord Progression, No. 5 instead of No. 3.” 

The small chuckle you hear melts your heart.  “Ah, is that the one with the harp?” 

“No, that’s Spa Concerto, No. 4. We don’t have that one in our library, but I think it’s terrible anyways.” 

Jimin’s head lifts from the table in an earnest laugh, and you can’t help but laugh with him.  It’s infectious.  

You select a random song on your tablet, and you weren’t lying when you said it was standard.  The song is less of a song and more like a bunch of reverberating chords in slow succession.  That’s one thing you noticed about this place: modern tech but very outdated music.  Get with the times!  At least have some nice piano covers to choose from. 

“Not having Spa Concerto, No. 4 may be a deal-breaker for me,” Jimin comments, a hint of a smile in his voice.  

You’re still tapping on your tablet to get to his file, and you make your way back to the door.  There’s a clear slot on each room’s door to hold employee tablets, and as soon as you store yours, you can finally start.  “I don’t blame you, even though I think it’s awful, that one still topped the char--Oh, shit!”   

You aren’t watching where you’re going, so you don’t see the shoes in your path.  It’s so dim in the room and his shoes match the floor color but none of that matters because right now you are falling and you are falling fast.  Your first instinct is to grab the table, but that would risk pulling the blanket off of Jimin and you would rather die than do that to him. 

So, floor it is.

Your hand not holding the tablet breaks some of the fall, but your face definitely makes contact with the ground.  You can feel the slight burn on your nose and hand, and a sharp lingering pain follows.  

Okay, now can you pass away.  Someone from the heavens can come claim you now.    

Drowning in shame, you don’t help yourself off the floor right away.  Not only were you breaking your rule and joking around, you also weren’t paying attention and now possibly ruined Park Jimin’s shoes.  

You’ll look up good resigning practices later tonight.  You have enough money saved up to make it a couple months without a job, you reckon.  

When you finally lift yourself off the floor, you turn around and see Jimin pushed up on the table.  His whole upper body is bare and twisted towards you, and this is the first time you see his entire face.  It’s more beautiful in person, you conclude, even though it conveys nothing but concern right now.  “Are you okay?” 

You nod furiously and stand up completely. Your voice is shaky as you apologize, “I am so sorry.  One moment.” Before checking yourself, you check your personal tablet.  To say it was worth more than you isn’t that far of a reach.  No scratches, though. Praise be.

“Don’t apologize… Did you trip on my shoes?”

Embarrassment washes over you as you nod, not looking at Jimin.  Placing your tablet gingerly on the console table, you dust your uniform down and inspect your hands and feel your nose.  Luckily, there’s no blood, only slight rug burns.  If there was blood, you would have to postpone the appointment until you effectively sanitized.  With what you have, you just need to go wash up.  

Jimin is still watching you intently, which makes your face burn even more.  What a mess.  He’s probably second-guessing this whole thing.  

You bow, feeling tears at the corners of your eyes.  “Mr. Park, I am so sorry.” 

“Jimin.” 

“I’ll just need to clean my hands and then I promise we will start as soon as I get back.  I know your time is valuable so I’ll make up for the minutes we lost.” 

“I… Okay.  Thank you.” 

You make your way out of the room, still courteous enough to shut the door quietly.  Rushing to the nearest sink, a small sob leaves your throat as you wring your hands under the water.  Life is kind to you at this moment because no one is around.  You would never live it down if someone saw you coming out of Jimin’s room crying.  

After splashing water on your face and drying it, you take out a cotton pad from one of the glass containers on the counter.  You press it onto your eyes, decreasing the evidence of your current state.  

So much for making Jimin feel safe and comfortable.  You’ve only made it awkward.   

-

With a deep breath, you enter the room.  

Jimin turns his head and puts it in the crook of his arm to look back at you.  “Are you sure you’re okay?  I’m sorry I couldn’t help you…”  

You go over to his shoes and move them under the chair, wincing when you see visible tears on them.  Guess you’re withdrawing a chunk of your savings to pay Park Jimin for damages.  

“I assure you, I’m fine,” you state firmly, but soften, “But I’m really sorry about the shoes; I may have torn them.  I can pay you back.” 

You hear sheets shuffling, and when you face him, Jimin’s fully on one elbow and turned towards you.  “No, please, don’t worry about those.  I should’ve put them out of the way.  I feel bad.”   

“It’s definitely my fault,” you countered, “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Jimin uses your name, which stops you in your tracks.  “Everything’s okay, I promise.”

You should feel many different things, like pride in getting to see this man in person, or happiness from him actually addressing you by name.  But all you can think about in this moment is how disappointing you’ve been to another human being, and you sigh.  

You nod, but still plan to pay him back.  You know enough about designer brands to know those aren’t cheap, and they’re shoes you’ve seen him wearing a lot in photos.  

“It’s okay to lie back down,” you say softly, unmoving.  

Jimin searches your face one more time before settling back face-down on the table.  

It’s a normal day at work, you tell yourself.  Go through your routine.  

Launching yourself into action, you move to the far end of the console table.  Grabbing a bottle you’ve clutched so many times before that its label is wearing down, you uncap it and oil your hands and wrists.  You also unstopper a bottle of lavender oil and pour a few drops into the nearby bamboo diffuser and start it.  

You make your way to the head of the table and grab a rolling stool from a corner of the room.  The wheels on your chair don’t make any noise, which you fixed up yourself.  This day isn’t any different - it’s still silently gliding on the carpet.  Plopping your devastated self onto the cushion, you scoot towards Jimin’s head.  You’re about to place your hands onto his bare shoulders to start, but you whisper,

“It’s also okay if you want to cancel and reschedule with someone else, Mister--Um, Jimin.” 

You can’t believe you just gave Park Jimin a way out of a whole 60 minutes with you.  Where did this conviction and restraint come from?  Is this going to be the regret of your entire lifetime? 

After a long silence, Jimin answers with his face in the headrest, “If you call me Mister Jimin again, then I will.”

You huff out a laugh at his unexpected answer, and your shoulders finally relax.  It seems like he’s still fine after everything that’s happened, and you thank any deity you can think of for this second chance.  

-

Light to medium pressure.  Avoid anything above light pressure around the spinal area and lower back.  Shoulders, calves, and feet are pain points.  Facial area priority. 

You aren’t a fan of light pressure, but you understand why people prefer it.  Not everyone can handle the deep tissue or harder pressure massages. 

Jimin’s shoulders are incredibly tense, though, so you feel bad that you’re limited in what you can do.  You allow some medium pressure to the worst spots, and when you approach the insides of his shoulder blades you lessen the intensity.  

Gliding your fingers back to the ridge between his neck and shoulders, you feel that his right is still tight.  You use your left elbow to work that knot, careful to press even lighter than you would with your hands. 

Jimin grunts, and you still. “Is that too much?”

“No, I like that.”

You keep that in mind as your hands travel over the rest of his upper back area.  From time to time, you reapply the oil to allow for less friction.  It lets your fingers slide deftly across muscles and quickly work any troublesome areas, which Jimin has a lot of.

It makes sense: you can’t even imagine the amount of pressure all of the boys were constantly dealing with.  There was a lull in their activity recently, so you knew something was in the works.  Between recording songs, shooting music videos, fulfilling their brand contracts, and whatever else they do, you’re surprised you don’t feel more knots under Jimin’s skin. 

The soft chords of the next song float around the room, and you lose yourself in your movements.  You can’t see his face, which makes it a lot easier.  You worked through his whole upper body, neck, and upper arms area so naturally that you were admiring his wrist tattoo before remembering who you were massaging.    

For the seven hundredth time that day, you cannot believe this is happening.  You really hope Jimin does feel safe here despite your whirlwind of thoughts.  Have you kept it professional enough?  Neutral enough?  He seemed to be fine with your joking earlier, and he didn’t seem upset about the shoes in the least.  

But still… Maybe he was just tolerating you because it’s the same situation for him, different place and day.  Putting yourself in his shoes, you would feel pity for you trying your best to accommodate him.  The pressure over everyone everywhere you go had to be exhausting.  It couldn’t ever be normal.  

Your shoulders suddenly slump under the weight of what you feel for him.  

And Jimin seems to notice.  “Really, it’s okay about the shoes.  Those were getting pretty worn anyways.” 

You still.  Of course he thought you were still fussing over the shoes and not over his life.  His unending consideration was like a burning hearth: it made you feel so warm.

“Okay,” you respond softly, “I understand.” 

“Good.  If you worry about them again, I’m walking out barefoot,” Jimin says sternly, even though you know he’s kidding.  “And don’t test me, I’ve done it before.” 

Your words leave you before you think.  “I don’t believe you.” 

“Oh?” 

Jimin puts his hands on the table and you yelp, “Okay, okay, stop!” 

He laughs and plops his arms back down flat.  You lament as you still can see how his muscles bulge in your mind.  

You shake your head and sigh before rolling to his left and softly taking his arm.  His skin is so soft you don’t even need the oil, you notice.  You work his forearm before moving down to his wrist and fingers.  Thinking about Jimin’s threat, you are pretty curious.  “Be honest: did that really happen?” 

“It didn’t,” he responds immediately, “But I thought about it once.  My shoes were killing my feet so I thought about walking without them until I found a shoe store.” 

It sounds so childish to you that you chuckle.  “Where was this,” you ask, completely intrigued now.

“Ah, I honestly can’t remember.  I think somewhere in Europe.”

“...Did you just pick an entire continent because you couldn’t remember?”

“...There’s seven continents and one of them is Antarctica!  Picking one out of six is easy.”

This man is something else. You finally finish off his right side, and you gingerly set his arm down on the table.  With a mental pat on the back, you get ready for the next part of the routine.  In your softest therapist voice, you instruct, “Okay, go ahead and turn over and slide down until your head is on the table.”

Jimin obeys right away, shifting over and moving down.  The white sheet slips down his body a bit, and you diligently pull it up until it’s covering everything up to his neck.  During this, you feel rather than see his eyes on you, so you don’t dare yourself to look. 

You go back to your plethora of containers to re-oil, and roll your chair to the foot of the table. All that time, Jimin thankfully has his eyes closed. 

You were equal parts dreading and looking forward to this part of the massage since his face was going to be visible.  This way, you can’t escape the reality of the situation.  

But you decided to follow the flow of the conversation.  You learned the subtle nuances of human communication throughout your experiences: when people wanted to talk or stay quiet, if they were liking the conversation or not, etc. Jimin seems to be fine with talking despite your assumption that he was going to be quiet for the most part.  It has definitely made this easier for you, though. 

“I want to visit all seven continents one day,” you decide to admit. 

“I do, too,” Jimin responds, eyes still closed. “How many do you have left?”

You start on his feet, working along the smooth skin. 

“Uhh, well,” you whisper, “A good chunk. I’ve only been here and back where I’m from, and I just moved here around a year ago.”

After you tell Jimin where you were before, he sounds amazed, “You seem like you’ve lived here for so long. I wouldn’t have guessed.”

He’s definitely being nice.  You are just now getting decent at the language and customs, but there is still a lot you have to learn.

“But, I do want to start traveling again for a specific reason,” you divulge, sighing to yourself as you think yet again about your lofty dreams.

“Which reason is that,” Jimin asks, and you somehow know his eyes are open now. 

Your own eyes betray you as you connect your gaze with his. “I want to experience different techniques in person.” You don’t know he can feel the fire behind your eyes. “There’s no better teacher than experience, at least to me. I know I’m good at what I do currently, but there’s so much out there that I want to learn and get better at.”

You debate whether to keep going or not.  Jimin’s eyes are alight with curiosity, so you take that as your cue. It’s surreal that you get to talk about your dream with him of all people, so you strive to make it count. “Take music, for example: everyone agrees that music is healing, therapeutic.  But, there’s so many genres, so many ways to create it.  I see massage as the same way: therapeutic, but many different ways to make people feel better.” 

Jimin is silent as he tears his gaze from you to look at the ceiling. You concentrate on his ankles, working them as delicately but effectively as you can.  A part of you wants to keep talking, but you don’t want to push it. You may have said too much as it is.

The next song has soft chimes to accompany the rippling chords.  Lavender wafts through the air and quells your nerves.  You continue to Jimin’s lower legs and glide your fingers along the flow of his muscles.  When you feel a break or disturbance, you stop and tend to it until you feel it’s balanced.  After his lower legs are done, you move on to his thighs.  You feel tightness all over, and you apply medium pressure to these areas because of how much muscle they contain.  

Jimin’s legs are a work of art on the outside, but so chaotic on the inside.  The chakra highways are disjointed, and you have worked through so many kinks in the roads.  If you imagine yourself as someone walking down a path, you are stopping every 10 steps to smooth over a pothole or breakdown a hill in the way.  You can’t see how this person can even walk, let alone perform on stage like this.  All of them never cease to amaze you.   

“Where would you start?”

Jimin’s sudden inquiry throws you.  You swear he was silent for a good ten minutes.  “What?” 

His eyes are glued to the ceiling still.  “Which places do you want to visit?  Like, where would you go to learn?” 

“Well…”  You are almost too stunned to speak.  He has been thinking about what you said this whole time?  Aren’t there plenty of more important things he needs to be thinking about right now?  “There’s this technique called amma that originates in Japan, and there’s an American technique called esalen that I want to learn, too.  I think that one is from California.”  

On a high from Park Jimin’s interest in your life, you ramble about a few more, your voice getting more animated the more you talk about different things.  It can’t be helped; you’ve been passionate about traveling and learning for so long.  You’ve just never been able to really try it since money was part of the equation.  Or more so out of the equation.  In addition, you didn’t really get to talk about it with anybody.  No one’s actually asked.  But somehow, Jimin did.  

When you realize you actually stopped massaging his thigh, you look up in horror to apologize, “Oh, I am so sorry - I didn’t mean to stop.” 

Jimin’s head is turned to the side, his hair falling into his eyes.  The smile gracing his face is soft.  “It’s okay,” he assures you, “I feel much better already anyways.” 

Your cheeks flush before he even stops talking.  “That’s good,” you whisper, “We’re almost done so I would hope so.” 

“What!” Jimin’s eyes dart to the clock on the table.  It’s already 8:50am.   

That saddens you a lot more than it should. 

“On second thought: I feel tense in my hand, I think you need to go back and redo it.  Here.”  He’s extending his right hand towards you as if to shake hands, and you laugh.  

“Nice try, Jimin,” you say, “But I do need to work on your face for the last part.  Close your eyes for me, please.” 

He stares at you for a second before obeying.  The smile from earlier makes a return.  

You roll your chair back to the head of the bed and plop down.  Jimin’s face is angelic even upside-down, and you pray to the heavens that you massage it perfectly.  

When you start, you quip, “See?  You’re so happy we’re almost done.” 

“No, no!” Jimin laughs.  “That’s not it.  You just called me Jimin - it was nice.”  

“Oh.”  You swear steam is billowing from your head.  How can he affect you so intensely?  And how were you keeping yourself together?  

With the resolve of a thousand emperors, maybe including one you probably did save in a past life, you steady your hands on his temples.  Rubbing in delicate circles, you start the last segment.  

Face massages are your favorite.  Even the smallest movements are invigorating, and you feel very refreshed after one.      

“When I come back, Spa Concerto, No. 4 better be available.” 

You smile.  There’s no way Jimin will be back, but you appreciate his friendly nature.  

“It’s not even all that great, but I’ll let them know,” you play along. “I’m more of a piano person, though. There’s a lot of piano covers saved in my phone that are way better.” 

Jimin’s eyes flash open at the same time he proclaims, “Ah, I love piano covers!  Especially on rainy days.”

“Mm,” you hum in agreement, “I can listen to those all the time.”

Your heart drops like a stone as you glance at the clock and see your time is up.  The hour absolutely flew by.  Dropping your eyes back onto Jimin’s face, you take your hands off his cheeks and say, “Okay, that’s the end of our session today.” You get up to dry your hands and lower arms with a cloth while going over the last steps, “I’ll leave you to get dressed, and I’ll come back to the room to give you water and some stretch and wellness recommendations moving forward. Just press the green button on the remote when you’re ready, like last time.”

When you turn back to him, Jimin’s fully propped up with his hands behind him. The blanket over him is draped across his body, just enough to cover his ribs.  He’s smiling right at you as he speaks, “Thank you.  You’re really good.” 

You bow in thanks, face lighting up like wildfire. “You were great, too,” you comment in return, immediately cringing inside. “I’ll be back when you’re ready for me.”

-

Right after you leave clients is when you start filling out their evaluation and wellness recommendations on your tablet.  You just worked on them, so the memories are fresh.  The forms are a mix of multiple choice and fill-in, and you recommend some specific stretches and deeper pressure for Jimin. 

This time, Jay is in the employee lounge when you come in to wait.  His legs uncross and he pops up from one of the modern loveseats that are just as firm as they look.  “She’s alive!” 

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the flush in your cheeks.  “I’m here, but barely,” you chuckle, your tablet dangling in your hand by your side, “I still can’t believe that actually happened.”

Jay leans in so that no one can hear what he has to say, which makes you suspicious since there’s no one around you.  In a low voice, he reveals, “Yoon and I made a bet.” 

“Wonderful,” you drawl, “I’m gonna walk away now.”  You can already tell this is one-hundred percent not in your favor.

“No, wait!” His whisper is loud. He bounces after you to the water and food station. While you fix yourself a cup, he continues, “Yoon thinks you’ll get done with the appointment unscathed, but I think you’ll come out of it with a problem.” 

Jay’s words remind you like alarm bells.  

You need to pay Jimin for damages.  

“Oh, shit, I need to get something,” you say in a rush, grabbing your tablet off the food station and scurrying to the locker room.  In the wellness center, the employee lounge is in the back, and the locker room is in the back of the lounge.  You think you still have time before Jimin is ready. 

There’s a notebook you keep in your bag along with a pencil case.  Tearing a sheet from the notebook, you write down what you think is a good estimate for the shoes.  Before you write anything else, you pause.  

You only skimmed through the confidentiality prompts, but you do remember a section about personal information.  Therapists aren’t allowed to give out their personal information unless specifically asked, and there has to be solid intent behind the client asking.  Jimin didn’t need to ask you for yours; he just said not to worry about it. 

After a good thirty seconds of your pen lingering above the paper, your tablet chimes.  

A split second decision has you crumpling the paper and chucking it in your bag.  You tear out a new sheet and tuck it with the pen under your tablet as you head back to Room 3.

-

You get to the room with a paper cup of water you grabbed on the way, and since you have things in both hands it’s a bit difficult getting the door open.  You try the handle but it only jiggles a bit.  One more try has you pushing the door right as the handle gives, and it works.

Jimin goes to you immediately when he sees your hands full, and you almost reel back from having him so close.  Which should be odd, since you were literally just with him for a full hour, and he was not fully clothed.  In the end, his presence alone is enough to affect you no matter the situation. 

You extend the cup to him and he grabs it with a small thank you.  

“I filled out your evaluation and it should be printed at the front already.  Make sure to drink more water after you leave,” you say with a smile, your chest heavy.  This was most likely the last interaction you would ever have with him. 

Jimin nods, his mask covering his smile but not his eyes.  He doesn’t say anything more. 

You almost leave it at that, but something in you doesn’t want this moment to end, so you take your chance. “And, umm,” you stutter as you fumble with the pen and paper.  You just lay your tablet on the massage table to free your hand, and click the pen open.  “How much should I pay you,” you ask, your gaze ironically on the very shoes you tripped over earlier. 

Jimin sets his cup down on the console table before taking the paper and pen from your hands.  You watch him write something - a price in Won most likely - as you explain, “I’m a big believer of making things right, so please let me pay for your shoes.  I should’ve seen them on the ground.”

He folds the paper and hands it back to you with the pen.  “If you insist.  But don’t check this until you get home.” 

“What, why?”  Your eyes dart to his face. 

Jimin stares at you before responding, “Nothing bad. It just might shock you.” 

Immediately, your gaze lowers.  If you tell anyone how your day went today, you would think they were weird if they believed you. If you tell anyone why you’re suddenly broke come this Wednesday, they would be lying if they just went with it.  “Okay, I won’t,” you assure him, and you’re telling the truth.  You are equal parts surprised and nervous that he’s allowing you to pay him back. 

With a deep breath, you give Jimin your best soft smile.  Your heart is hurting as you send him off, “Well, it was a pleasure.  Have a great rest of your day, Jimin.  Until next time.”  You catch yourself in a sea of emotion as your words die on your tongue.  The boys have schedules on schedules, so the likelihood of him stepping foot inside this wellness center again is minuscule at best.    

If anything, you’re grateful that you get to address him by name, and you succeeded in making this as smooth and safe as possible for him.  At the expense of a scraped nose and hand, but rather you than him.  

Jimin hoists his bag on his shoulder, the water cup you gave him already in the trash bin.  He walks right up to you and stands there, and you swear both of you can hear your heart beating.  One of his hands comes up to his masked face, and he speaks softly as he advises, “Ointment will help your nose if it still hurts.” 

Warmth blooms in your chest and cascades all the way to your fingertips.  Mirroring him, you bring a hand up to your nose and nod.  Your words tumble out, “Oh, yes, you’re right.  I can check if we have any in the back.”  

Satisfied, Jimin nods.  “Until next time,” he offers, his eyes creased and warm. 

You smile again and bow slightly.  He puts on his shades before heading out the door frame and into the hall, and you feel emptiness in his wake.  The world is fuzzy around your vision and you are trying so hard to commit everything that just happened to memory.  

Until the doors to front reception close, you watch Jimin’s retreating back.  When the frosted doors close shut, you close your own door to Room 3 and lean against the wooden frame.  The scrap of paper is creased in your hand as you clutch it to your hammering chest.  

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself.  It takes a good minute for you to compose yourself before pushing off the door and getting the room stripped and ready for the next session.  The whole time, you replay everything in your head.  

Jimin was just as nice as you have seen him through the lens of cameras.  If that was the case, all of them had to be the same way.  You are proud to like these wonderful people.  

You’re so happy you got to actually spend all this time with him, but that just magnifies the sadness you feel when it’s over. 

-

The room is done and cleaned up, and you go through the rest of the day on autopilot.  Not even Jay’s constant teasing could free you from your euphoria-numbed state.  The only thing that throws you back into focus is Yoon, and it happens at the very end of the work day.  

You push open the doors to front reception, and smile big at your friend behind the counter.  She’s beaming right back at you, and she puts her chin in her hand and shakes her head. 

“That must’ve been one hell of a message,” she says through a barely contained smile.  

Your hand flies to your forehead and you nod.  “I can’t believe that happened, Yoon.  I mean, it was really him.  Opportunity of a lifetime… I just hope he enjoyed the whole thing.” 

“You could say that,” she chuckles, “Enough to book you again, at least.” 

What?

“He did?” Your breath leaves you in a rush.  “If you’re joking with me, I’ll--” 

“--He did.  It’s not for a long time, but he asked for you specifically.”  Yoon gathers papers in her hand and starts to organize them in the containers behind her.  “You really piss me off, you know that?” 

“Love you, too,” you whisper, your head completely above the clouds.  You grab your phone and start checking your schedule from the wellness center app you have installed.  Grabbing the door handle, you absentmindedly wave back to Yoon and call out, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”  

The sun emits a golden glow at this hour, and the glass buildings along the street bask in its shine.  You head towards your bus stop while skimming your calendar for Jimin’s next appointment, but you’re already four months out and see nothing.  Not losing hope, you keep going and see a booking six months in advance.  Your heartbeat skips as you click on the appointment, and almost skids to a halt when you see his name written down.

-

As soon as you enter your small apartment, you head straight to your bed and drop your bag on the comforter.  Your whole body bounces as you plop yourself down next, and you stare straight at the ceiling.  

Your life is still normal, right?  Sure, you were able to spend an entire hour with Park Jimin, but that didn’t mean you aren’t still completely and utterly average.  

You close your eyes and go back to Room 3.  The scent of lavender fills your nostrils and you can still see his number tattoo as plain as day as you massage his wrist.  

In all honesty, it still feels like a fever dream.  That was someone else’s life you were able to live, someone else there with Jimin and you just decided to hitch along for the ride.  

But that was real, and so is the amount of money you still need to withdraw from your bank account.  

With a sigh, you reach into your bag and take out the piece of paper.  You were dreading this moment all day since he left.  Unfolding it, you prepare for the worst. 

But all you can do is stare.  

Jimin didn’t write down a price at all. 

Your name is at the top, and the rest is as follows:

Save your money for traveling and learning new things, not on me. I can’t wait to see what you’ve learned when we meet again.

-

-

a/n: thank you for reading! if you guys have any comments or feedback, please feel free to let me know!

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Blackened Bond (Ch 17)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood, Death, Gore, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Japanese Mythical Folklore, No Major Character Death, !Character Suicide!

Previous Chapter: Non-Standard

Next Chapter: 百鬼夜行 - Hyakki Yakou

Word Count: 3k

Tags: Kamo Noritoshi x Reader, Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife @lordguameow @track5enthusiast @nayydoesthings @a1hina

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, and specify if you're okay with NSFW posts or not, please mention it in the comments below ty ❤

Extra Notes: PLEASE CHECK THE TAGS!!! This is one very loaded Chapter. Some might get triggered over the graphic depictions of violence. This is close to a bit of gore.

Chapter 17: Inferno: Flames of Hell

You wake up in the infirmary. Hiroki had healed you beforehand. You abruptly sat up, looking around the room, before finding him, cleaning some medical tools. “Thanks Niichan.” He smiled as he came over to hug you and messed up your hair.

“It’s okay. I didn't think Satoru would push you this hard. He’s a good teacher for you, much as I hate to call him a good teacher. Did you consider going to Tokyo Jujutsu Tech instead? You could’ve gone ya know, we wouldn’t hold you back.”

You mulled it over. “I think I’m staying here. I’ve settled in and everyone around me is amazing. They’re like a second family to me.”

He smiled before looking a bit annoyed. “Yeah well, glad you like them at least. Someone’s been waiting all this time for you. Rude if I don’t let him see ya, right sis?”

Hiroki walked over to the door and opened it, revealing Noritoshi with one hand up as if to knock.

Your mouth opened and closed.

“Y/n.” He was still so determined. What makes him have so much faith in you? You looked back to Hiroki, but he only gave you his trademark "Get your shit together" look and waved you off.

You walked up to Noritoshi by the doorway, and he stood back to let you through. You both ended walking quietly side by side in the hallway.

Noritoshi smiled, you didn’t run away from him for once.

"Y/n, can we… talk if you're up for it?" He asked quietly, a small sad smile on his face.

You took a deep breath, turned to face him and were thrown into a vision.

◇◇◇

"They've found us, run for it, love." Hotaru dragged you away from the small inn you were both staying at.

You stumbled after him and ran off. A member of the Abe clan had seen the both of you in the midst of fighting curses at an abandoned shrine. They tried to chase the both of you down, but you both fought back and ran further away until they’ve lost sight of you.

But currently, you are facing a much larger problem. A shadow in the distance. Just the silhouette of the curse was enough to etch despair deep in your bones.

With four large arms, two faces and a gigantic body, Ryomen Sukuna could be identified easily. You grabbed onto Hotaru and tried to push you both forward with your technique.

"Uraume. After them. I've heard rumours about a fated pair. It seems as if they are the ones." Sukuna smirked.

"As you wish." Uraume quickly caught up to the both of you.

They quickly froze your escape path, sealing you both in a circle of ice. Hotaru held you as you activated Inferno to break the ice and continued running. You were both dangerously running low on cursed energy. Especially as Hotaru had just fought over a dozen of curses.

"Hooh?? The woman does have power. I want her." Sukuna's eyes lit up madly. He shot a flaming arrow, forcing you to push Hotaru behind you.

Sukuna focused and slashed both Hotaru from behind. Uraume shot shards of ice towards you, but Hotaru shifted your positions.

You watched in horror as your lover took the attack for you. He was bleeding profusely and even his technique couldn’t help him from anemia.

“No no no no no, stay with me.” You screamed at him.

“Misaki, my love, for you I’d burn down the world, travel across thousands of miles, and kill anyone who tried to hurt you. I love you and I’m sorry we can’t be together much longer.” He teared up while cupping the side of your cheek.

“No, don’t go.” You leaned down to press your lips against his, trying to give him a bit of air. But it wasn’t enough. His hand fell limp and he breathed his last. Kamo Hotaru died in your arms.

"Hotaru, no." You sobbed out painfully, hugging his cold body to your chest.

"The talk of the town huh? You must be the soulmate pair judging by the marks on your hands." Sukuna stepped up with Uraume right behind him.

He was a terrifying sight upclose.

You froze as he knelt down and lifted your chin, "What a beauty you are. I wouldn't mind playing with you for a while and having you all to myself, before eating you up." He licked his lips lavisciously.

"So young, and such soft skin." Sukuna's hand trailed down your cheek and squeezed along the curves of your trembling body.

You never felt more dirty in your life. A man other than your lover, touching you like this. "Be my toy, would you? Your lover is dead after all. Why not humor me?" Sukuna jeered. He didn’t care about your silent sobs, even relishing in how you looked right now.

Utterly destroyed. With a monster claiming he wants you for himself.

He grabbed your chin roughly and forced a kiss on your lips. You snapped out of your shock, feeling your anger overcome your fear.

‘I'd rather die than let him have me.'

And so, you pushed Sukuna and Uraume far away and built a solid air barrier around you and Hotaru.

You thrust a hand out and an oil lamp came flying your way. It broke in front of you. Inferno was activated to spread the flames quickly. 'We are meant to stay together, my love, even if it means death.' You quickly slit your throat with a harsh cut, not wanting to die a slow death in the flames.

You choked out blood as Sukuna came near. He shattered your barrier easily with Dismantle, reaching for you. You panicked. You weren't going to die in time.

And you did the craziest thing you could think of. Activating Niflheim simultaneously with Inferno. Freezing everything around you, except for the still burning flames consuming you and Hotaru.

It didn't help too much. Sukuna produced flames out of his hand, while Uraume easily manipulated the frost.

Lightning shot out of your hands dangerously in your confusion. You don't know what you just did. But it didn't matter. You were quickly losing consciousness.

Crimson splattered onto the ground and over Hotaru’s corpse. You burned past the limits of your cursed energy, releasing bolts of lightning.

Sukuna’s hand reached out and activated his reverse cursed technique on you. “Not so fast.” He looked angry.

He was able to seal the cut, but with the last of your energy, you used Inferno on your body, bursting into flame before Sukuna and Uraume.

They were forced to back away and stared as you and Hotaru both turned to ash, the heat an insane temperature they couldn’t approach.

Sukuna threw his head back and cackled, "The lengths people go to for love. What fools Jujutsu sorcerers are!"

◇◇◇

The vision ends. You and Noritoshi gasp harshly. The hallway is covered in ice.

You slowly realized you unconsciously activated Niflheim. You swiped your palm through the air. All the windows along the hallway simultaneously opened.

The vision was far too vivid.

You covered your throat with your hands as though to stop a wound from opening, remembering how the dagger dragged through your neck bones. The flames felt painful as they ate at your body without your cursed technique protecting you from them.

Noritoshi kneeled down and touched his gut. He felt the poison of Sukuna's slash and Uraume's ice eat his body. After his past soul had died. Hotaru's spirit watched the events transpire from above you. So he was able to see it from a 3rd person's point of view.

How Sukuna had wanted you. How you ended your life for him.

You staggered back from Noritoshi, face as white as a sheet, running for the bathroom with bile rising up your throat.

That vision was eerily reminiscent of how Sora-nee died in your arms. You were on the borderline of hyperventilating.

Noritoshi ran after you, “Wait!”. You stumbled into the girl’s bathroom, opened a cubicle door and vomited everything out into the toilet.

The sounds of retching were loud even from outside. Noritoshi halted in his tracks when he saw that you’ve gone into the ladies room.

Fuck manners. If it was to take care of you, he doesn’t care about being gentlemanly or if he was called a pervert. He rushed in, wrapped his arms around you, pulled back your hair and rubbed soothing circles on your stomach.

You were vomiting pretty hard, to the point where it hurt your abdomen. “My dear angel, shhhh it's okay, I'm here.” You continued heaving and reached back with one hand to push him away. But Noritoshi was incredibly stubborn, not letting go of you.

“Noritoshi I literally smell like shit, please leave.”

“Nope. I don't care. I will take care of you. As your soulmate I’m responsible for you.”

Your eye twitched at that.

Both of you were still trembling from the aftermath of the vision. How terrible and cursed it was, that past life.

You closed the lid, flushed the toilet, then lifted it again. You leaned over with heavy breaths, but it looks like you’re done puking. Noritoshi just sat behind you, his hands stroking your belly, keeping your body warm.

It was nice. But he’s not yours anymore. It was only then you felt something wet on your shoulder. Noritoshi was crying.

“It almost… felt like I just lost you… My darling...” loud hitches of breath echoed in the bathroom.

You froze, not knowing how to comfort him at a time like this. You patted his head, and he leaned into your hand.

Even as you close your eyes, the images keep racing through the back of your eyelids. Flames. Blood. Lightning. Hotaru.

“I need to wash up in the sink.”

Noritoshi gave a soft grunt in reply, arms tightening around your waist. You stood up and half dragged him out of the cubicle. He never lets go. His arm is still around your waist, making you half waddle around the bathroom with him like a penguin with its child.

You brush your teeth with the spare toothbrush Jujutsu High has for its guests and rinse your mouth with several cups of mouthwash, the strong scent of mint hanging in the air. You spat it all out, but you still felt nauseous.

You turned and wiped away his tears with your sleeve. He bent down and tucked you under his chin, breathing in your scent. You were both alive. It was fine.

You pulled back when the door slammed open. It was Momo and Mai.

“......”

“.....”

The four of you had a stare off before realizing Noritoshi wasn’t supposed to be in there.

“Kamo kun, you’re in the wrong bathroom. Have you dumbed down so much you’ve forgotten?” Momo asked with wide eyes.

Mai stared at you and noticed how sick you looked. You just shook your head at her and quickly walked out of the bathroom, shrugging Noritoshi’s hand off of you.

'To hell with all this.', you thought to yourself

◇◇◇

"Wait!"

Noritoshi caught up to you in the hallway, grabbed your hand and turned you around to face him. He stopped caring about where he was.

"I'm never giving up on you. I won't, because I love you and I know that now."

You sniffed hard, tears running down your cheeks. You've had enough of this confusion. If you're being truthful to yourself, you missed him.

You missed Noritoshi and his kind words. His touch and his kisses. His soft bits of encouragement and picnic dates.

You want him back. It was just as Hiroki had said, you were pushing Noritoshi away without giving him a chance to explain himself.

But the vision completely broke you. You pulled your hand away, "Don't touch me. Don't follow me. Don't come near me." You whispered.

Noritoshi swallowed hard. "Why won't you let me explain myself?" But you just shook your head.

"Maybe we weren't what we thought we were." You didn't mean it, but you still forced the words out painfully.

Noritoshi flinched, "Why would you say that? You believed in us. I still believe in us. In you."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, "That vision. Why did we have it? We could be dooming ourselves by staying together, Noritoshi, I can't do that to you. Maybe I am cursed to hurt the ones I love."

He scoffed. "Preposterous. They are our past lives, but they aren't us. We are different people with different choices. You’re not cursed Y/N, since when have you become so narrow minded?"

You stiffened. "Maybe I have always been so. I'm just tired of everything now. Plus I need to take down that damn curse, even if it kills me." You spun on your heel.

Something inside Noritoshi snapped. He now understands how it feels to be pushed away like an outsider. He grabbed your wrist, ignoring your angry whispers as he single-handedly dragged you back into his room.

This man was strong. Not even your hardest tugs threw him off balance. He slammed the door shut once you were both inside and you felt a bit shaken, not having any place to run.

"Why are you trying to do this all by yourself?! You may be a Special Grade Sorcerer, but that doesn't mean you're invincible! A war is not won by one person. Can't you trust me?" He hissed.

"Trust you? Trust you?! How about me? Big words from someone who didn't even want to let me meet or know the people he holds dear to him."

This was the most idiotic argument you had in your life. You didn't even mean half the words that you were saying. Just wanting to win a pointless argument you wished never existed in the first place.

"I thought you agreed to speak to me if that was still bothering you. You said we would work things out together." Noritoshi shook your shoulders.

You held your tongue not knowing what else to say. Noritoshi was still so sweet after all this mess. Pulling you into a warm embrace, patting your head as he cries into your shoulder.

"Will you stay with me at least? During the war.”

"Of course." You didn't even think as you agreed. Even Noritoshi looked surprised at your lack of reluctance. "I won't lose you."

You both stood awkwardly there, not knowing what to do. Noritoshi didn't want you to leave yet, wanting to bask a bit more in your presence. His mark cooled down as his hand slipped into yours.

But you stepped and turned away from him, ignoring how his fingers desperately clung onto the hem of your shirt. "I'll go then… Don’t want to intrude... "

"Would you like to stay for dinner and talk?" He called out hopefully.

"Thank you for the offer, but I'll be with Hiro-nii in my room." You purse your lips.

"I love you." He said once more. There was no room for hesitation in his voice.

You paused, temples throbbing heavily from the onset of a headache. Too many thoughts raced through your head and not all of them were good.

"I don't know what you heard the other day, but I will never take in any concubines. You're my one and only, Angel."

You only half believed him right now, his words going in one ear and leaving through the other. ‘People can lie. He is capable of lying.’ your shitty brain just makes every situation sound worse each time. This type of negative line of thinking was so unhealthy.

He must have understood your thoughts.

"My love please," he's begging you now. You turn to him, face full of confusion and hurt. You opened your mouth, and thought better.

This wasn't the best time to run your thoughts.

"I’m sorry for being in a really bad headspace right now. Are you willing to wait for me?" This time it was you who asked him this. Noritoshi studied your face before nodding. “That’s okay. As you have with me, I will do the same with you.”

You sucked a deep breath, eyes watering. “I’m scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared, we are just kids. We aren’t supposed to bear the weight of saving a nation this early on.”

“I don’t want to lose anyone anymore.”

“You won’t. We won’t.”

“I’m sorry for being such a pain. I know we need to talk about all of this, eventually.” You couldn’t help the whimpers that came out of your mouth.

“I love every bit of you. Even if you're like this… No... Because I understand how you feel. You have a right to be angry, because I held back a lot of things from you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss you or love you.” He carefully put out a palm facing up, allowing you to make a choice. You slowly put your hand over his.

“For real?” you whispered so quietly, he had to strain his ears to hear you.

“For real. Since when have I lied to you?”

‘Not once.’ you numbly thought.

Who knew a man could be so delicate. He held your hand lightly, not daring to squeeze it. Just a sign of openness and faith. He lowered his head towards you, eyes hooded.

You shivered as his lips brushed against the back of your hand. Soft, warm and plush. Like the first time he kissed you on the cheek. Shaky yet loving.

"Get some rest then, good night." You left the room.

He wondered if you still loved him now. Gone were the nights you soundly slept in his arms. He could barely pull himself together as he readied himself for dinner and bed.

Back in your room, you sobbed into your pillow. It hurts so much, because your faith in Noritoshi isn’t what it used to be. You wish for yourself to trust him like you did before. It’s frustrating.

There are times you wish you never heard that conversation. But that means staying ignorant to his familial affairs which won't do you any good in the long run.

Love is painful. Love feels like you've filled your lungs with water and you can't breathe. Sometimes it's like that icy inhale of the cold morning air on the winter solstice.

But it also keeps you going. The warmth of being in Noritoshi's arms earlier was more than enough to convince you to stay.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

[lis-likes-fics]

Intoxicated

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x Reader Word Count: 7,877 words. JFC. I know, I know Warnings: Alcohol use, drug use, accidental overdose, and a lot of angst. Author’s Note: Okay.... I know. I got a little bit carried away again. Bite me. This is part two of Concussed. I’m super happy with it.

~~~~~

Y/N sighed as she stepped out of her car. Carlisle gave it to her after the accident, her car had exploded after the wreck. She didn't think Jacob would be able to fix that.

She just came back from her day at work at the Carver Café. She'd already graduated and decided to get a job for the money, but mostly just to keep her busy during the day when Carlisle was at work.

She locked the car and walked up to her door, digging in her bag for her keys while moving a strand of hair from her face. When her hands wrapped around the keys, she unlocked her door and walked inside, kicking off her shoes while closing the door behind her.

She set her bag on the table, picking up her phone to call Carlisle after her long day of work. The phone rang a few times as she waited, taking the dollar bills and loose change from her bag and moving it to her money jars.

When the phone didn't pick up, she furrowed her brow and called again. He never missed a call.

When the phone didn't pick up the second time, she started to get worried. She walked to her kitchen, stopping at the door as she looked at the counter. There was a paper, a letter.

She eyed it, wondering what the letter could have said. She saw the flawless signature at the bottom, Carlisle.

Why didn't he call or tell her in person?

She picked up the note and read it carefully:

"My dearest, Y/N,

There are no words to express the gratitude I feel in my heart because our hearts have come to dwell together as one. You are my life, my heart, my soul. You are my one true love. The day we met was fate. You are my destiny. I love you more today than I did yesterday, and I will love you more tomorrow than I do today. Loving you is the only thing that makes my life worth living now.

I love you and I always will until my existence may come to an end. I want to hold you in my arms and tell you how much I love you and how much you really mean to me.

You gave me comfort and confidence where there was doubt. I want to be there when you need to talk. I want to be the comfort for your soul. I want to love you in the way you deserve to be loved. I need you to be a part of my life. All the things that I told you about how I felt and how you make me feel were true.

But I can't be here for you without putting you in danger. You are my love, my life, my heart, my soul, and my everything. If I were to be the reason you get hurt, or worse, I would never be able to forgive myself.

So my family and I are leaving. In time, I hope you are able to move on and find someone who makes you feel whole, who makes you feel better than I ever could. You are a strong woman, so you don't need me. I know that you have the strength to pull through this so you can live a full, happy, and safe life.

I'm sorry for any pain I have ever caused you, I'm sorry for any pain I may cause you. I love you, and I will always love you.

Goodbye, my love.

Forever yours, Carlisle."

Her brain worked to process the letter, trying to let the words sink in. When they did, they hit her hard. It was worse than the car crash, the pain sinking into her body, followed by a cry.

Her legs came out from under her, unable to hold her up and support her. Tears sprang to her eyes and were instantly free falling. A strangled cry left her throat and she dropped the note.

Her head was buried in her legs. She didn't know how long she was there crying. The pain blinded and deafened her. All she could hear was his voice repeating "We're leaving."

Her whole being hurt, she felt her heart being torn in two.

He called her strong. He said she would be able to move on, in time.

He must have not realized just how self-destructive she was. He had become her life and he was leaving her. How could she move on from that?

"I don't want to lose you." Those were the words he told her that same night. Why was he leaving her without those words hanging in the air?

Why would he leave her?

~

Months had passed. Y/N was a wreck. She attempted going to the Cullen's house to see if it was some sick joke, but she could bring herself to go. She couldn't face the emptiness of that place.

She tried to check up on Bella, but she decided against it. Her mental health was crumbling, she would never be able to help Bella.

Y/N focused on work at the diner. Everyone noticed how lifeless she had become in such a short period of time. She was visibly deteriorating.

When she wasn't at the diner working herself to death, taking double shifts, triple shifts, quadruple shifts to keep her distracted, she was at her home with a bottle of something strong.

Since she lived next to the Chief, she was one of the people in town who people usually knew. Charlie had some sort of guardian responsibility over her after her grandfather died, people knew her.

Because of this, she had to drive all the way to Port Angeles to get her bottles of sweet drunkenness. The longer she was sober, the longer she had to deal with thinking of him.

She didn't want to think of him. Thinking of him meant thinking of him leaving her. Which led to some eternal outlet that would lead to the end of her existence.

She didn't like thinking of him.

If he would just come back to her, she would finally be okay. All she needed was for him to come back.

But that would never happen. He left, he's gone.

Y/N plopped down on her couch, a glass in her hand and a bottle sitting on the table for her refill. She searched through the TV to find something to watch. There had to be something to distract her, something to watch drunk. She knew better after learning from her mistake the first time she got drunk with the door unlocked and her keys in hand.

It was a long day of waiting for her bus back home. She had no idea how she wound up in Montana, but she did.

There was a knock on her door and she groaned loudly, hiding the alcohol in the cabinet under the kitchen sink, putting the jug of dish soap in front of it.

There was another knock on the door and she spoke in the clearest voice she could manage, "I'm coming."

She sighed and grabbed a bottle of water and a mint before opening the door. Bella stood on the other side, bags under her eyes from her lack of sleep and that spark she used to hold gone. Y/N was surprised to see her out of her house or school, she wasn't really active these days.

"Hey, Y/N. Sorry to come over like this," she said, looking at her.

Y/N shook her head, "No problem. Come in."

"Thanks," Bella mumbled as she walked into the house. Y/N scratched her head before closing the door, seeing Bella standing awkwardly in the world.

"Please, sit down," she told her, having a seat herself on her couch.

Bella took the offer, sitting in the chair next to the couch. Y/N asked hesitantly, "How are you holding up?"

Bella chuckled humorlessly, "I don't really want to talk about that."

"Yeah," Y/N muttered, "Me, neither." She stood with a sigh, headed to the kitchen to get a snack or something. "How are your nightmares?" Y/N asked, tripping slightly when she got to the threshold of the kitchen. She muttered a curse word under her breath.

"Are you okay?" Bella asked, concerned about the slip up. Y/N nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine." Despite her best efforts, the slight slur in her tone had managed to escape as she grabbed a bag of chips and poured it in a bowl, taking it back to the living room.

She sat back down on the couch and Bella nodded strangely, "My nightmares are…just the same as they usually are."

Y/N sighed, "Yeah, Charlie tells me sometimes. Says he's wearied- worried about you. Wants me to try and help but… if it's anything like me… I won't be able to."

Bella furrowed her brows, looking at her closer. Bella blinked and shook her head, "Y/N, are you...drunk?"

Y/N looked at her, shaking her head quickly, "What? No! No, I'm not-I'm not drunk. I'm fine… I'm perfectly…completely…fine."

She looked down at a small dog figurine on the table to distract her before looking up to meet Bella's gaze. Tears began to make their way to her eyes, one managing to slip as her lip quivered slightly. She sighed and nodded slowly, "Yeah. I'm… a mess."

She couldn't stop the tears now, so she opted to ignore them. A downside to her being drunk was the spontaneous decision to either be void of emotion or ambushed with it. She always either ended up crying herself to sleep or staying up almost all night long before passing out with an hour of sleep under her belt.

She wiped a tear away, "I don't know what to do. Sobriety makes me think of him and I don't want to do that…"

Bella understood, nodding her slowly as she turned away, her own eyes filling with tears as she sympathized her pain with her own.

"I don't have anyone. My parents are dead, my grandfather is dead. I don't have any other family and I'm here alone," Y/N shook her head, sniffling and turning away from Bella completely.

Bella was always easy to talk to. She didn't judge, she didn't criticize. She would sit and listen and just be there, as a friend should.

Bella nodded, "For what it's worth, you'll always have Charlie and me."

Y/N took in those words. Charlie was always right next door when she needed him, no matter how little that was. He was there, his door was always open. Bella knew the same things Y/N did, so they could empathize with each other. They'd become somewhat family to her.

She just wished she could have her life back. He left with that.

"Thanks, Bells," Y/N told her gently. She looked around her house before her eyes landed on Bella again as she wiped her face, "Uh, can we keep this under wrap? No one in town knows and I want to keep it that way."

Bella nodded, "Won't tell a soul."

"Thanks."

For quite a while that night, the two allowed each other company and open ears. It was nice to have someone who knew, someone who knew.

No one else knew about her relationship with him. She was just out of high school, it would be strange if they got together when he was supposed to be in his late twenties to early thirties, at least to the humans.

Y/N fell asleep sometime after Bella had. It was late and they were both tired, Y/N especially.

When Bella started screaming in her sleep, Y/N bolted up quickly, easing her awake and telling her she was dreaming. Bella apologized heavily and Y/N told her not to worry. She found herself having nightmares of her own some nights.

Bella went back home after she'd woken up and Y/N poured herself a glass before trying to catch sleep of her own.

She went to her bed after cleaning up and was able to pass out from exhaustion. When she dreamt, she couldn't tell how much she wanted to.

Her dreams were the same for months.

~

"Y/N," her name was called by a voice she never thought she would hear again. She looked around in search of the angelic voice she had missed so much, "Where are you?"

She ran, searching frantically. She couldn't find him, he wasn't anywhere in reach. All she could hear was her name being whispered, as if carried in the wind.

"Where are you? Please!" She called, desperate to see her love again. She needed him, she couldn't go on without him.

"Please! Carlisle, come back!" She called, the name falling off her lips like both honey and poison. She couldn't tell which one. It was a bittersweet taste that drove her mad to think about.

"Please!" She cried, "I need you!"

"Y/N," his voice was closer now. She turned to see him, afraid that, if she wasted time, he would be gone again.

Her breath caught in her throat, but she didn't feel any different. When she saw his face, it was somehow paler than it normally was. His eyes were dark and tired, his hair was a mess. She stared at him in shock.

She reached a hand out to touch him. But just as her hand touched his cheek, he was gone.

"No, Carlisle!" She yelled, panting as she woke in a cold sweat. Tears covered her face and sweat covered her body.

She bent over and sobbed, her face buried in her knees as she let out the pain she was feeling that curled in her chest like a snake coiled around its prey. Pain filled her head as her headache ripped through her with a vengeance from both the drunkenness and the tears.

It was hard to breathe through her tears when everything hurt so much. It felt like she was being ripped open from the inside. Saying his name out loud only brought back to memories she worked so hard to drown out with alcohol.

Her eyes were red and puffy from crying so much. Her throat hurt from sobbing. She stood and headed downstairs, pushing past her bottles of dish soap to grab the alcohol bottle waiting for her.

She wished he would just come back to her. She wished he would bring back her heart, be with her again so she could stop hurting. Y/N just wanted him back.

~

Weeks past since this, she was no better. No one thought she would be. She dragged herself to her kitchen for a drink and something to eat.

Her hands grabbed at air as she dug through the cabinet under the sink and she sighed heavily. Y/N turned regrettably, her last bottle was in the trash. She'd finished it last night.

Y/N groaned loudly and stood, replacing her drink with water. She checked her phone, she had the day off of work. So no work to distract herself.

She knew she would be heading out of town today, so she made a checklist of things she would need.

Dinner. She needed food, her fridge was empty. She worked so late that she forgot to go to the store. She sniffed and sighed, she'd go later on today.

She also needed to do her laundry before it piled up. She would do that first and head into the city when that was finished.

The day was long and sober. She couldn't escape her own thoughts as she was left thinking of him with every move.

She hadn't seen Bella lately. All she knew was that she was hanging out on the reservation quite a lot with Jacob. She wondered if that's where she was right now. She especially hadn't seen Bella in the past couple of days.

Y/N would have joined her on the Rez with Jacob, but she thought it best not to. Bella needed this. She seemed better with Jacob around.

When the clothes were folded and put away and the laundry was all done, she headed out. She was running out of tolerance with sobriety.

The drive was about an hour as she came up on the grocery store. After the quick run, she went to the liquor store she always visited for her drinks.

"Ran out again?" The clerk asked as he checked her. She nodded, "Yep, I'm glad you've got me."

"Always do," he chuckled lightly before she paid and left. She went to her car, her bags on her arms as she sighed heavily.

"Psst," she turned around and saw a woman leaning against the side of the building. The woman gave a smile and asked, "Is the liquor satisfying you?"

She raised a brow and just stared back at the woman. She shrugged lightly, "I can give you something stronger. I've seen you around here a couple times a month, for the past six."

Y/N sighed, "I don't want what you're selling. I'm sad, not suicidal."

She laughed, "This stuff won't kill you, it'll just make you feel good. First time I tried it, I had a good time doing it. It'll make you feel real happy."

Y/N bit her lip and thought for a moment. She actually thought about it. She promised herself she wouldn't do anything worse than liquor, but even the liquor was losing its touch. She sighed, "What is it?"

"Just the happy stuff, give it a special name and you get cops on your back. It's nothing you need a needle for, if that's what you're worried about."

That was good. She hated needles. She bit down on her lip before asking, "Normally, it's two hundred."

Y/N's eyes widened slightly. The woman smirked, "But I'll make it one if I can have the best thing you got in there." She motioned to her bag and Y/N thought some more.

She nodded and grabbed her wallet, taking out the two fifties she had. She thought about it a little more, this was a big decision.

But she was too far gone to care. She sighed and handed it over, along with her best bottle, "Here."

The woman smiled and dug in her bag, pulling out a tiny baggy that held a large pill. Y/N grabbed it and put it in her pocket before turning to leave before she made any more big mistakes.

"Have fun," she said as she popped open the bottle.

Y/N got in her car and drove back home. Quickly unloading her food and liquor, she put everything up. She locked the door behind her as usual, grabbing a bottle and pouring herself a couple glasses.

She had completely forgotten about the pill in her pocket until she changed into short shorts and a t-shirt, the baggy falling out of the pocket.

She looked down at the pill, putting a little more thought into it. Unfortunately, it was hard to think. She was already drunk, she got better at downing her liquor with each cup.

But that's why she bought it, wasn't it?

She picked up the pill and sighed, putting it on her tongue and swallowing it, following it with liquor.

The pill worked quickly. At first, she could see how the pill made you feel "happy". She was dancing around her house, tripping over things and enjoying herself.

Then her pulse sped up and she felt nauseous, but she couldn't feel herself puking. Nothing was coming up, she only had the feeling.

When her energy went down dramatically, so did her pulse. She bumped into the table in the living room and tripped slightly.

She got back to her feet, her vision blurry. She was sweating like crazy and she felt horrible. Then she tripped behind the couch, her head fuzzy and her body numb.

Her mouth started foaming a little, her vision fading in and out. She didn't know when she passed out, but she did. She kept coming back to consciousness, but it was hard to feel. Her body hurt, but she couldn't move.

The door opened at some point as her eyes opened lazily. She couldn't see anything, she still had foam coming out of her mouth. It tasted disgusting.

She tried to make a sound or move, but she couldn't. She heard the footsteps but her eyes closed again and she faded out.

~

The door swung open and his eyes widened as he saw Y/N laying behind the couch, foaming at the mouth.

"Y/N!" He exclaimed, kneeling beside her as he tried to listen closely to her heartbeat. It was slow, too slow. If he could cry, he would have.

He placed his cool hand on her cheek, "Y/N, love, wake up. Please."

He looked up and rushed to her bathroom, searching through her cabinet in search of something to use. When he found the activated charcoal, he sighed in relief and snatched it.

He paused when she saw the antidepressants sitting next to it. It was mostly untouched, it didn't seem like it'd been used in months. She'd given up on them.

He frowned and swallowed hard before heading back downstairs to her. He opened her mouth and put one of the pills in her mouth, following it with water to get her to swallow it.

"Come on," he muttered to himself, "Swallow it. Please, take it."

She managed a small noise as she tried to mumble, but her lips barely moved. When he saw her swallow the pill, he nodded and sat her up against his chest.

"Come on," he said, "You'll be okay. It's okay." He picked her up and set her on the couch, her head propped up on a pillow. "You'll be okay," he told her, his face was pained as he watched her.

He stayed with her, giving her a little bit of water at a time after wiping her mouth of the foam and sweat.

He could hear her heartbeat return to normal, the sweat died down and he laid a blanket over her. He sighed with much relief as she slept. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. This wasn't supposed to happen.

He looked around the house, the house he'd missed walking into. He saw the bottle of liquor and the cup on the table and frowned.

He turned to the kitchen, the fridge had food in it, but it wasn't as full as it needed to be. He sniffed the air and bent down in front of the sink, opening the cabinet to see the fresh bottles hiding behind the soap.

He sighed again, wiping his face before glancing back at her sleeping on the couch. He wandered around the home, trying to see what all was different. He went back to the bathroom to put the charcoal pills back in it. He picked up the bottle of antidepressants, looking at the date written on it.

It was sometime after he'd left.

After a while, he'd heard her scrambling downstairs, followed by a retching sound as she puked. He rushed downstairs to her, taking her hair in his hands to move it out of the way.

She jumped slightly at the touch but was too caught up in throwing up. When she was finished, she collapsed on the floor next to the trash, wiping her face.

He knelt in front of her, not sure if he should offer her a smile or a sad look. He gave her a sad smile to even it out.

Y/N blinked at him and muttered quietly, she was in shock and disbelief, saying his name still hurt. This was some illusion, he wasn't coming back.

"Carlisle?" She spoke, her voice wavering as she ready had tears welling in her eyes at saying the name and seeing him.

"Y/N," Carlisle sighed, reaching his hands out to touch her, "What happened to you? Why would yo-"

She cut him off, standing up as she flinched away from him. She thought him coming back would make everything better. She thought she would throw herself into his arms and tell him how much she missed him.

But she was just pissed.

"What the hell?!" She yelled, moving away from him, her eyes burning in anger.

Carlisle watched her, silently getting back to his feet. She stared at him, her eyes brimming with tears, her voice wavering drastically.

"You leave me here alone and then show up after six months with no explanation? I thought you were never coming back! I spent weeks trying to convince myself that you would return and then it turned into months and I lost all hope of ever seeing you again," she sobbed.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I was trying to keep you sa-"

"Keep me safe?" She scoffed, "That's not an excuse, Carlisle. I wish it was, but it isn't." She shook her head and another round of sobs left her, shaking through her violently.

Carlisle hated seeing her cry like this, he hated seeing her so broken. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"You left me here alone. I didn't think you would ever come back. I thought I meant nothing to you."

He tried again, "Y/N-"

"I'm not finished," she told her. She hadn't raised her voice, she had strained it by crying and she knew she wouldn't have to raise it to stop him. He would listen to her.

"I thought you loved me. That's what you told me," she shook her head before allowing herself to look up at him.

"I do love you," Carlisle told her quickly. He couldn't bear the thought of her not knowing that he loved her.

"Then why did you leave?" The room fell silent as she stared him down. He looked away from her, he couldn't take the look in her eyes as she stared at him. They were heartbroken, beaten, she looked hopeless and broken. She continued, "You could have brought me with you, or just stayed. You hurt me, Carlisle. You were supposed to protect me, but I needed protection from myself and you weren't here to give it."

She fell silent and Carlisle hesitated to look up at her, but he did. She was still staring at her feet, tears dropped from her eyes as her lip quivered uncontrollably. Something in him made him move closer to him, his arms out for a hug. He just wanted to calm her, to help her, to wrap his arms around her to tell her that he was here and would never leave her again.

But he couldn't.

"Don't touch me!" She exclaimed, holding her arms around herself. She looked back down at her feet with blurry vision.

Carlisle's eyes held grief, pain, and sorrow. He didn't like seeing her like this. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Y/N sighed heavily and went to her couch, sitting down and pouring a glass of scotch. Carlisle was by her side in a split second, his hand grabbing the bottle and pulling it from her grip.

"You shouldn't be putting this stuff in your body, you almost just died because of it. You've polluted your blood, it smells different," he told her gently.

Y/N didn't look at him, she stated at her glass and sighed, "You... get no say… in what I choose to put in my body."

Without looking at him, she grabbed the bottle again and poured her drink, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a sip. He looked away from her, unable to watch her do this to herself. Or rather what he did to her.

As she drank the liquid, it burned down her throat. She expected it to calm her nerves as it always had, but she only grew self-conscious. Having him see her like this, down at her lowest low as she downed a glass of alcohol, she felt unclean and poisoned. She felt invaluable and dirty. She felt like she had lost all of her importance sitting next to him so hopelessly.

She set her glass down soundlessly, standing up from her spot on the couch to get to the fridge. She opened it and grabbed a bottle of water, hoping it would help to cleanse some of that feeling out of her.

But it didn't. Sure, the water was refreshing, but it didn't help.

Carlisle spoke into the silence, eyes glued to a picture hanging on the wall where she was smiling brightly with her late grandfather. She looked so happy in that picture, a vast contrast to how she looked now.

"I spent every day wishing I was with you. I wanted to come home but I didn't think it was safe. I thought I was putting you in danger simply by being here," Carlisle admitted sadly. His honey smooth voice was clear but anything was calm. It was sad. If he was capable of it, it would have broken multiple times throughout his words.

She sunk down to her knees as he spoke, she didn't want to look back up at him as he spoke, her head against the wall. She didn't look over. "You put me in danger by not being here…" she said softly, "I thought I lost the one I loved the most. It hurt. It especially hurt thinking that the one I loved the most didn't love me." Her voice cracked at the end.

He turned to her, but she did not turn to meet his gaze. It hurt too much to look at him. "I do love you. In all my years, I've never loved like I do with you. You're my everything. I never meant to hurt you."

"All you had to do was stay," she shook her head as she spoke, still refusing to look up at him. She brought her legs in front of her and tucked them to her chest, setting her chin on her arms.

The room fell back into uncomfortable silence. She stared at the cabinet filled with liquor in disgust, thinking back to the pill she took earlier that night. How could she be so stupid?

She swallowed hard as she felt another lump in her throat, more tears threatening to spill. Carlisle licked his lips and closed his eyes, "All I wanted to do was help people. I dedicated my whole existence to doing just that. Then I find someone as special as you and hurt the person I wanted to protect the most."

Carlisle was gone in the next second. He'd left so quickly, there was no sound from the door opening or closing behind him. She saw lights flash outside her window as he started his car, pulling out of the driveway and leaving her alone in her house.

Y/N's face scrunched as tears left her. They streamed down her face, her eyes puffing once again and her body shook. She thought over their conversation in her head. She was too hard on him, she knew that. She should have accepted him and let him make everything okay.

But she didn't, she pushed him away. Even after he just saved her life…again.

"Carlisle," she said. She hadn't spoken his name in months, it hurt too much to say. But after seeing him again, knowing he was real, after all. It was so good to say his name again, it was a release she didn't know she needed. She repeated his name through her sobs, like playing a broken record. It felt so good.

She didn't know how long she was crying. She grabbed the scotch bottle off the table and began to bring it to her lips before stopping. She sighed and looked at the bottle. She shook her head, turning to the sink and pouring it down the drain.

There was a small part of her that was screaming at her to stop, to think about what she was doing, but that part was too small against this new need, this old and new desire in her body.

This desire to make it up to Carlisle.

She couldn't go on the way she was, she knew it wasn't healthy from the start, but she didn't care because it was a distraction, it made her feel somewhat good.

But she was going to do her best to be worthy of his love again. Hopefully, getting rid of the pollutant, the poison she'd been giving herself would make up for an inkling of the harm she inflicted upon him.

She didn't care that he hurt her now that she had hurt him. She just needed to make it up, and she would spend the rest of her life doing that.

She grabbed every bottle she had, pouring it down the sink. With each drop down, she felt unsure of herself. Would she be able to stick it out? This was what she used to cope, this was what she had been using for strength these several months.

Her instincts tried to make her stop what she was doing, but she needed to change her instincts. She needed to get them back to how they were. She needed to be strong for Carlisle.

When the liquor was gone, she closed her eyes and sighed. She felt this strange freedom, this strange pride in her being. She was proud of herself, but only a little bit. It wasn't enough to make her crack any type of smile.

She threw all the liquor bottles in the trash, getting rid of her demon. When she was finished, it was roughly five in the morning. She was practically dead on her feet.

She had terrible sleep over the past couple of weeks, it was so bad that she resulted in not sleeping at all in the past few days.

She was really dizzy and she felt herself swaying, struggling to keep her on her feet. Normally, she would just down a glass of liquor and keep running on that. But seeing as she had just disposed of every single drop she had, that wasn't an option.

Another reason for being so tired? She neglected her body of the water she needed to survive. She was extremely dehydrated.

In short, her body was barely holding on to what little life it held.

She shook her head and declared herself awake, headed to the door to go to Carlisle. She needed to see him. She needed to be with him and reassure him that they would be okay. They had to be okay. She couldn't lose him twice.

However, she didn't make it past the couch before she collapsed, falling to the floor as she passed out instantly.

~

She might as well start getting used to being woken by people because she collapsed on the floor. Bella was waking her up anxiously, Charlie by her side-- he was probably the one who got the locked door open. Both Charlie and Carlisle had a key.

"Y/N, wake up!" She exclaimed. Y/N's eyes opened slowly and she saw the two hovering over her, fear written across their faces. They relaxed a little when she opened her eyes fully and slowly sat up. She had a pounding headache, though.

"What happened, kid?" Charlie asked, helping her sit up.

Y/N laughed humorlessly, "I guess I was so tired I passed out." She was dizzy as she looked around the room. She struggled to her feet, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge to try and soothe herself.

When her vision settled and she wasn't seeing four Swans in her house, she sighed. Charlie looked over at the trash can filled with liquor bottles.

"What is this?" He asked, eyeing her with a hint of disappointment.

She spoke quickly, "I wasn't drinking any." She thought with the speed of a vampire. She'd spent so much time with the Cullens, she'd picked up on their ability to lie so quickly, "I saw them near the house just laying there, I think someone dumped them, so I threw them away. I passed out because I got tired and dehydrated from so much work at the diner."

He nodded and thought about her answer. It was a legitimate answer to him. He's known this girl her whole life, she wouldn't drink that much, especially at 19. But, in her defense, she would be twenty soon.

He nodded and told her, "Just…be careful, you scared me, kid."

She gave him a reassuring look, forcing a smile, "I will, Chief."

He nodded to her again and looked between her and his daughter before turning to leave them alone, it looked like they had something to talk about.

When he was gone and well out of earshot, Bella rushed to her quickly, "Are you insane? Edward told me what you did. Overdose, really?!"

Y/N sighed, "It was an accident. I was getting… really bad… and someone offered and I was too far gone. It was one pill but I was drunk and it didn't go well… He found me and helped me. We argued and I'm just… I'm trying to fix it."

She watched her as she spoke, she believed every word she said. Y/N was in no position to lie to her at the moment. Bella sighed, "Get some sleep first, at least. I know I can't tell you what to do but you fainted, so I think we can both agree that you need to sleep before you turn into ash or something."

Y/N sighed and agreed to at least that. She knew she needed sleep before she passed out while driving to the Cullen's and really died.

She got in the shower to soothe her body and release some of the tension in her muscles. She'd been so stressed lately and last night with seeing Carlisle for the first time in over six months, arguing with him, and almost dying (technically almost dying twice), she needed a healthy outlet.

After the long shower, she was able to get herself to drift into sleep. After seeing Carlisle again, her nightmares calmed down and allowed her a dreamless sleep. It was nice to have sleep, she hadn't gotten much of it in a long time.

~

After getting healthy sleep, even if it was only three hours, sleep was sleep, she quickly ate to calm her growling stomach.

She was grabbing her keys when her phone rang. She sighed and turned to pick it up, "Hello?"

"Y/N, I'm glad you're okay. Charlie told me what happened," Billy’s voice said on the other end.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Didn't mean to worry anybody," she told him. She internally sighed. Word spread quick around Forks, she would be surprised if the whole town called to ask if she was okay. But she would rather answer that many phone calls in one day.

Billy wasn't the last to call either. As soon as the call ended, the phone rang again as another person contacted Y/N to make sure she was alright.

What a great town this was to show their concern for her.

At the wrong times.

By the fifth call, she decided to just email all of the people she knew would be calling who hadn't called yet. She wrote the email, reassuring everyone that she was A-OK and didn't need any help. That seemed to shut up the phone and she was able to leave.

She groaned loudly when she looked at the time again. It was already late as it struck five in the evening.

She waited a few more minutes to make sure the phone didn't ring again before getting in her car. During the car ride, she kept herself hydrated, learning from her mistake. She wasn't too keen on fainting from lack of hydration or sleep.

She sped down the familiar path to the Cullen House. She wanted to get there quickly, she had wasted enough time with her mundane activities. She needed to see him.

When she came through the trees and pulled into the Cullen's driveway, she got out before the keys were even out of the ignition. Y/N walked up to the house, seeing Carlisle standing in a window. He saw her and, even from where she was standing, she could see something in eyes when he met hers.

She swallowed hard and held her arms out in front of her, a proposal. He zoomed out of the window and out of the house. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest.

She instantly broke down again, she was getting tired of crying. Her arms held him to her, never letting go. She was so afraid that if she left go of him, she'd lose him all over again. She couldn't go through that twice.

Even if it wasn't the same as before, it was still her scent Carlisle breathed in as he hugged her tight, careful not to crush her. Everyone else must have been out hunting if they hadn't shown up by now.

Y/N let out a sharp breath before sucking another back in, sobbing into Carlisle's chest. He felt good. He felt like home. She was home.

She let out a breathy laugh and sniffled, letting him hold her to him. It was as if all of their troubles had washed away so that this moment was the most special of all.

Y/N pulled her head out of the crook of his neck just so she could kiss him. She missed him more than anything, she missed his hugs, his kisses, his words of love. This was perfect.

They were wrapped up in their moment, wrapped up in each other. It felt so amazing to have their lives back. They were home again.

She breathed deeply, holding the breath in as her lips moved in sync with her mate's. She then let the breath out in a moan, but she was too focused on the moment to let the sound embarrass her. She wrapped her arms tighter around him.

He pulled away enough to speak, still so close that he spoke against her lips, "I'm so sorry for what I've done to you."

She shook her head, "Stay." She didn't care about what happened, she cared about what can happen.

He smiled, "I will." It was her turn to bring him back into the kiss, kissing him deeply and passionately. It had been too long since she felt his touch.

When her mind came back to her drinking briefly as she spoke into his lip, "I'm quitting."

"Good," he smiled, once again kissing her. They weren't going to waste any time to be near each other, touch each other, love each other.

When the kiss slowed, she took a deep breath in, his scent filling her senses. She missed his scent. She opened her eyes to stare in his, they were beautiful, honey gold, sparkling as he gazed at her. She missed those eyes. She expected them to be darker like they were last night, but they were just as golden as the sun.

She smiled, her first genuine smile in months. He smiled back at her, captivated by her. Their foreheads were still pressed together and they swayed slightly, reveling in each other.

Y/N spoke, intoxicated by him, "I love you." Her words were a whisper, a breath that delivered the sweetest of air.

Carlisle beamed down at her, a light laugh escaping his throat as he gazed at her, his face looking like he was going to cry while his eyes stayed clear of any tears. "I love you," he told her sincerely. The only thing they could think of doing after the heartwarming confession was to kiss each other again.

He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning again at the feel of his body against hers. She felt amazing with him.

He set her on the hood of her car and continued to kiss her, mumbling against her lips, "I'm going to marry you one day."

She smiled, "What's keeping you back?"

"Absolutely nothing," he told her genuinely.

They stayed like that, just kissing each other's pain away the best they could. There was no way they could ever leave each other's sides. After the ordeal they just went through, they could never.

He told her in that soft, smooth voice she missed with all her being, "I will never leave you again. No matter what, I will always be right here with you. I love you."

"I know," she replied just as gently, "I love you. You're the best thing that will ever happen to me. I love you so much."

The confessions were falling freely, leaving their lips faster than they could think. "After all this time, I still can't believe I'm yours. I can't imagine my life without you now, Carlisle. I obviously wouldn't last. If you hadn't stepped in, I'd be dead. Here I am, only living and breathing because you were here to care for me."

"I don't want to lose you, Y/N," he told her that same thing the first time they kissed. They held so much gravity then and they only seem to hold more now, "I don't know how I'd survive without you now. You're my life now and I will never let you go ever again. I promise you."

They thought they were going to be there forever confessing their feelings over and over again, drinking each other in with each kiss. They knew that they would eventually have to go inside and spare the others.

They went inside and eventually everyone came back from their hunting trip. They expressed how good it was to have her around again and how much they missed her. After a talk with Alice about how Carlisle knew she was in trouble, she went up to Carlisle's room with her hand grasped tightly in his.

There was a bed in his room that he had bought specifically for her so she could fall asleep in his arms. They were talking quietly with each other for a while before she finally fell asleep in his embrace.

He promised her that he would never ways protect her and that he would never leave her again, he promised that he loved her deeply, that he would always love her and he would always be here. He kissed her forehead, "Goodnight, my darling. I love you."

She smiled in her sleep, holding him tighter as she allowed her dreams to run wild. It was the best sleep she'd had in what felt like forever as she held tightly to him, never once letting him go as she slept.

Carlisle could have sworn she heard her mumble his name in her sleep and he smiled, breathing in deeply to enjoy her presence.

She muttered to herself, lost in her dreams of him, "I love you, Carlisle…"

[zodiyack]

Kiwi

Requested by @simonsbluee​: hi! can i request a Tommy Shelby story that’s based off the song Kiwi by Harry Styles? all good if you can’t :)

Pairing: Thomas ‘Tommy’ Shelby x Female!Reader

Warnings: Lyrics, angst, swearing, indications to smut

Song: Kiwi by Harry Styles

Words: 1,216

Summary: (See Request?)

Note: I had no idea what on earth to do for this so my apologies and also, fun-fact, I thought I remembered what kiwi was until I listened to it when I started writing and then had to pause and check what song it was- 😅

Edit: After having a friend proof-read it for me and getting their “go-ahead” to post this, I’ve decided to listen to them rather than sit and cringe at myself so uh... Here ya goooo

Key: Bold + Italic = Lyrics | Italic = Memories and sometimes emphasis

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy​, @stydia-4-ever​, @peakyxtommy​, @cai-neki​, @simonsbluee​, @matth1w​, @redspaceace-writes​, @peakysputain​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​, @marquelapage​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @thewarriorprincessxo​, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist | Cillian Murphy Masterlist

She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes, Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect. And all the boys, they were saying they were into it. Such a pretty face, on a pretty neck

Anyone could spot her in the Garrison, even if they had no clue who she was. Her outer demeanor was intimidating, with or without her husband. Y/n Shelby was one of the most feared yet yearned for woman in Small Heath, side by side on the list with her aunt-in-law, Polly Gray. No one dared act a fool when she was around. Then of course, that depended on their definition of the cringe-eliciting behavior.

Men constantly tried their luck with her. Easy to spot, she sat at a table in the middle of the bar with a cigarette in her hand and a glass in front of her as she conversed with her husband’s brothers. Every time a man came around, she shot them down without hesitation. This time no different.

“Are you without partner, miss?” A male on the younger side asked with a warm yet shy grin.

“Are you without brain, sir?” Her response was serious but held slight sarcasm. Everyone who knew of the blinders knew she was married to one of the many people they didn’t want to mess with. Insulting the poor man was far better than having his eyesight removed.

“N-no?”

“Hm, quite a surprise.” She looked down to her cigarette before flicking her eyes back up to the man. “Nevertheless, a man without brain nor eyes is the same as a man with brain and no eyes.”

The quiver in his voice almost made her feel bad for the quips she’d spat. But alas, it was only almost. “What...what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means yes, I do indeed have a partner.” The brothers around her chuckled and mocked the now cowering man, Y/n herself giving an amused smile and taking a drag of the stick between her fingers.

Tommy stood behind the man, looking at him with a blank expression once he’d turned around after backing into him. He lifted a brow, not once breaking eye contact. “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she.”

The man trembled, confused. “Y-yeah-” He stuttered as he shook with embarrassment.

“Her body, face, lips... Smart one too... She’s perfect. Too bad she’s spoken for.” Tommy muttered before walking over and sliding into the seat next to her. Y/n took the cigarette from her mouth and placed it between Tommy’s soft lips, lifting her eyes to his as she watched him endearingly.

Only one man could make the infamously feared woman smile in such an angelic manner. One man and one man only. His name, Thomas Michael Shelby.

She's driving me crazy, but I'm into it, but I'm into it, I'm kind of into it, It's getting crazy, I think I'm losing it, I think I'm losing it, Oh I think she said "I'm having your baby, it's none of your business"

"I'm having your baby, it's none of your business"

"I'm having your baby, it's none of your business"

"I'm having your baby, it's none of your, it's none of your"

In hindsight, Tommy should’ve listened to his aunt’s words of wisdom. She’d told him love is crazy and makes you crazy, even Y/n mentioned it a multitude of times. Being together was only half the happy ending. Driving each other up the walls, it only drew them closer. Y/n, Tommy’s better half and Tommy, Y/n’s.

Love really did have an impact similar to the legend shrouding it’s definition. And they loved love for it.

But then the darker side of Tommy’s occupation found time to object every good thing his life had to offer. Although it didn’t tear a hole in the romance, it knocked it into a spiral that was supposed to register it as perfectly normal, sane, and very boring. 

However, it hadn’t done anything large than strike a little worry into their hearts. What their enemy forgot was that nothing involving the Peaky Blinders was “normal” or “casual”, especially not boring.

It's New York, baby, always jacked up, Whole tunnels, foreign noses always backed up. When she's alone, she goes home to a cactus, In a black dress, she's such a such an actress

She's driving me crazy, but I'm into it, but I'm into it, I'm kind of into it, It's getting crazy, I think I'm losing it, I think I'm losing it. Oh I think she said "I'm having your baby, it's none of your business"

Tommy sent Y/n with his brothers and sister while he took care of things at home. He remembered holding her in his arms with a sincere apologetic but loving look in his blue orbs. The smell of her lingered on his collar. She refused to let go of him until John shouted that the train would be leaving without her had she stayed put.

“Wipe your eyes, my love. I’m not worth the tears-”

The sound of her palm coming into contact with his skin made Ada jump with a shriek from beside her other brothers. “Thomas Michael Shelby, don’t you dare fucking say that. That is...that is... It’s bullshit!” Tommy chuckled softly. Y/n couldn’t help but join in, “Stop laughing at me, you fucking- fucking bloody handsome asshole.”

“Alright alright... Promise me you won’t cry...at least, not anymore than you already have. For if you cry, it’ll break my heart and then I fear I won’t have the heart to see you off.”

“Tommy Shelby? Not having a heart? Are you sure me crying will be the cause in this scenario?” She jabbed with a giggle.

“Say what you’d like, Y/n, but my word remains true.” He pulled her closer and their lips collided. There, only for a moment, it felt like time had stopped just for them. “Go with them, stay safe and hidden, always carry your gun, and only have close friends deliver messages. They’re fucking listening on the telephones...”

It was the same things he’d said since they’d started planning this. Always with the essentials that probably really had no purpose to be labeled as essential, plus the minor setbacks that were more than likely never to happen.

Tommy was paranoid, but she couldn’t blame him. Thinking ahead and being prepared for the worst was better than not doing so and dealing with the consequences of unwanted surprise.

“I know. We’ve been over it a thousand times or more, Thomas. I’ll be fine,” she held his face in her hands as she took him in for the final time before her journey, “I promise.”

"I'm having your baby, it's none of your business"

"I'm having your baby, it's none of your business"

"I'm having your baby, it's none of your, it's none of your"

She sits beside me like a silhouette, Hard candy dripping on me 'til my feet are wet, And now she's all over me, it's like I paid for it, It's like I paid for it, I'm gonna pay for this

Their lips crashed together and thus began their dance. Practically made for each other, everything of Y/n fit perfectly with everything of Tommy. Their lips, bodies, personalities, everything. A rough performance, full of passion and lust, was regularly preformed after long days, trips, or times that didn’t cause the couple to be apart for agonizingly long periods of time, sometimes death-run-ins were audience enough for their show to sell.

Tommy refused to wait for words or sighs of relief. He would let her know verbally in the morning, if he was done with her by then. Thomas felt at ease once she was back in his arms, like the piece of himself that had been missing for far too long was finally where it needed to be.

If Y/n was to deny her liking of Tommy’s pleasant surprise, she’d be a liar.

Rarely did Y/n become the one in charge, so when she was handed the reigns, she didn’t miss a beat before getting into character. She was always his “right-hand-man” and now she had the chance to show that she was much more than the simple role.

By the end of the night, both had their fun and chance to participate as the leader to their waltz. Heavy breaths and messy exteriors, the two had shown each other the burning passion they held for each other that never died out. Tom swore to himself never to send his wife away unless her life absolutely depended on it.

It's none of your, it's none of your

"I'm having your baby, it's none of your business"

"I'm having your baby, it's none of your business"

"I'm having your baby, it's none of your business"

"I'm having your baby, it's none of your business"

The night she sleepily entered their home for the first time since they’d parted ways at the train station, he’d given her passion. He’d given her all of him. He’d given her his control. He’d given her all the love he had. He gave her his child.

[writingwithacupoftea]

Of black cats and lessons to be learned

Summary: Someone is meddling with Y/N Shelby’s work at Shelby Company Limited and Tommy jumps to conclusions that he’ll later regret.

Word Count: 2242

A/N: I honestly still don’t know if I like this ending, but let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy it!!

The rain poured down outside the window of her office at Shelby Company Limited, and occasionally a large drop would bounce loudly off the glass. Normally Y/N would find the sound comforting, but today it was just downright fucking annoying. But as the door to said office bangs open, Y/N knows that the rain is going to be the least of her worries.

No one ever enters her office without knocking but Tommy.

And Tommy never lets the door bang unless he's pissed off.

Despite refusing to look up at her elder brother and boss, Y/N felt his glare on her as he stormed over. When Tommy slammed last week's accounts onto her desk, she slammed her pen down and glared right back at him. 

"What the fuck is this?" Tommy demanded. 

"Last week's accounts," Y/N deadpanned, not breaking eye contact. 

"This isn't the time for jokes, Y/N, this is serious. They're riddled with mistakes for the third week running. Mistakes that could be lethal to this company and people's view of us" 

"Well everything was correct when I handed it over to your secretary, I checked and double checked everything," as usual, Y/N added silently. "I keep telling you, my work is being meddled with!"  Whilst Y/N appeared calm, her blood was boiling. 

Tommy slowly took out a cigarette and lit it, in what she assumed was supposed to be an intimidating manner. It would be, to anyone but her. 

"I've been having dreams about a black cat. Someone is trying to steal my crown." He sighed. "For someone so intelligent, I'd have expected better from you, Y/N" The woman in question was stunned into silence. 

"Seriously, Tommy, me? I'd have expected better from you than to go around making accusations like that, both as your employee and as your sister.  I've supported you through everything. When everyone turned against you, I was there. And you have the nerve to stand here and say that I'm trying to overthrow you." Y/N's anger was starting to seep through into her words, and a tidal wave was sure to follow. "You know that I loved Grace when you married, but GOD you were completely blinded by a good fuck all those years ago, and do you know what?" Y/N leaned forwards, menacingly, "I think the same has happened again." 

With those few words, Tommy reached the end of his tether, slamming his hand onto the solid wood desk. "ENOUGH! If that's what you think of me, let's get the truth out in the open, eh? I think you've wanted this since the start. I think you've wormed your way around the company and the rest of this family and, blinded by your ambition -" 

"My ambition?!" "you've forgotten the one main obstacle in your way. Me. And I'll tell you something else: I’m not moving for anyone." 

A tense silence fell in the room.  Y/N, holding back her tears and refusing to show any signs of weakness, simply nodded. "That was quite the speech, Thomas. Rather hypocritical too, might I add, lecturing me on being blinded by ambition. But I'm not even going to try and defend myself against those ridiculous claims because, when it's too late, you'll realise just how wrong you were." Y/N's voice was icy cold, and she picked up her coat and bag. "I only have two things left to say to you. As your employee, I resign, you can sort this fucking mess out on your own this time. And as your sister, well, you're not my family anymore." With that, Y/N stormed past him, out of the building and let the rain disguise her tears. 

*** 

The only family member that Y/N had spoken to since the incident was Esme. She informed her sister-in-law that she was going to spend some time on the road with the Boswell's, a gypsy family who Y/N had become very well acquainted with, but they hadn't spoken since.  It wasn't running away, it was an attempt to break free. That's what Y/N kept telling herself anyway. 

Her time on the road had been exactly what she needed. The freedom, the open air, all the things that Y/N never realised that she had missed so much. Yet it was still tainted with memories of Tommy. Memories of happier times, when he would chase her around and play games and smile.  Y/N had accepted that the war had changed her older brother, but the day she stormed out he was completely unrecognisable.   

They used to always have each other's backs.  She always wanted to make her beloved brother proud, but never wanted to be 'just like Tommy', despite Arthur and John's endless teasing.  They were each other's rocks, the one reliable thing, and now that feeling of security had faded away like the smoke from his cigarettes. 

Y/N was destroyed by the incident in her office, even though she hid it well. Now, two months into her time on the road, she was ready to be busy again and so set out to find a new job. 

*** 

It had been four months since any of the family had seen or heard from Y/N. 

Tommy had discovered that, as usual, his sister's instincts had been right and there had been someone trying to bring the business down from the inside. And it was the secretary.  And she was part of another criminal gang who were rapidly expanding.  A black fucking cat if ever Tommy saw one. 

The traitor had had the nerve to tell him that the way to tear the company apart was to, quite simply, shatter the relationship between the two people who had the greatest minds and the strongest relationship: Y/N and Tommy. 

It was the truth and Tommy knew it, having already felt the impact of her absence dearly, both on the efficiency of the company and on himself.  But the it was too much for him to handle, and had let Arthur and John see to it that the secretary couldn't reveal any more truths to him. 

He had never realised how important his sister was to him, how loyal and how much he needed her.  With every day that passed without hearing of Y/N, Tommy became more and more anxious. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself and the rest of the family wouldn't forgive him either. 

But the day that Tommy did get news of his beloved little sister, he almost wished he hadn't. 

'A sister for a sister, seems fair enough, don't you think, Mr Shelby? We'll be in touch.' 

Along with the note came a bullet.  A bullet with Y/N's name etched into it, wrapped in her bloodied handkerchief. 

*** 

Sheffield had been the nearest city.  That was why Y/N chose to stop there. What she didn't realise is that it was a city rife with gangs. 

She had fallen in with another gang, the last thing that she wanted to do. 

And now she was locked in a cold, damp basement and, though she hated to admit it, Y/N wanted Tommy more than ever.  

Beaten and bruised, she felt like a little girl again with her desperate need to be enveloped in her older brother's arms once again.  But despite her wants and her needs, she had refused to break, even when she had been battered to the point of unconsciousness in her kidnapper's attempt to get information out of her. 

She would protect her family and their company until her last breath.  She would protect Tommy as he had protected her so many times in the past. 

But it wouldn't come to that, because Y/N Shelby was far too stubborn to die whilst being guarded by a man that couldn't even count to ten. And so, with this new found strength and resolve, she planned her escape. As much as she wanted her brother, she damn well refused to let him come riding in like her knight in shining armour... 

*** 

Days had passed since Tommy had received the note.  The Shelby clan had all reacted in their own ways, but no one was as torn up as Thomas Shelby.  He was drinking more, lashing out more, and no one knew when he was going to completely snap. 

The family had poured all of their time and energy into searching for their sister, and yet they still didn't have a single lead. All they knew was that the traitorous secretary hailed from Sheffield, however there was definitely more than one gang based there. 

But one day, a gloomy day where the rain poured down outside the Garrison, the people of Small Heath were able to stop living in fear of the leader of the Peaky Blinders' next outburst. 

Thin, trembling, black and blue, Y/N Shelby stumbled through the door to the pub, where her family were gathered. Crystal blue eyes locked with hers, widening in shock and relief. But that was the last thing she saw before letting the exhaustion take over her, and her body collapsed to the floor. 

*** 

The hours that followed were a blur for Tommy. Not caring that everyone was watching, he had scooped Y/N into his arms and refused to let her go as John had driven them to Tommy's house; even though it was only a few streets away, he didn't want her getting any colder than she already was. She was as pale as death, and Tommy was scared. 

Polly had come round, he remembered, to tend to Y/N's wounds and settle her down into his bed.  She had shooed him out of the way as he tried to stay in the room, not wanting to leave his sister's side now that he finally had her back. 

After she had gone, well, Tommy didn't know how long he sat by his sister's bedside.  It could've been minutes, or hours.  He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Y/N look so vulnerable. Since he had come back from France, she always seemed so strong. Maybe, Tommy mused, she really was too much like him sometimes.  In his dedication to the company, he'd started to forget that she was his little sister first and foremost, and not just his best employee. 

The next morning, Tommy was still so consumed with his guilt and worry that he didn't even notice when Y/N first woke up.  Yet at the small voice saying "Tom?", his attention moved completely to his little angel. 

"Hello, trouble," he said, a glimmer of a smile passing over his lips as his sister glanced quickly around the room and then straight back to him.  

"I made it," she sighed softly, tears finally beginning to pour down her cheeks. "I'm home." 

"Shhh now. You're here, you're safe, and I'm not gonna let those bastards touch you again." Tommy brought her hand, which he had been clasping tightly since the moment that Polly had finished, up to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. "And I am so, so sorry, sweetheart. You were right, you're always fucking right. If I'd just listened to you, you wouldn't be in this state now. I love you so much and I'm so sorry..." Tommy continued rambling quietly to himself, and Y/N was alarmed to feel his tears hitting her hand.  She was also amazed to hear the Thomas Shelby say the word 'sorry' - he usually said it through his actions, and never actually said it out loud.  But here he was, unable to stop whispering it to her. 

"Tom..." 

"Don't you dare fucking tell me that this isn't my fault." Y/N was brought to silence by the severity of his voice. "I failed you, Y/N/N." 

"You've taught me so much Tommy, and I love you more than anything, but speak to me like you did all those months ago and I will leave again. Maybe it's time the roles were reversed and you let your little sister teach you some things, yeah?" The siblings chuckled at that. Tommy knew that he couldn't cope with her leaving again. He just couldn't. His entire world had crumbled in the time that she had been away, but at the same time he knew that Y/N was right. Painfully, he added, he knew that she'd be right to get away from him if he ever became like that again.  

Y/N saw the tear tracks left on her brother's face and the look in his eyes that told her that he was scared that she was going to vanish right before his eyes. She knew that, as much as this conversation wasn't over, it could wait for another day, and she patted the space next to her on the bed. "Come on, you big old softie." 

"Oi, watch it." Tommy replied, sternly. However Y/N saw the teasing glint in her brother's eyes as he gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to his chest, and placed a kiss on the top of her head. 

As they lay there, the sun gently began to break through the clouds.

***

Both of them had a lot to learn, they knew that. But they'd do it together in their typical Y/N and Tommy way. 

And the first lesson that Y/N learnt was that when Tommy Shelby said that he wasn't going to let you out of his sight for a while, he really fucking meant it. 

[miyalove]

 ⋆｡˚⁀➷ MISHAPS.

⤷ pairing: nishinoya yuu x gn!reader

⤷ genre. bests friends au, pining, fluff, kinda awkward too, slightly suggestive

⤷ warnings: pining, swearing, reader sometimes says choppy sentences as they are not that completely familiar with speaking japanese, suggestive themes, *unedited

1.7k | you’re fairly new to the japanese language, so there’s a lot of very awkward, very tense mishaps between you and your best friend, nishinoya.

“let’s try this one again,” ennoshita leans into you, pointing at a specific question on your worksheet. “you got the spelling right but the conjugation is kinda off.”

you hum in response, not really hearing what he said. when ennoshita’s dark eyes bore into you with a questioning glint, you realize you’re completely burned out. he asked you to do something, you presume, but you can’t muster up the energy to feign confusion.

“(y/n)?” he murmurs your name, but you don’t respond. simply just starring at him dead-faced and half-lidded. you hear him let out a sigh, shifting his gaze to your classmates who, just like you, are dozing off.

“alright, i guess we could use a break, huh?” coherently, everyone let’s out a sigh of relief finally relaxing. noya, whose sitting at your side, let’s out a grumbled huff. followed by tanaka letting out a loud groan already complaining about how hard and most importantly boring studying is. 

checking your phone, you’re surprised to see the time staring back at you. 11:48 pm, nearly midnight. no wonder you and all the other 2nd years were so beat. straight after practice all six of you had made plans to go to tanaka’s place to study. ennoshita gracefully volunteered to help all of you out (like the angel he is) and unlike the other 2nd years (noya and tanaka mostly), you simply needed help with one subject in particular; japanese.

speaking it was mostly easy. ever now and then your words would get muddled and it caused some mishaps but for the most part you’re okay verbally. however, writing it was a different thing. that’s why when noya invited you to the study group (loudly and practically forcing you to go), you gladly accepted thanking all the gods out there that when it comes to japanese ennoshita is an expert. the walk over was pleasant, mostly chatting with nishinoya, a long time friend of yours, and tanaka. he was jumpy, nothing out of the ordinarily to you but every now and then tanaka would pull him to the side and whisper into his ear something so sweet it had the flamboyant boy blushing. 

you ached to know what they were secretly talking about, but the two are relentless when it comes to secrets so asking them would simply be a dead end. all you had to go off of was nishinoya’s mumbled replies of, “dude, shut the hell up” or “it’s really not like that”. which as you can tell, isn’t much. 

when you all arrived, there was no time for breaks. heavy textbooks and prepared worksheets were whipped out on the table ready to grind. it was hard work for you, your classmates, and even more so ennoshita. he had to tutor all of you as well as find the time to study on his own. bless his big heart, really. he’s a tough teacher though allowing no breaks until... well... now.

at this point, your body aches and you’re so close to welcoming the sweet relief of sleep or death (which ever comes first). turning your neck to the side, a hallow feeling of pain shots up your spine. a low whimper escapes your plump lips. across the room, you don’t notice the way nishinoya uncooly stumbles over his words as he speaks to narita. his ears painted with an obvious light pink hue. straightening out your back, there’s a subtle pop that breaks everyone out of their small conversations.

rubbing at the knot, you sigh, “this hurts... a lot.” what you would do for a message right now. reaching for the juncture that connects your neck and shoulder, you rub tender circles into your skin. hopping that the subtle stimulation will kill off any other pain that shoots through you. your plan back fires when your joints start to cramp.

shifting in your seat, your gaze sets on nishinoya whose already eyeing you from across the room. dark eyes clash with your own and there’s something stirring in his hues, something you can’t make out but it’s there. a dull flame and you can’t quite bring yourself to ignore it completely. you know the hyperactive blonde well. nishinoya yuu is one of your greatest and most trusted friends no matter how obnoxiously loud, obsessive, and ironically clueless he is. 

“hey yuu, help me out?” you gesture him over to you. pointing at the spot that hurts the most on your body. when you don’t hear any movement, you turn back wincing at the sharp pain from the fast movement.

“noya?” waving in front of him. he seems frozen in place. his big chocolate eyes blink every once in a while but other than that, there’s nothing. the other guys in the room practically cringe at the way noya stands there blanking. there’s no secret that nishinoya has a tiny bit of a crush, well no secret except to you.

you’re getting impatient, now. from across the room, you don’t notice the way tanaka nudges ennoshita as he let’s out a raspy cough. “me and the boys are gonna go to the kitchen real quick! uh... see ya!” with how fast they all shuffle out of the room, you’d think getting you and noya alone was part of some kind of convoluted plan. but that’s absurd, right? 

“that was odd,” you expect to hear your friend say something but when you turn to him, you’re meet with the same image before; nishinoya seems to be short circuiting. 

“yuu, hello?” leaning into him, he gets a strong whiff of your shampoo. a gentle scent of sweet vanilla. he imagines for a split second reaching out to you, lacing his hands through your roots and playing with the silky tassels. the lovely image is enough to knock him back into reality.

nishinoya animatedly shakes his head back into reality. “where the hell did everybody go?” his voice is tamed and soft. something you’re not very use to but whenever it happens you make sure to indulge in it for as long as possible.

“went out to get some food,” you gesture towards the screen door that’s ajar. had he not been paying attention? you give him a sideways glance, noya not paying attention isn’t much of a surprise. 

not fully convinced, you make a mental note before asking what’s been on your mind, “alright... i was going to ask if you could rub at this spot?”

your words are a little choppy but he gets the jest. you want him to, essentially, massage you. to get the knot out of your neck by rubbing at your skin. nishinoya can feel his ears already reddening. this was normal, right? asking a friend for a massage, alone, with your other friends seemingly away in the kitchen? it’s not like he’s being pining after you for years or anything. no, that would make things weird and if noya is any one thing, he is not weird. i got this he repeats in his head but his shaky hands contradict his confidence.

your back his facing him. for once thankful that he’s not able to see your pretty face because if you saw him now (blushing, stuttering, and a complete mess), you definitely ask what’s up. and what was he to say to that? sorry, i’ve been fantasizing about touching you like this ever since grade school so i’m a little nervous! he’d rather to that stupid pretty boy from seijoh again then to even dream of saying something as stupid as that.  

you gesture once more where you want him to focus on. the junction where your neck meets your shoulder is where you point out. behind you, he scoots. his crossed knees frame the sides of your back almost perfectly. proving his one of many fantasy that’d you’d fit perfectly on his lap to be true. off all the places for him to touch, why’d you have to choose this one! the one place that nishinoya’s imagined kissing that wasn’t your pretty lips or thighs or hand or behind your ears or-

shaky hands raise to gently gently caress your shoulder already flustered from the warmth radiating off of you. ‘this is fine!’ he mentally screams. you lean into his touch eyes fluttering close at the absolute euphoria that washes over you. 

you’re the spitting image of blissful ignorance. if this were any other situation, you would be worrying as to why your usual talkative friend is so quiet but your mind is distracted. when noya has found a good rhythm is when things start to go haywire. you smile at the darkness in your eyelids pleasure taking over you.

humming a low tone of approval you let out a sigh, “feels so good~” 

THUMP. 

in an instant, nishinoya is towering over your sitting figure. “AH, FUCK!” he’s down clutching his knee face scrunched up in agony. your brows scrunch up, lips pressed into a thin line, “what happened?” there’s no proper response. just more jumbled curse words and murmurs of pain. 

you attempt to reach out to him. a wave of sympathy washing over you but suddenly, he’s knocked back into reality. your best friend jerks a back at your touch, letting out another squeak of pain, “NO! just- don’t- give me a second... shit.” 

“hello?” he couldn’t help it. the way you sounded so pretty beside him and how you so easily responded to his touch. you only imagined what you sounded like raw and vulnerable but now he’s had a sneak peak to the real thing... could you really blame him for acting up a little? 

they’re your friend! he repeats into his head over and over and over but his dick has a mind of it’s own. he can feel it stiffening, his shorts getting progressively tighter. 

“yuu, let me help you!”

oh, fuck.

you’re really killing him now.

when he meets your gaze, you’re pouting. bottom lip gutted out and your eyes waver with a mix of concern and angry. hair messy from all the times you pulled and ran your fingers through it from all the stressful studying. you come towards him, fingers gently pressing at his knee. your gentle touch not at all helping the situation that’s currently forming in his shorts.

he can’t bring himself to say anything. stiffly allowing you to guide him wherever you wanted, position him however you wanted. biting his lip, he can’t bring himself to stop staring. you lean into his thigh, mindlessly examining the reddening skin. he bumped it on the table when he abruptly stood up. then he feels you brush against his cock and he just knows he’s done for.

“yuu, i think you’ll be- oh.”

oh, indeed.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Hi I dont know if you want jercy requests at the moment but i had an idea for one :

Dark percy murdering calligula as a revenge for jason

Hello angel! Whew this request was willldddddd and I had soo much fun with it. There isn't any jercy per se (in fact Annabeth and Percy are together in this) but Percy is furrrrrious about Jason and he exacts a very twisted sort of revenge for his friend's honour. Basically this was an excuse to write dark!percy and by gods I hope I delivered!

CW: revenge driven, grief, graphic depictions of violence

Burning Maze Spoilers

he used to be nice.

He used to be nice.

Percy had been digging around the weapons room when his name had been shrieked like a dying animal. He had been looking for protective gear to give to little demigods in his sword-fighting class, when a scream like broken bones cracked through his body. He had been starting another calm, routine-controlled day at camp half-blood when he heard the news that made him snap.

*Two hours earlier*

“Jackson,” Annabeth knocks at his cabin door. He hears her voice carry through the open windows, and over the continuous sound of the ocean. “Pers, we have breakfast in half an hour and you have a sword class to teach today.”

The event had been printed on her wall of “to-dos” so that neither of their adhd brains would have the chance to forget. But he groans at the reminder, not wanting to escape his warm bed, or the duvet that wraps around him like a hug, or the pillows that hold his head as if he is a god. Sometimes he wishes he was a Hypnos kid. Their whole thing is sleeping . The knock sounds again.

“Seaweed Brain, come on,” His girlfriend sighs, “You promised we’d talk to Chiron about the—"

The loud and obnoxious cry of a harpy sounds somewhere in the distance and whatever she says next is drowned out completely. He knows though. Knows what she’s going to say and what they have to do. So he drags himself out of bed, like the last sack of potatoes on the crate. Heavy and bruised and discarded for the most desperate of the lot.

“I’m up,” He manages to rasp. He doesn’t like talking to people till he’s brushed his teeth, and eaten something, and spent at least half an hour staring at an empty coffee cup. A New Yorker through and through he supposes.

“Okay,” He hears Annabeth call, “I’ll see you at the dining hall then.”

He makes a sound half way between a grunt and a yawn and hopes she understands because that’s the best she’s getting out of him. The morning routine is quick, even done at the speed of a stubborn toddler. Soon he is sitting at the Poseidon table, scarfing down eggs and toast, and washing it done with a second cup of coffee. The buzzing in his veins is completely normal. And he’s definitely not speaking at a thousand miles an hour. This is how he always talks. Why on earth they allow coffee in a camp full of adhd kids, he’ll never understand. But it works in his favour so he isn’t going to complain.

By the time him and Annabeth are done talking to Chiron about introducing therapy to the camp, he feels like his eyes are moving faster than his sensory receptors can process and his thoughts are moving faster than his ability to process at all. So when his girlfriend, smiling at him about something, stops outside their training room he looks at her with furrowed brows and asks, “What are we doing here? Are we training for something?”

She frowns, “How much coffee did you have this morning?”

“Only three cups.” He shrugs, and clenches his hands in his pockets as if she can see through the fabric to the shaking body underneath.

Her grey eyes widen as if she’s about to scold him, a petulant child being chided by their ever tired caregiver. It makes the part of him still attempting to function slightly wild. He squishes that part down with the force of a thousand ships. Someone calls Annabeth’s name so with a quick peck to the cheek she leaves him in front of the training room and jogs towards the middle of camp and out of sight.

He stares at the room, trying to get his brain to stop focusing on things he doesn’t need to focus on right now, like the three lines of a song he heard at the grocery store a week ago that he hasn’t been able to get out of his head.

He used to be nice.

Entering the training room he scans the schedule and sees he’s teaching a class of small people, campers younger than ten who are just learning the ropes but should disaster ever strike will be ushered to the Cabin 9 bunkers to wait out the storm. It is a rule that no-one under the age of twelve be subject to war if they need not be. And he will make damn sure the need never ever surfaces.

He gathers swords of various shapes and sizes, along with a few daggers, and the straw dummies that have seen better days. It boggles his mind that they’re at a camp for children of literal greek gods but somehow there’s no funding for basic necessities like extra cots in the Hermes cabin, and better dummies to stab.

Muttering to himself he moves aside metal and stacks of straw, trying to find protective gear in the pile dumped at the corner of the training room. When he doesn’t see any he lets out a long suffering sigh... he has to go to the weapons room, which is more of a broom closet with deadly devices than anything else.

The room smelt musty, and the reek of rust slams into his nostrils at dizzying speeds. It reminds him of blood, and it made his skin itch with the need to get out. But still he bends down and searches through the mess of celestial bronze, and gold and—

The scream cauterizes his happiness. He is panic and pain and death and everything brutal in a single awful instant.

“PERCY!” His name has never sounded so full of agony, each syllable holds the stages of grief.

He is running towards the anguish before he’s even fully realises what’s going on. But what he sees when he crests the hill is enough to make the warmth of his heart run burning cold.

Annabeth is curled on the ground, tears like rivers of woe streaming down her cheeks and a purple flag clutched tightly in her fists.

“What happened?” His voice is soft. If he hears himself too loudly he’s going to shatter.

Annabeth cries harder, her whole body shuddering. Grief is overwhelming. Grief is all consuming. Grief will make itself known like thorns in your thumb or bullets in your heart.

“What happened?” He repeats.

And someone, far away, right next to his ear, inside his head, says, “It’s Jason, Jason Grace. He’s dead.”

He used to be nice.

It takes him three days. Three days of non-stop travelling, by foot, and air, and sea, to reach Caligula’s home. A palace. A grave. It is three days too long. Too long for a murderer to be walking free as if there are no consequences to his vile actions. But still he is here now and he will see the fall of a great, and watch how he bleeds just like everyone else. Not gold, the colour of the emperor’s one true love, but red, the colour of his victims.

Percy's eyes are almost black with violence, green so dark it reflects the night sky. His hands clench and unfurl as if practicing to wrap around a throat and squeeze till the symphony of breathing plays its last note. His body is strung taut, a bow string waiting to release. He is murder. He is nothing. He is your worst nightmare.

“Caligula.” He scrapes. It is the exact sound of a sword sparking against stone. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Nothing but scared silence greets him. He can feel the fear coating the walls of this burial ground like a fresh coat of paint. He will make a playground of the blood he spills, will invite all manner of creatures to use it as a park. He will revel in the slaughter he is about to participate in.

“Caligula!” His voice is the sharp edge of a small knife. Unassuming but deadly. ‘“It is no use hiding. There is no place you could go where I couldn't find you.” He feels the earth sway underneath him, and he grins. Oh this is going to be fun.

“Fine Emperor, if this is how you want to do it.”

With a shrug, he flings out an arm and turns three columns to dust. He watches the stone crumble, feels the sand on his palm as if he was crumbling the columns in his hands like soft cheese. With a small stomp of his foot a crack rivaling the river Thames splits the marble floor in half. The entire structure shudders, creaks right above him. His grin only gets wider, more dangerous.

“I will level this place to the ground. I will erase it from history as if it had never been. You will not exist Caligula, because you will go with it. Will be crushed under the weight of your own wealth.”

“You’re a fool,” A voice, reedy and nasalled in a way that has his soul curdling, shouts from somewhere on the far side of the room. “You will crush us both."

Percy laughs. He laughs and the sound widens the cracks in the floor. It is deep, and wild, but in the way a wild thing is caged: snapping at it’s bars, hissing to be free. He laughs.

“You are a fool Caligula. A fool if you think i am not willing to die if it means you suffer. A bigger fool still if you think it will not give me great pleasure to spend my last moments watching the life leave your eyes,”

The distant sound of bubbling starts to fill the room. Percy wonders if he can make blood boil. His mother has certainly said so enough times.

“Leave now half-blood,” The Emperor spits. There is still something of arrogant, misplaced bravery in his voice. It amuses Percy. “Leave now and you will not face the consequences.”

“And pray tell,” He contemplates, “Who you think will deliver your consequences if i leave?”

A scoff that echoes into the pathways of his brain comes from the back of the room. “I do not need consequences dealt. I have done nothing to deserve them.”

The sound of bubbling is getting louder. He looks curiously at the cracks still spidering around the room. “Ah Emperor,” He tuts, “That is where you are wrong. People who deserve consequences hardly ever get them. It is those who don’t think they deserve them that become the unlucky bearers.”

“What are you going on about, boy?” He snarls.

The bubbling is loud enough now that Percy almost checks to see if a small brook has carved its way through the floor. There is nothing there except ever growing cracks, turning to rifts and canyons before his eyes.

He used to be nice.

“We can do this one of two ways Caligula.” He starts, honey bees with a sting a little too sharp to be defence. “You can apologise and I’ll kill you quickly, or…” His smile is sickening. “And this is my preferred method, I could watch you die slowly, watch the life drain from your body and into the soil of blood-crops that will grow here, and your dying words will be the mercy you will inevitably beg for.”

The bubbling spills over the cracks, leaking salty water onto the dying marble floor.

“Better choose soon oh dear Emperor,” He giggles, “I am the only thing holding this room together. As soon as I let go the floor will split like your loyalties. You will be crushed to death by your own greed. And if that doesn't happen you will surely drown.” To emphasise his point water starts gushing from the floor, no longer a bubbling stream but a raging river. His laughter is carried along the ripples that hit the walls, already leaking with the all encompassing ocean. “Wouldn’t it be a pity Caligula? To drown in your own home, surrounded by all the things you killed for, watching as they drown with you?”

“Shut up half-blood,” He screeches, “You do not have the power it takes to kill me. You are nothing compared to the centuries I have been alive.”

“Do you know who i am honouring Caligula?” He asks softly, a stark and terrifying contrast to his smile a moment before. “In all your centuries can you remember but one demigod, a dear friend of mine, but just another victim of yours?”

“Does it matter?” He scoffs, “They are all the same in the end. All bleed, and cry, and piss, and die the same.”

The grin Percy lets loose starts hurricanes. It is the absolute wrong thing to say. ‘“If it is all the same to you Emperor,” He becomes terror. “Then i think i’ll spill your blood at his altar.”

And before the doomed emperor could react an invisible hand wraps around his throat and he was being dragged to the middle of the room. His eyes wide, popping out of his head; hands clawing at his neck as if trying to remove the grip they cannot feel; feet flopping helplessly underneath him.

“Apologise for killing Jason Grace.” It is a command.

Caligula glares, attempting to spit at his feet.

Percy tilts his head and with a single crook of his finger he slams the emperor into the wall. The crack is deafening. It makes him grin.

“Apologise for killing Jason Grace.”

Caligula produces an ancient roman gesture, passed through time as if centuries cannot dismantle the insults of humans.

Percy twists his wrist and the emperor’s body contorts into something unrecognizable, bones snapping and shattering to fit their new mold.

“Apologise for killing my friend.”

“Fuck you,” He manages to choke out.

A wave of ocean water alarming in its beauty rises behind him. He is its god. And with a wink he shoves all of it down the emperor’s throat. The column of that pale neck bobs as if attempting to take the water down. He can see the body trying to retch it all up, unable to handle the sheer amount, the salt that comes with it.

“Watch Caligula,” He motions to the palace sinking under the weight of his ocean, “Watch as everything you have ever cared to love drowns.”

Percy grabs a shard of mirror, uncaring of the gash it sweeps across his palm. He holds it up to the ancient powerful Emperor, who is convulsing into nothing. “Watch.”

He used to be nice.

Sometime later when Percy Jackson walks up a hill, and into the fading sun there is nothing but content mania lining his features, and behind him where a grand home once stood, is a trickling river and a single spear carved with the words, “Neo Helios”. The only sign that Caligula, Emperor and murderer, ever existed,

He used to be nice.

Until someone killed his friends.

---------------------------------------

[image id: printed text that reads, "I used to be nice." end id]

[juniorgman187]

Bratty (Spencer Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reid must supervise Camille, who makes Reid’s job anything but easy for him.

Category: Soft angst Couple: OCFem!Reader x Spencer Reid Word Count: 2.6k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

“You’re being ridiculous.” Camille huffed. 

“No - what I’m being is a good uncle.” Cruz retorted while handing Camille a jacket.

“It’s literally midnight!” 

“Exactly. I’m not leaving you alone this late at night.”

“You’re seriously gonna make me go all the way to Quantico with you right now?” 

“I won’t be able to leave work after I’m there. If you come with me, I can work and take care of you.” He explained.

“I’m an adult! I can take care of myself.”

Cruz completely dismisses this. “I already told JJ that you’re coming. She’s excited to see you again. You can meet the whole team, too.”

“If I go, will you please stop acting like I’m a child?”

“I can’t make any promises.” He shrugs.

Camille groans in mild frustration as she reluctantly readies herself to leave with her uncle for Quantico. 

As soon as Camille enters the BAU, she’s showered with love from JJ. 

“Hey, you! How are you holding up?”

“Well right now, I’m really wishing I didn’t give Uncle Matt a key to my apartment.” Camille quips.

“Yeah, maybe when he’s distracted I’ll grab his keys and remove yours.”

JJ’s joke makes Camille smile. JJ winks at Camille before turning away to talk to Matt. 

“How’s Elena?” Elena is Camille’s mother and Matt’s sister.

“Reception’s shoddy where she is, but when I drove her to the airport, she couldn’t be more excited. She’s always wanted to travel to an underdeveloped country and teach English as a second language. That’s why it wasn’t even a question if I would take care of Camille while she was away.”

“Good for her. I guess it runs in your blood to want to help people, huh?”

“No,no she’s more selfless than me. I can tell you that. She’s so patient with her students. Probably developed that skill when she had Camille. I love her to death, but kid’s feisty. Just like her mom when she was her age.”

JJ grimaces in preparation for a hard question she feels obligated to ask. “You know, it’s none of my business, but what’s Camille - 21, 22?”

“21.”

“I know you told Elena you’d watch her, but helicopter parenting her like she’s a teenager isn’t the way.”

“Forgive me if I’m not comfortable leaving her alone with a serial killer on the loose.”

This statement alone is enough to shut JJ down. On a lighter note, the team greets Camille. 

“Welcome. I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner.”

“Camille de la Vega. Nice to finally meet you.”

“You’ve met JJ. This is Agents Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, and David Rossi. She’s our technical analyst -  Penelope Garcia. And this is Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Camille goes down the line shaking everyone’s hands, but then she reaches Reid. 

“A doctor in the FBI?”

He corrects her instantaneously. “Not M.D. PHD. Three of them actually.  Chemistry, mathematics, and engineering.”

“Good to know.” She nods.

Camille extends her hand to shake his and everyone notices that he obliges. 

“Hey, Reid what’s with the handshake? I thought it was safer to kiss.” Morgan teases.

Camille shyly laughs. 

“Yeah, why the exception, kid?”

“Don’t listen to them.” Reid timidly tells Camille, making her grin from ear to ear. She’s already taken a particular liking to him. And from the looks of it, he’s done just the same. 

“Although I’d love to catch up with you, Camille, we have to start working immediately. Anderson will show you to your uncle’s office.” Hotch gestures towards Anderson who’s waiting in the doorway to lead Camille out of the round table room. 

. . .

Notably, the clock reads 4:10 a.m. Camille is reading a book at her uncle’s desk, when there’s a knock at the door. It’s Spencer. 

“Oh, hi. Did you need to grab something from his desk? I can move if you need me to.” She politely offers.

“No, no I actually came to bring you food. I thought you might be hungry.” 

Camille thanks him and accepts the paper bag of food. 

Reid notices she’s reading a book. “What are you reading?”

“Little Women.” Camille says, flashing the cover. 

“Have you read it before?”

“Mhm. It’s one of my favorites. Have you?”

“My mom read it to me when I was younger.”

Camille sees an opportunity to mess with him and takes it. “Wasn’t it crazy how Laurie set the March house on fire and all of them died?” 

Spencer furrows his brows in confusion. 

“I, um, I don’t remember that part.”

Camille immediately registers Reid’s discomfort. “I was just messing with you.” 

“Oh.” Spencer nods and forces a laugh. “I should, um, probably get back. Do you want anything before I go? Coffee, water, maybe?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

“Alright, I’ll be back to check on you.” Reid scrunches his lips into a small smile before closing the door behind him.  

As he makes his way back to the round table, he smiles so widely, that when Morgan passes him, he notices. 

“Stop it right there, Pretty Boy.”

Reid stops in his tracks. 

“Now turn around.”

Reid obeys. 

“Why do you look like a kid in a candy shop right now? What did I miss?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

For someone that studies behavior, he’s not too good at lying. Morgan sees right through Reid. 

“Come on, man. You can tell me.”

Penelope passes by. 

“Tell him what? Whatcha hiding, Boy Wonder?”

“Nothing. I’m not hiding anything.”

Morgan and Garcia look at him with skepticism. 

“Did you hear how his voice did that thing? His voice only gets that high when he’s lying.” Garcia notes.

Reid clears his throat to deliberately speak in a lower pitch. “No it doesn’t.”

Garcia squints her eyes at him. “What do you not want us to know?”

“Guys, seriously. It’s nothing.”

“Is this about Cruz’s niece?” Morgan asks, hitting the nail on the head. 

“Ooh, I knew something was fishy when you shook her hand.”

“It was just a handshake, okay?”

“Well, excuse me, but I’m having a hard time believing you.” Morgan cleverly retorts.  

“I don’t like her. If that’s what you’re implying.”

Morgan smirks. “Oh is that so? Then riddle me this Pretty Boy - where were you just now?”

Reid loosens his tie, feeling like it’s a noose. 

“Oh did you see that? His body language is speaking for itself. And it’s saying A LOT.” Garcia giggles.

“Go get em, tiger.” Morgan leaves Reid to his devices with a pat on his shoulder. 

“Shut up.”

. . . 

No longer reading, Camille is scanning her uncle’s shelves - looking at the pictures and the books, and opening and closing different cabinets or drawers in his desk. A knock on the door startles her. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just checking in. How are you?”

She frowns. “Incredibly bored. I finished my book like thirty minutes ago.”

Reid checks his watch. 

“How long was I gone?”

A small laugh leaves her lips. “I was basically at the end when you left.”

Reid’s lips shift to one side of his face as he thinks of something to help Camille out. “Um, I - I have newspapers. With, with crosswords on them. I can bring them to you.”

Reid rushes out of the room and comes back awfully quickly with a stack of newspapers. Camille laughs delightfully at the sight of them. 

“These are scans of ones I’ve already solved.”

“You’ve solved all of these? What are you? Some kind of genius?”

“I don’t believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified. But I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute.”

Camille is in awe. 

“Uh, yes, I’m a genius.”

“So what I’m hearing is, if I get stuck on a word, I could just ask you and you’d remember what the right answer was?”

“Kind of takes the fun out of solving it yourself, don’t you think?”

“Not if it means I get to see you again.”

Reid laughs uncomfortably. “Uh, so how will I know if you need help?”

“I’ll text you.”

“You don’t have my - Oh got it.”

Camille makes a face and hands him her phone to take. He makes a contact for himself and hands her back the phone. 

“Great. See you in an hour, Laurie.”

Reid’s caught off guard. 

“If I’m Laurie, are you Jo or Amy?”

“Well that depends. Am I the best friend or the love interest?” 

Reid raises his eyebrows in surprise. 

“I resonate more with Amy - if that’s what you were asking. I’m young and driven - like her.”

“I always thought Amy to be sort of a brat.”

"She knows what she wants. So do I.”

“Oh yeah? And what do you want?” This is a newfound display of confidence coming from the Doctor. It catches her by surprise. 

Camille doesn’t play into it, just to tease him. “What I want is for you and your team to catch this guy, so I can go home.”

“I should, uh, I should go back now. See you in an hour.”

“Looking forward to it.” She says sarcastically. 

. . .

Reid is working on the geographical profile when he feels his phone buzz. Without even needing to see it, he knows it’s Camille. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER: You’re late for your check in, Doctor. 

Reid looks at his watch. He’s only three minutes late. 

REID: Sorry, I’m busy. And you’re only supposed to text when you have a question. That wasn’t a question. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Fine, here's a question - when are you gonna make your hourly check in?

REID: A question pertaining to the crossword. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Los Angeles Times. 64 down. Clue is “Dr. Reid is late for his check in. When should he be expected?”

REID: The ‘Amy’ in you is showing. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER: The brat part of her or the love interest part of her?

REID: Former. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER: It’s fine. I can wait. Nowhere else I have to be anyway. 

REID: I’ll be there when I’m done.  

. . . 

Reid is walking through the hall and entering Cruz’s office. Camille works diligently on the crossword.

“Not so fast. You have to stop by the main office and get a tardy slip.” She quips.

“Funny. How’s the crossword?”

“I’ve finished two of them since you’ve been gone.”

Reid glances at his watch. “That doesn’t make any sense. The average time to finish a puzzle is 21 minutes. I’ve been gone for 88.”

"I got distracted.”

“Really? By what?”

Camille fights a smirk. “A little birdie who stopped by.”

Reid shakes his head and exasperates. He needn’t know more to figure out what she meant by this.

"Which one - Garcia or Morgan?”

"Does it matter?”

"What’d they say?”

"Enough.”

"Enough to?”

Camille gets up from the chair and walks around to the front of the desk. This places her right in front of Reid. This is the closest they’ve been yet. 

"Enough to let me know whether I’m the best friend or the love interest.”

Camille draws back and grabs her coat from off the chair. She puts it on.

"So who are you? Jo or Amy?”

"Don’t play coy. You know the answer. You are a genius after all.” 

Camille grabs her purse off the desk and begins to leave the office. 

“Where are you going? I thought you were supposed to leave?”

Camille exits the office and begins to walk into the hallway toward the elevator. The worried doctor follows close behind. 

"I’m going for a walk to a cafe. No offense, but I’m not a huge fan of the coffee you’ve got here. Plus, I could use the fresh air.”

"You shouldn’t leave. Especially not alone.”

"Not you, too. Come on. You know I’m not a target. From what I saw in your little conference room, all the victims are blonde. And unless I bleach my hair between here and the time I reach the sidewalk, I think I’ll be okay.”

"Are you at least going to let your Uncle know where you’re going?”

She shoots him a deadpan stare. “What would be the fun in that?”

Camille presses the button near the elevator. 

"Anderson can order coffee for you. He’ll bring it back here so you don’t have to leave.” Reid suggests. 

"Mmm, no thanks. I’m a big girl.”

The elevator door opens. 

“Are you sure about that? Because right now you’re acting like a -”

He hesitates. Camille steps into the elevator and turns on her heels so she can face him before the doors close. 

She provokes him. "Say it.”

"You’re acting like a brat!” 

"Oh I’m sorry - is my ‘Amy’ showing, Dr. Reid? Well, I am your love interest after all - Laurie.”

Camille winks and the doors close. Reid lets out a frustrated sigh and shakes his head and he begins to jog to the stairwell. With speed and caution he only exhibits when trying to apprehend an unsub, he flies down the stairs. His slender figure can’t support this kind of cardio, but nonetheless, he runs. 

When he finds himself in the parking garage, just beside the elevator, he sees Camille several feet away, walking out of the structure completely. He runs as fast as his feet can take him. Eventually he reaches her before she’s on the main sidewalk. 

"Camille, wait!”

He’s breathless and red. Camille walks back over to him with a devilish grin. 

"Did you actually just run all the way here?”

"What gave me away?”

This earns a hearty laugh from Camille. 

"I’m coming with you.” He breathlessly explains.

"Why didn’t you say so earlier? Would’ve saved you the marathon.” 

"Yeah, yeah, be quiet.”

“Swallow your pride. Occasionally, it’s not fattening.”

“Frank Tyger. Touché.”

She’s even more impressed at his knowledge of the quote she recited. This makes her more keen to starting an actual dialogue with him instead of just provoking him. 

“So why’d they leave you behind?” She asks. 

“They didn’t leave me behind. I just choose not to go. I’m notorious for being prone to gunshot wounds, so I choose to stay where I know I’ll be safe. What about you? Why’d Cruz bring you to the office?”

"For the same reason you stayed back. He wants me somewhere I’ll be safe.”

"You’re a little old for a babysitter, don’t you think?”

“You would think, but Uncle Matt has this gift where every time he looks at me, he still sees his helpless 8 year old niece.”

“What happened when you were 8?”

Camille doesn’t even realize what she might’ve accidentally revealed. “Freudian slip. Nothing you need to worry about.”

"You sure?”

“All you need to know is that what happened to me motivated him to work in the field. Ever since then he’s been working to get to the top.”

"So how old are you anyway, little woman?”

"Oh, is that my nickname now? An outright juxtaposition of “big girl” and a reference to the book?”

"Mhm.”

"21.” 

"Wow, you really are a little woman.” 

"Better than being an old man.”

“Old man? I’m 32.”

"My point exactly.” 

"You’re welcome by the way. For doing this.” He adds.

"Oh please, I didn’t ask you to walk me to the cafe.” 

“But you wanted me to.”

"Oh wow, you know about reverse psychology. Congrats you’re with the other 98% of the population that does too. Don’t act like you’re doing me a favor. You wouldn’t have followed me if you didn’t want to come.”

"What I want is for you to be safe.” 

"Like I said before, I don’t fit the victimology. He has a type and it’s not me. I’m fine going by myself.”

"You know something? You’re really stubborn. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Aww, I’m so hurt. Boo hoo.” She sarcastically remarks.

“You think you can be just a little bit nicer to me? I am babysitting you after all.” 

Camille halts. 

“I’m gonna ignore the babysitting part, but yes, I can be nice, but right now, I’ve spent 6 hours cooped up in my uncle’s office bored out of my mind.”

"So what? You’re only toying with me because you’re bored and I’m your only entertainment?”

“Oh congrats! You finally figured it out, genius.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

[angelinasway]

Regaining Hope

Pairing: Clark Kent/Buffy Summers

Warnings/Triggers:Torture, Violence, Mention's of Major Character Death, Bad Language, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut

Summary: Takes place during Man of Steel. When Buffy discovers the U.S Military trying to keep quiet about an object buried in a twenty thousand year old glacier, she immediately thinks the worst. However, when a surprise visit to the Canadian Arctic puts her in the path of a mysterious stranger her whole world is changed forever.

[TTH] [AO3] [FFN]

Authors Notes: Thank you all for your amazing reviews. You guys have been inspiring. I'm gonna add one more warning to this story because I got a review on FFN that makes me feel I need too. Even though It's a warning that I never knew I would need to put considering who we're talking about here. So here it is, there is Angelus bashing in this. I'm trying to keep my biased about Angel to a minimum, but I wasn't aware that Angelus needed a disclaimer too, so there it is. As for this chapter, there will be a lot to unpack here. I'm also going with the idea that one of Clark's weaknesses is magic, so keep that in mind as you read this. Thank you guys again so much, your kind words have really helped me keep focused on the story, I truly do appreciate each and everyone who took the time to review. Thanks for giving this a chance I hope you all enjoy reading. Also thank you to my wonderful beta Hipkarma for giving this chapter a look for me. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Two

 It took Buffy less than a minute to find the recently constructed tunnel. It wasn’t snowing and she easily found a set of large footprints heading along a rocky ledge. The glacial ice was still steaming from whatever had been used to cut through it when she found the opening. The edges were smoothed as if a giant heated drill had ground and melted the ice into nothing. There were hardly any puddles to speak of, and it was quite clear that whatever did this, wasn't done by any machine that she knew of on Earth. In fact, if she had been dealing with anything else she would have immediately thought this was some sort of magic. Though to be fair, she still wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t.

  "Why do I have a feeling I'm going to regret this?" She grumbled quietly, as she stepped inside and slowly made her way through the frozen tunnel.

  Her breath came out in large puffs of fog, adrenaline masking the cold she should be feeling. Luckily, there was just enough light to make out where she was going with her enhanced vision. It was a slow journey, but when she finally reached the opening, she gasped in awe. ‘Oh yeah, this thing is definitely out of this world. It’s absolutely massive, still partially covered in thousands of years of hard ice.’

  She noticed a ramp leading onto the ship dripping with recently melted ice and cautiously followed it up. She stepped onto the glass-like metal flooring of the hull and noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned in time to see a strange looking floating creature moving into her periphery.

  She froze. It looked way too much like a facesucker for her comfort zone. She took a step back, tossed her pack and dropped into a defensive stance before reaching behind her to unsheathe her scythe. The mouth, or body, or whatever the hell it was, started to open and she stepped back even further.

  "Dammit, I hate it when I'm right." She muttered.

  So focused on its head, she wasn’t paying attention when the next second its spike like tail whipped out slicing deeply into the side of her abdomen. Buffy cried out in surprised pain, feeling the unmistakable sensation of hot and sticky blood soaking through her shirt and down the leg of her jeans. She stumbled backward, but was able to keep her footing even as the thing tried to swipe at her again.

  Her eyes narrowed at the thing. “All right, now you’ve really pissed me off,” she growled. The pain of her injury taking a back seat to her need to survive.

  It screeched at her, attempting to swipe at her again. She dodged its attack, rolling right underneath of it and coming up with a full powered swing of her scythe, only with the wrong side. The flat end made contact, the thing slamming hard into the inner wall of the ship. It screeched again, as sparks flew from it and her eyes widened in realization.

  “It’s a robot,” she murmured in surprise.

  It came at her again, this time shooting some sort of blue ball of energy at her. She dodged, flipping away from it to create enough distance so she could charge the thing. Maybe take it by surprise. She never got the chance however, because by the time she had turned back around, her mystery man was already there and had the droid between his large hands. He struggled with it for a minute and Buffy stepped forward ready to help him when the metal suddenly gave under his assault. His hands crushed the droid like a soda can and he threw what was left aside, it crashing into the wall of the ship with a loud bang.

  They stared at each other a long time. Man, she really hoped he wasn’t evil because right now with the injury she was sporting there was absolutely no way she could fight him. Especially, with the show of strength he just performed. The reminder of said injury brought back the pain in full and she shakily slid to her knees, scythe falling from her hand.

  "Thanks," she breathed gratefully, her eyes falling shut as she used her hand to stem off the blood flow as best she could.

  "You're welcome." He said, the deep baritone of his voice making her shiver. She felt him move closer, before he added, "You're hemorrhaging, the droid nicked your abdominal artery."

  Buffy nodded, wincing as she used one hand to undo her belt and slide it through the loops in her jeans. "I know." She said shakily. "Not exactly my first rodeo."

  She felt him move closer still, crouching down in front of her. Her trembling hands trying to clumsily wrap her belt around her torso so she could stop the bleeding.

  "I could cauterize the wound for you, if you'd like." He said quietly, worry lacing his voice.

  Buffy finally managed to put the end through the loop in that moment, and yanked the belt tight. She fell backwards, her back hitting the cold metal wall. She whimpered as tears of pain filled her eyes, breathing slowly through her nose until the pain began to ebb away. When she finally could speak again, she met his eyes, a small smile gracing her lips at the concern she saw in them. "Thank you,” she said sincerely, “but it’s not necessary, I heal fast." She must have lost more blood than she thought however, because her next words surprised even herself. "Just need to slowdown the bleeding so my Slayer healing kicks in. Don't want to end up a corpse on your floor for the next nine hours."

  He immediately frowned in confusion, "I don't understand?"

  Buffy chuckled humorlessly, "Yeah..." She coughed, grimacing at the taste of blood in her mouth. “Neither do I.” She sighed, and changed the subject, not really wanting to go there at the moment. “Gotta name, or do I just need to keep referring to you as handsome stranger in my head.” ‘Okay, yep, I definitely lost too much blood.’

  He looked away at her words, partially because he seemed to be genuinely shy and partially because he seemed torn on answering her. She could relate to that. She understood what it was like to need to hide who you were from people. She was never very good at it, but she remembered very clearly the fear of what people would think of her if they knew she was a superhuman freak.

  “Hey,” She said, reaching a hand out to place on his arm. Thinking better of it when she noticed the blood coating it. “It’s okay, I get it.” He looked up, meeting her eyes and she shrugged. “I was never very good at the secret identity gig, but I certainly remember what it was like to need to hide who I was.” She chuckled, “Believe it or not, the U.S Government thought the Slayer was a myth until I caught them playing in my backyard.”

  “I still don’t know what that is.” He said quietly, “A Slayer, I mean. I tried finding out from Jed, but all he said was that you work for an organization that hunts and kills monsters.” He paused, taking a deep breath, before asking. “Am I the type of…Do you kill people like me?”

  He was being serious. She knew. But she couldn’t help messing with him a little. The truth of the matter was, she had no intention of going head-to-head with him even if she was at her best. If he was truly evil he would have acted already, especially with her weakened state. She also doubted he would have offered to help her heal or look quite as worried for her safety as he did.

  She put her most serious face on and pretended to contemplate it for a minute. “Hmm, well you’ll probably need to pass my required oral exam to be sure.” Her eyes suddenly widened at what that must have sounded like, especially after the handsome comment. ‘Okay, this is the last time I’m losing this much blood in front of a hot guy and not just letting myself bleed out. Apparently, I really don’t know how to shut up when I’m this anemic.

  She noticed his cheeks reddening and the look of shock on his face, so she blurted out the first question that came to mind. “Do you eat babies?”

  A horrified look of disgust quickly replaced the shocked look, “What? No!”

  “Do you like to bathe in the blood of the innocent?” She could tell by the suddenly offended look on his face that he still hadn’t caught on that she was messing with him.

  “No!” he said, an irritated frown marring his face.

  “Do you worship any deities that require you to make a human sacrifice yearly, biyearly, monthly, bimonthly, weekly, or biweekly?” Now he just looked annoyed, and it was getting harder for Buffy to keep a straight face.

  “Are these questions actually necessary?” He asked, the annoyance clear in his voice.

  An amused smile broke across her face, “Are you asking if these things actually exist, or if I actually think you do any of them?”

  His look of annoyance quickly melted into one of amusement, the corner of his mouth turning up and a soft look coming into his blue eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you before,” He admitted. His eyes roaming over her face. He seemed to come to a decision in that moment, because his next words were, “My name…my real one, it’s Clark.”

  “Clark,” Buffy repeated, testing the name on her tongue. A small smile playing at her lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a Clark before.” Her eyes studied his face. “It suits you. I would tell you my name, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess you already know it." She gestured with her chin. "And judging by the way your eyes keep seemingly monitoring my injury and heart rate, I'm guessing you have some kind of enhanced vision." She grinned at his stunned look, and shrugged. "So, let's see," she held up her hand counting off what his superpowers were, "Enhanced vision," she held up a finger. "Super strength," she held up another. "Those are two of the five senses." A third finger came up, "Enhanced hearing is probably the third." She frowned in thought for a moment, before saying, "Though you don’t strike me as someone who needs to stalk his prey, I’m betting you have that annoying ability to smell everything even if you don’t need to use it. So that’s four.”

  Clark slipped down to where he was fully seated, blinking in surprise. "How…?” He swallowed, shaking his head an impressed look coming over his face. “Did anyone ever tell you, you're incredibly observant?"

  "Kinda have to be in my line of work.” She shrugged, adding, “Though you did set off my spidey senses like a roman candle. A girl can’t really help but take notice when you register in the beyond-godlike-powerful status.” At his confused and worried look, she elaborated. “It’s part of the whole Slayer package, basically a long time ago a bunch of shamans used the essence of a demon to create a warrior. They chained a young girl to the earth and imbued her with it so she would have the strength and skill to fight all the wonderful things that go bump in the night.” She sighed, “For a long time there was only one girl at a time. One dies, another is called. That’s how it worked.” She gave him a small smile and nodded, “Until about ten years ago that is, me and some friends changed the rules.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes for a moment. “So, there you have it, Clark. I’m the longest living One girl in all the world with the gift and skill to fight the vampires, the demons, and forces of darkness. Except, I’m not the only one anymore.”

  He blinked in surprise, studying her face more closely. “How old are you?”

  Buffy bit her lip, not quite sure how to answer that without bringing up her resurrection. She sighed meeting his eyes, there wasn’t much she could do about it now, “Thirty-two.”

  Clark sucked in a breath of surprise, “How is it that you—”

  “Haven’t aged since I was twenty-one,” Buffy finished for him. When he nodded, she avoided his eyes while saying, “That’s kinda what happens when your friends resurrect you with a powerful spell and screw up the balance between good and evil.” She shrugged looking anywhere but at his face, that old familiar longing for heaven playing at her soul. She loved Willow. She really did, and after the whole Angelus incident they had grown much closer than they’d been in years. The resurrection and the price that Buffy was still paying however, was far too great to ever fully forgive. “Long story short, I can’t age anymore and if I die, I can’t stay dead.”

  She coughed, the pain of the act making her vision narrow a bit. She could feel that her body was well on its way to mending itself but she had lost way too much blood. The familiar fogginess of a healing sleep was prickling her eyes and she widened them shaking her head to try and clear it. Cold dread filling her at the very thought of falling into a coma like sleep and having to relive all the crap she’s been through. It was one of the most horrifying feelings ever, to be trapped in her worst nightmares with no means of escape until her body fully healed. In a desperate attempt to keep herself awake she reached out and grasped Clark’s hand.

  ****<S>**<S>****

  Clark watched her eyes widen in fear, before she reached out with a bloody hand to grasp his. “Please,” She pleaded. “Please don’t let me fall asleep.” He could see the beginning of tears of desperation prickling her eyes, “I know I need to, but…but sometimes it’s worse than dying.” She sighed and leaned her head back against the ship hull. "It’s...it’s okay if you can't. Just...just try."

  He squeezed her hand, his heart filling with so much sympathy for this brave young woman. She hadn’t shown any true fear until this moment. Not when she had fought the drone, not when she watched him destroy it, not even when she was binding her own wound and already figured out a few of his abilities. She had even made a few jokes at his expense, but she had done them in such a way that he couldn't really take offense. She was an enigma to him; out of all the humans he'd ever met—besides his own parents, she had to be the least judgmental of them all. The only thing that seemed to truly scare her was her own memories, and that truly did break his heart. No one should be that afraid of their own past.

  “How do you want me to help?” He whispered, as he watched her eyes begin to droop before flying open again.

   “Tell me about yourself.” She whispered, her words coming out a bit slurred. “W-where are you from? How long have you been on Earth?”

  He shifted, getting more comfortable before saying. “I grew up in Kansas, in a little town called Smallville. Beyond that, I don’t actually know. My ship landed on my parent’s farm when I was just a baby. They took me in and raised me as their own.” He told her a little bit more, about the farm, about some of the life lessons his dad tried to instill in him, why he was afraid of anyone finding out what he was, why he was on this ship in the first place.

  Buffy smiled dreamily and hummed, “Sometimes I forget there’s still good people in the world. Sounds to me like you got really lucky with who found you.” She yawned, her words becoming more slurred. “Once I’m healed, I can help you look for answers.”

  He blinked in surprise, a grateful smile coming on his lips “Thank you.” He said sincerely, adding, “And I did, my dad could be pretty hard on me at times, but—”

  “He was scared of anyone finding out what you are.” She finished, her voice growing softer and more distant. He squeezed her hand lightly and her eyes flew open as she shook her head again trying to force the sleep away. She continued, as if she hadn’t almost just lost consciousness. “Must have been pretty lonely, not having anyone to confide in.”

  “It was.” He agreed quietly, his eyes scanned her brain activity and seeing she was quickly losing her battle against sleep, he added, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to keep you awake much longer.”

  She smiled sadly, her eyes drooping to mere slits. “I know, worth a try though.” She sighed through her teeth. “Just do me a favor, don’t…don’t let me wake up alone. It’s worse w-when I–”

  She never finished, as her body and mind finally succumbed to a much-needed rest. Her heartrate dropped to what would be considered dangerous for a normal human. The blood slowing in her veins and allowing for the natural healing process that came with her abilities.

  He watched her for a long time. Too afraid to move for fear that if he left her side her heart would suddenly stop. Oh, he knew what she told him was the truth. It was just difficult for someone like him to believe. Spending most of your life being different and watching people die. Knowing you could do something but unable to for fear of the world finding out what you really are. It made him feel helpless more times than not. 

  Clark had spent a long time picking his battles. Deciding who to save based off of his ability to get away with it. He hated not being able to help everyone, and he hated even more that humans as a whole were so easily guided by their fears of the unknown.  It was more than that though, there was so much pain and suffering. He could hear it even now if he focused. Screams, cries for help that nobody heeded, laughing cruelty and hysterical sobbing. It was all there, the sounds of the world were filled with so much hate, anger, and sadness it was deafening.

  Maybe that’s why he was so taken with this beautiful girl in front of him. She didn't seem to possess the fears that so many of the people of this world did. The fact that she knew what he was and hadn't so much as blinked in surprise completely threw him. He knew it most likely was due to the life she lived and what she was, but it was such a refreshing moment. He reached out with his free hand and brushed a loose blonde strand away from her cheek. She was also incredibly sad and lonely. It was as plain as day in her eyes and on her face. She was worn down by whatever she had been through to the point that he imagined she tried not to sleep. The dark circles he could see under her eyes attested to that much.

  He scanned her injury again, relieved to see the artery had healed almost completely. He sighed and let his eyes wander for the first time since he noticed she was hurt, spotting a discarded backpack near the entrance of the ship. He frowned, scanning its contents before rolling his eyes in annoyance. There was a first aid kit inside. ‘Why didn’t she tell him?’

  Clark retrieved the pack and proceeded to dress her wound as best he could, disinfecting then using gauze and medical tape to secure a makeshift bandage. He undid the belt across her torso, no longer worried about her bleeding out.

  He noticed her discarded weapon next. The strange looking axe he had seen in her travel bags. A child like curiosity he didn’t even know he still possessed came over him and he picked it up. It was surprisingly light and well balanced, the end of the handle itself was cleverly carved into a stake. He swung it a few times, smiling to himself at the way it easily sliced through air. He ran his finger gently along the blade and hissed in surprise, dropping the axe and taking several steps back, staring at the blade in a mixture of horrified disbelief. Blood welled up in the cut in his finger and he couldn’t help but study the red substance in fascination. He looked from the small cut to the axe several times, not quite processing what just happened.

  “There is an energy source unknown to the Kryptonian Archives imbedded into the elements of the weapon.” A new voice spoke from behind Clark.

  He quickly turned, coming face to face with an older man wearing robes. “Who…who are you?”

  “There will be time for that later Kal El. First, we must get you and your friend away from human meddling. We’ve much to discuss.”

  The man disappeared the next instant and Clark heard the engines fire on. He reached for the pack, throwing it over his shoulder. He picked Buffy up next hoisting her into his arms and grabbing her weapon at the same time. He didn’t really like the idea of it being near him considering what it was capable of, but he didn’t think she would like to wake without it nearby.

    ****<S>**<S>****

  She was on the tower again. 

  "Dawnie listen, listen to me. I love you. I will always love you, but this is the work that I have to do. Tell Giles... tell him I figured it out and...and that I'm okay. Give my love to my friends. You have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each other. You have to be strong." Buffy reached out her hand cupping her sister cheek, tears welling in her eyes. "Dawn the hardest thing in this world...is to live in it. Be brave. Live...for me" 

  She turned running, not giving her sister another chance to object, and as she dove off the platform another voice penetrates her mind.

  "I am your father Kal. Or at least a shadow of him. His consciousness."

  Another voice, this one more familiar to her. "And Kal? That's my name?"

  *FLASH*

  She couldn’t breathe, everything smelt of decay and earth. She cried out in fear, paper thin skin breaking on hands as they assaulted her tomb. Satin tore as ragged nails snagged, wood splintered as her hands scrabbled for an escape, any escape. Dirt and soil rained down on her and she cried out again, choking and gagging as her mouth filled with the substance. She had to get out, had to push through. If she didn’t, she would never get out. She climbed, pushing through packed earth with strength. Strength, she remembered, she had strength. Always meant to be strong. Not allowed to break, because breaking means death.

  The voice was back, the one from before, or was it after. She didn't know. She listened; it was easier to listen than to think of where she was. To remember the truth. She broke the surface, vomiting on the ground and squeezed her eyes shut forcing herself to listen to the voices, both of them soothing and quiet.

  “You came from Krypton. A world with a much harsher environment than Earth’s. Long ago, in an era of expansion, our race spread out through the stars, seeking new worlds to settle upon. This scout ship was one of thousands launched into the void. We built outposts on other planets, using great machines to reshape environments to our needs. For one hundred thousand years our civilization flourished, accomplishing wonders”.

  “What happened?

  “Artificial population control was established. The outposts and space exploration were abandoned. We exhausted our natural resources, as a result our planet’s core became unstable. Eventually our military leader, General Zod, attempted a coup. But by then it was too late. Your mother and I foresaw the coming calamity, and we took certain steps to ensure your survival.”

  Mommy, she had a mommy once. Her eyes opened focusing on her headstone and she screamed.

  *FLASH*

  She walked into the living room and froze. Her mom was on the couch unmoving, eyes opened. She remembered this. Her legs carried her over to the couch, but she didn’t panic, not like before. She fell to her knees grasping her mother’s cold hand. Tears welled in her eyes as she studied the lifeless face. “I’m so sorry mommy.” She whispered. “I should have been here. I’m so sorry.”

  “Why don’t you put her in one of the resting chambers.” A voice said, causing Buffy to turn away from her mother’s body. Her eyes searching for the source.

  “She asked me not to leave her alone.” A familiar voice replied. Why did she know that voice?

  “Very well.”

  *FLASH*

   There was a leaky pipe somewhere in the factory. She could hear the drip…drip…drip as she stared in shock at what her own hands had done. The mutilated vampire on the table was barely alive. She had made sure that she had taken everything from him but his heart. She wanted to save that for last.

   Her hands began to tremble in fear of herself, the blade she’d been using to carve him up slipping from her grasp. She stumbled over to the table on weak legs, reaching behind her and pulling out her stake.

  “I guess you won after all.” She whispered, before driving it deep into his heart.

  When the dust settled, she fell to her knees and vomited, unable to move. The voices were back and she closed her eyes trying to focus on the words.

  “This is a Genesis Chamber. All Kryptonians were conceived in chambers such as this. Every child was designed to fulfill a predetermined role in our society; as a worker, a warrior, a leader and so on. Your mother and I believed Krypton lost something precious, the element of choice, of chance. What if a child dreamed of becoming something other than what society had intended for him or her? What if a child aspired to something greater? You were the embodiment of that belief, Kal, Krypton’s first natural birth in centuries. That’s why we risked so much to save you.”

  “Why didn’t you come with me?”

  “We couldn’t, Kal. No matter how much we wanted to, no matter how much we loved you. Your mother Lara and I were a product of the failures of our world as much as Zod was. We were tied to its fate.”

  “So, I’m alone.”

  Alone, just like her.

  *FLASH*

  She couldn’t move. All she could do was stare. Her Watcher was dead, his neck bent at an odd angle. Her legs went out on her and she fell to the ground as the sounds of battle played out around her.

  “Buffy!” A familiar voice called; one she hadn’t heard in a long time. “Buffy, love, we gotta go.”

  “But…but Giles?” She whispered weakly.

  “I know Slayer, I know.” He sighed sadly, as he reached down and hauled her to her feet. “But he’s already gone. We can’t help him anymore. We need to get out of here, Red set the whole place ablaze.”

  She looked up meeting bright blue eyes, “Spike?” She asked in confusion, before an arrow pierced her back.

  *FLASH*

  They were trapped. The wards broken enough to smoke them out, but not enough for them to leave.

  “I’m not leaving you!” She argued.

  “Bloody hell, why do you have to be the most difficult chit in the bloody universe! We don’t know if you can even survive fire and I’m sure as hell not risking it!” Spike yelled.

  “Well, I know you can’t survive fire so I sure as hell am not leaving you to die alone!” She snarled. “We did this already, remember!”

  He roared in frustration, kicking a nearby chair into the wall and it shattered into kindling. “I won’t let you die!”

  “You don’t have a choice!” She fired back.

  He stared at her in disbelief, before his expression melted into passionate rage. “The hell I don’t!” And then he grabbed her by the shoulders and smashed his lips against hers.

   It only took a few seconds for her to respond and she melted into him. Her mouth opening, tongues caressing. She moaned, bringing him closer to her, remembering their dance, missing it.

  He pulled away with a gasp, both of them panting for breath. “Now you listen to me! I love you; do you hear. I never stopped and never will. I will not watch you die. So, if today is my day to die, I’ll be damned if he gets to choose how.” And then he was kissing her again.

  Unbeknownst to her he activated her emergency portal. The one that only allowed Slayers to travel through. He walked her backwards, without breaking contact and before she realized it, they were both inside. She pulled back in shock as she realized where they were. The familiar feeling of being sucked into nothing filling her. She screamed as she felt him dust.

  *FLASH*

  The abandoned home smelt like old urine and vomit, but she was much too tired and weak to care. She didn’t remember the last time she ate or drink anything, not that it really mattered. She was starting to become convinced she couldn’t die this way. It didn’t matter though, nothing did. She was a monster, just like her prey. Make a monster to fight a monster, that’s what the shaman did.

  She was filthy, her hair greasy and limp, her eyes dull and lost, dirt coated her face and hands. What was the point of life if all it ever caused you was pain? She just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up, or maybe just melt into the disgusting mattress she was laying on and forget that life existed. She had lost all hope, in fact she didn’t remember the last time she felt it. Had she ever? She heard the voices again, focusing in, trying to pull herself out of this pit of despair.

  “No. You are as much a child of earth now as you are of Krypton. You can embody the best of both worlds. A dream your mother and I dedicated our lives to preserve. The people of earth are different than us, it’s true. But ultimately, I believe that’s a good thing. They won’t necessarily make the same mistakes we did. Not if you guide them, Kal. Not if you give them hope. That’s what this symbol means. The symbol of the house of El means hope. Embodied within that hope is the fundamental belief in the potential of every person to be a force for good. That’s what you can bring them. You will give the people of earth an ideal to strive towards. They will race behind you, they will stumble, they will fall. But in time, they will join you in the sun, Kal. In time, you will help them accomplish wonders.”

  Buffy clung on to the words, trying to pull herself free from the dream. A man of hope, a symbol of goodness. She needed that, she desperately needed goodness and hope. She was close to breaking through the surface.

  She heard Clark–now she remembered his voice, “Why am I so different from them?”

  “Earth’s sun is younger and brighter than Krypton’s was. Your cells have drunk in its radiation, strengthening your muscles, your skin, your senses. Earth’s gravity is weaker, yet its atmosphere is more nourishing. You’ve grown stronger here than I ever could imagine. The only way to know how strong is to keep testing your limits.”

  ****<S>**<S>****

  Buffy awoke with a gasp, her hands scrambling against the chest she was nestled against. The memories of her past still playing out in technicolor and surround sound.

  "Hey, hey," A soothing voice said, gently lowering her to her feet. "It's okay, you're okay."

  She stumbled away. Her eyes still not able to focus. The trembling in her limbs causing her to fall on all fours. She dry-heaved as a broken sob tore from her lips. She felt a warm hand gently rub her back, and she closed her eyes enjoying the comforting feeling.

  "Will she be alright?” A new voice asked, the one from her dream.

  “I don’t know.” She heard Clark answer, panic clear in his voice. “Buffy are you okay?”

  "No," She answered, swallowing back another sob, breathing slowly through her nose. "But I will be, just…just give me a minute."

  Just then a swirling portal opened up and an incredibly pissed off Witch in straight up Eskimo attire stepped out. She took one look at the blood covering Buffy and the distressed look on her face and came to a completely wrong conclusion. Her eyes went black and she snarled, “What the hell did you do to my friend, you son of a bitch!”

  “No!” Buffy shouted as purple tendrils of magic shot from her friend’s fingers, hitting Clark square in the chest and knocking him on his back. He groaned in pain rolling onto his side in a fetal position. Buffy was up the next instant, charging Willow and breaking the spell.

  “No Wills,” She panted grabbing ahold of her friend. “He’s a friendly.”

  Her friend’s angry eyes faded back to green and she turned on Buffy, breaking her hold. “A friendly,” She said lowly, her eyes narrowing. “A friendly! So, what, you meet tall dark and powerful over there and think, ‘Oh, wouldn’t it be a great idea to fly away with him in a spaceship to the North Pole?’ Do you have any idea how worried we were?”

  Buffy frowned in confusion, “The North Pole? Fly?” She turned and looked at Clark in bewilderment. “You flew the ship?”

  He shook his head, slowly getting back to his feet. “No,” He said, his voice coming out strained.

  “I’m afraid, that was my idea.” A fatherly gentleman in robes said. “I didn’t want the people of Earth to commandeer the ship. I did not realize you had other methods of finding us.”

  “Most humans don’t.” Buffy agreed, moving to check and see how hurt Clark was. “Willow’s special.”

  She ran her hands down Clark’s chest looking for any serious damage. Thankful when she could find none. “You okay?” She asked him quietly, at his nod, she sighed. “Sorry about that. I have over protective friends.”

  His lips quirked, “I noticed.” His eyes sparkled a bit. “It’s kind of funny actually. I’ve gone my whole life thinking nothing could hurt me physically and after just a few hours of meeting you, I find two things. That crazy looking axe of yours and as it turns out, your friend.”

  Buffy’s eyes widened in disbelief at his words. “Wait, go back. Like nothing?”

  He shrugged, “I had an oil rig fall on me once while I was rescuing some people. It managed to knock me out.”

  Okay, so not just superstrength, more like godlike strength. She suspected as much with the vibes she got off of him, but it was still almost too much to believe. “Define what an oil rig falling on you means?” She said a bit light headed from the thought of just how strong that could be.

  He cleared his throat, looking at the ground bashfully. “Well, it was on fire and the workers were trapped. Fire doesn’t hurt me, so I was able to get to them and get through the steel door they had locked themselves behind. I got them out and onto the helicopter, when the tower started to collapse. I was able to hold it up long enough for them to get away before the steel melted and the whole thing came down on top of me.”

  Buffy looked at him in absolute wonder. “That’s…Holy shit!”

  “Wait,” Willow swallowed, her face losing color. “Did this happen last year?”

  “Yeah,” Clark said, eyeing Willow suspiciously.

  “Oh Gods, I think I may have just attacked the Power’s new Champion.” Willow breathed, looking like she might actually faint.

  Buffy frowned in confusion, “Wills, what are you talking about?”

  Willow swallowed, looking suspiciously guilty. “About a year and a half ago me and Wes were digging through the old archives. We…we stumbled on a prophecy, a…a prophecy about a Champion. It said he will have the powers of a god with the soul of a man, but he will be neither.” Her eyes met Clark’s. “We came looking for you after we heard about the oil rig, we umm…Well, we were going to offer you a job, see if you were the real deal.” She shook her head, “But you had already disappeared.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Buffy asked, her eyes moving between Clark’s stunned expression and Willow’s nervous one. ‘How could they keep something like that from me?’

  If anything, Willow looked even more guilty now. A sure sign that Buffy was not going to be pleased with her next words. “We umm,” Willow fidgeted with the sleeves of her coat, not meeting Buffy’s eyes. “We decided not to tell you because you…well, umm…you’re kinda in it too.”

  “What the hell, Willow!” Buffy reeled as if slapped. “And you didn’t think telling me was a good idea?”

  “W-we wanted to be sure. A-and there’s some other stuff in there. Stuff we thought might seriously wig you.” Willow said nervously.

  Buffy raised an eyebrow, not at all impressed with the explanation. “Such as?”

  At that moment a look of relief crossed Willow’s face, and she clicked on her headset. “Wesley, yeah, no she’s fine. Look–” But she never finished what she was going to say because Buffy marched over and ripped the earpiece out of her ear none to gently. “What are you…ow!”

  Buffy turned and stared at Clark. The poor guy looked all sorts of confused. “Wesley,” She began sweetly. “Mind telling me what this lovely prophecy is about, and why you felt the need to keep it from me?”

  There was a long silence on the other end of the line, before an irritated sigh reached her ears. “I’m not sure this the appropriate time–”

  “The hell it’s not!” She barked. “That guy you and Willow were secretly looking for last year is standing right in front of me.”

  There was another long silence, before he sighed again. “So, it’s happened then.”

  “What’s happened? What the hell is going on?” She ground out, getting really fed up with the cryptic.

  “Look Buffy, I promise to explain when you get here.” He paused, “But in the meantime I have both the U.S Government and Canadian Parliament threatening to go to war with us if they don’t find out what the hell happened to you and that spaceship.”

  She groaned in frustration, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Shit!”

  “My sentiments exactly.” He replied sarcastically.

  “Okay,” She started pacing back and forth. “Okay, this is what were gonna do. Get Willow some coords in between here and the camp, preferably closer to the camp. Make it rural enough that any search and rescue they sent out could have easily missed it. Willow will port me there and we’ll leave evidence that I was dumped there.” She looked at Willow, who nodded in agreement. “I’m covered in enough DNA to make it plausible anyway–”

  “Are you alright?” Wesley cut in; the brotherly worry strong in his voice.

  “I’m fine Wes,” She sighed. “There was a security droid on the ship that wasn’t too happy with me boarding armed. Besides losing a lot of blood and a bout of crappy memories, I’m peachy with a side of keen.” She immediately noticed Willow’s kicked puppy look and rolled her eyes. Oh, that ever present black mark on their friendship. Always there but never talked about.

  Wesley cleared his throat changing the subject, because that’s how the modern day Scoobies dealt with her immortality. Not that she blamed him. He’d been an outsider when she had been brought back. He hadn’t understood the extent of the damage Willow had caused until much later and even then, he didn’t understand. None of them could know what she’d lost. “It’s a sound plan, Buffy.” He paused, before asking, “And this mystery man of yours, do you think you can get him to come with you?”

  Buffy met Clark’s wary eyes and shook her head. “I’ll talk to him, but I’m not forcing him into anything.”

  “Of course,” Wesley agreed.

  Buffy handed the earpiece back to Willow and approached Clark. “So, umm…I guess this is goodbye.” She looked at her feet fidgeting nervously, before adding, “I wanted to tell you…well…that I heard what your dad said while I was asleep, about why you were sent here.” She swallowed, meeting his curious gaze. “I don’t know if you’re this Prophesized Champion or not, but even if you’re not I…I think you could make a difference. I know humans are, well we’re stupid really. We’re selfish and prejudiced. We make mistakes and screw up. We hurt each other, even the ones we love, but we’re capable of much more than that. We love, we laugh, we learn and we grow. We are capable of change and acceptance; it just takes some of us time.”

  She swallowed looking down, “But I also think this world desperately needs hope.” She felt the prickling of tears as she remembered how the thought of hope had been what finally pulled her out of the nightmare.

  “I know I do.” She whispered, voice cracking as a tear slipped down her cheek. She felt a finger hook under her chin, gently lifting it so she was suddenly staring into warm blue eyes.

  “Okay,” He said simply.

  She blinked in surprise. “Okay?”

  His lips quirked into a half smile. “Okay,” He repeated, before his eyes became serious again. “But I need you to promise me something. I need you to promise me that I’ll never be used to hurt people. I don’t think I could handle that,” He shook his head.

  Buffy agreed immediately, “Of course, we’re not in the habit of killing humans. Demons and vamps sure, but humans we try to keep off the table.”

  Clark nodded, “I assumed as much when you refused to give Hardy the program you guys use to monitor military chatter. You said you were here to protect humanity and not get involved with petty wars.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “I feel the same, I just want to help people.”

  Buffy nodded in understanding, reaching in her back pocket for her wallet and hoping not all her business cards were ruined. “It’s hard to refuse the call, when you know you can help, isn’t it?”

  “Very,” He agreed as she found a card that hadn’t been soaked through with blood and handed it to him. Clark took it and put it in his pocket. “There’s one more thing,” He added. “I would like to keep my anonymity for the time being. I don’t think I’m ready for the world to know who I am yet.”

  She smiled softly. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

  He smiled then, a real genuine smile that seemed to light up his whole face. “Okay,” He agreed again.

  “Buffy,” Willow interrupted. “Wes has a place.”

  She sighed, part of her reluctant to leave. “That’s my cue. Call me when you get back to civilization okay?”

  “I will.” He said with a nod as he watched her grab her axe, before she and her friend stepped through the portal and disappeared.

[Chapter One]

[hawks-is-kinda-chicken-little]

Voicemail: Part 3

Hawks x reader 

A/n: I swear I am alive, I'm just getting my shit together for college. Anyways have my half-assed attempt at a story plot. I stopped here because I'm going through sad hours and that was really going to affect the rest of the story if I continued, I mean it still might be i’m not sure. No clue how gently I feel like being to everyone's feelings for the last chapter (don’t worry I make myself suffer too).

Part 1

Part 2

-Part 3-

Part 4

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“Not alive at least. They never come back alive.”

Hawks may not have been in the facility anymore, but he could still hear the words through the speaker. After all feathers weren’t the only thing he inherited from the avian species. In-fact, a lot of predatory bird-like qualities were passed down to him, none of which were proving to be any aid.

Endeavor exited the facility talking to some of the other heroes who were caring for the two children. He looked towards the clouds watching the desperate hero who was barely able to flap his wings in a steady momentum to keep him airborne. Twitching here and there causing his flow to stutter. Feathers puffed up clearly agitated, but some others sharpened to a dangerous level. It was truly a pitiful sight. From the looks of it, Hawks was nowhere near ready to calm down. Hands were shaking while switching from clenching to unclenching, desperately wanting to hold on to something. Nail marks were indented in the palms of his gloves. Anxiety and agony evidently overriding every morsel of reason that survived up to this point.  His eyes never stopped searching, gaze switching from place to place as light-speed. Endeavor could practically taste the burning red rage sourly seething through Hawks every movement. But, nothing Endeavor could say would bring Hawks from his agitated state. He had to let it fly its course. Only then would Endeavor be able to pull him back to one of the agencies where they could recuperate. 

Lucky for the heroes, they had detained all the henchmen left to guard the facility. They might be able to strangle some information out of them. But, it was kinda strange that the main man would leave them there knowing that the heroes were en-route. However, as Rumi noted, leaving those men there perfectly diverted their attention from the escaping vehicle. A smart move on the abductors part. 

The League was pretty pissed about the whole shebang. Torturing the earlier captured men in a more gruesome manner out of pure rage. In doing so, one of them squeaked about some sort of airport. Oh, now those two were in even deeper shit. Dabi was nice enough to inform Hawks about this new information though. Calling him over for a nice group beating. 

“That’s all I know swea- ack” 

Smack!

Blood splattered the ground, painting over old splotches littering the place. 

Crack! 

One of many bones to be shattered but the blunt head of the bat.

“I’ll ask this one for time- What fucking airport?”

Silence. 

Crack!

“Hawks, the guys’ gonna be dead before you get an answer, or at least a feasible one,” Dabi grunted. 

“Fucking hell,” Hawks cursed, slinging the blood dripping bat to the side of the room with an echoing thud as the wood teetered from end to end until it settled. Hands shooting to clench his golden locks in an iron grip. He squatted to the floor, head hanging low, trying to fight the urges of a predator whose prey sits before them utterly helpless. 

A scarred hand grabbed Hawks’ shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. Hawks shifted his head slightly, just enough so that he could eye Dabi's own eyes from the side. So many emotions swirled within those baby blue pools of fire. Remorse, agitation, worry, and so much more, all together forming a dangerous poison. A poison which would make poor souls scream in agony for death. Something Keigo would be glad to provide. 

Now the two might now get along most of the time, but when facing a common goal, they are not a pair to be trifled with. 

The men in the chairs started struggles in the ropes that tied them to the splintering chair. Pulling hopelessly with all their might, but to no avail. Dabi and Hawks shifted their eyes to the bastards in front of them. 

The hand, not on Hawks’ shoulder, was raised to the man's face level, resting inches away. Smoke began flaring from Dabi’s scared palm, small blue flames flickered around the heel as it heated up. The heat alone was enough to singe the man’s facial hair. Terror welled in the man’s expression as the hand was brought closer, making him whimper.

“Let's try this again.”

Horrid fumes of burnt flesh swirled throughout the air. The man was a tough one to crack, Dabi knew he would come around, he just needed a little encouragement. They got the information they wanted him. Hawks had pity on the bastard, taking a feather, slitting his throat with one quick slash. The other man could do nothing but watch as his comrade bleed out.  

“Don’t worry pal, my boss has plans for you.”

No matter how much he tried to scream all that would come out was muffled sludge blocked by the gag. Dabi, patted his ashy hand on the man’s head before walking towards the door with Hawks following on his heels. The man’s thrashing only increased as he door slammed closed, leaving him with the freshly fried corpse of the other one.

“What’s the plan from here?” Dabi asked.

“If they wanted to sneak on the plane unnoticed, they would have to do it at night, when no one else could potentially spot them.”

“It's a private jet though.”

“Yes, but the guys said it was being held with other private jets.”

“Whatever, your dumbass logic gives me a headache sometimes.”

Twice popped out around the corner where they were talking.

“Please don’t screw each other in the lobby.”

“Twice, what the hell. I would rather set myself on fire.”

Hawks gave Dabi an offended glare. Dabi in return rolled his eyes, walking away from Hawks. 

“Just hurry up. Go get your boy scout in line and save her already”

“Who said I was doing this as a hero?”

Dabi halted, back facing Hawks. A smirk tugged at the corners of his charred lips as his eyes darkened. 

“You don’t have the balls to fly that far from the nest bud. Your stupid heroes commission the only things you truly value in society.”

Hawks glared, but held his tongue. Dabi glared back with just as much hatred taking a couple of steps back towards the winged hero. 

“That damned heroes commission seems to be the only thing you seem to stay faithful to.”

“What the Hell does that mean?” Hawks squawked.

“It means you are more likely to leave her for the vultures before ignoring your duties to those shitholes. Oh, wait a second, that's exactly what you did.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Really now? So let me get this straight, you didn’t push her away, become a complete asshole to her because of them. Hawks at the end of the day all that matters in that brainwashed head of yours is that shitty organisation.”

“Shut up.”

“Fine, let's pretend that it wasn’t the commission pulling the strings. In that case, you are a really shitty person. I mean, you ARE the reason they're in this mess to begin with.” Hawks’ blood ran cold, Dabi gave an exasperated chuckle “What makes you think she even wants YOUR help?” 

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh how you harm me with your words.” Dabi mocked 

“Who’s fucking side are you on? Where the hell is this coming from?”

“Let’s be clear about one thing, birdbrain, just because I want her safe doesn’t mean i’m on your side. You fucked up. And that guilt is only because you feel responsible for her kidnapping, it isn’t because you’re disgusted with all the shit you put her through. So listen when I say-”

“No, you listen here, asshole. Do you honestly think I can't see the damage I did? I am not making an excuse for my behavior, looking back I can see how fucked up I was towards her. I was blessed with an angel, I had never in my life been genuinely cared about. I had never been so committed to someone, so attached to another person. Someone who felt the exact way as I did. It was terrifying.” Hawks paused face falling downwards, scrunching up to fight away the tears building up. “I didn’t have the balls to face her as time went on, so I did what I did best, I put up a front and moved forward. Avoiding our relationship, avoiding her, just because I was scared of commitment. I never bothered to think about the effects it might have had on her. I’m a real douche for doing it and I know it.”

“Shame what it took for you to figure that out.” 

There was nothing sympathetic in Dabi’s tone, no, it was as sour as biting into a ripe bitter melon. Hawks said nothing, he was right after all.

“Go home Keigo. You're not welcome here right now.”

Dabi watched as Hawks turned and walked to the door. Waiting till he was about to close the door on his way out to let out one final stab.

“Oh and Keigo,” Hawks paused “when she’s safe, hope she realizes you’re not worth it.”

SLAM!

Dabi was pretty sure Hawks broke some of the hinges when he shut it behind him.

“Bastard,” He muttered, clearly not into Hawks’ delinquent behavior. Dabi stomped off to the bar to talk to the others about what to do next.

What the actual fuck, Hawks thought as he took off into the dusk set skies. Yes, he knows he screwed this up, Dabi didn’t need to rub it in anymore.

Taking out his phone, Hawks shot a text to Rumi informing her of the newly found information. It was always kind of surprising that no other hero ever questioned where all his exclusive information came from, but oh well. Hawks went straight for the place, not giving anyone time to regroup and set out a plan. It didn’t do much good last time and he wasn’t willing to risk it again. He had an hour or so before the moon set in place, if he was lucky he would make it there before anyone else did. 

Wings soared through the clouds as he scanned the area below, searching for the facility. His sights locked onto a large gated perimeter, surrounding multiple runways connected to a couple of buildings housing the aircrafts. It was one of the many private airports in Tokyo, a place where the rich kept their collection of aircrafts. Hawks descended to a large window in the center of the middle building in the facility. The place seemed to be more of a showcase then anything, some of the jets looked like there were fresh out of manufacturing. 

The place looked empty, no sign of any life in the facility. If it wasn’t for his abnormal vision he would be able to see anything in the pitch black room. No gates or doors were open,  no runway lights shined behind him, no unusual vehicles were in sight. So either he beat everyone here, or he’s got the wrong place. 

He was about to take back off into the sky when he spotted a jet that matched the description the man gave him. A sleek black metal covering, twelve square windows spaced evenly on each side of the jet’s middle, matte silver nose, blood red paint rimming the edges of the wings. It was big enough to carry a small army. The jet seemed a little out of place next to all the smaller, more compact aircraft.

It was clear the jet had yet to be tampered with. They must be waiting till the moon was at its highest to hide their escape. If that was the case they would be there for another hour or so meaning Hawks could have a look around the place. Maybe sabotage the plane enough that it might not function properly. 

Using a feather Hawks carves out a circle into the glass, just big enough that he could fight through and not get stuck. The tricky part was putting the glass back into place so that the bastards weren’t suspicious of the giant whole in the window. But, he managed to do it with only a couple of close calls.

Though he was alone, Hawks still had to be careful nonetheless. Fingers felt around the side of his goggles in search of the night vision button. However, a glowing group of infrared blobs that only grew bigger by the second appeared in his sights. With great haste Hawks hide in the cramped empty space behind one of the two stairwells one either side of the balcony of the window. The tight squeeze forced his wings to fold into uncomfortable positions against the base of his back. 

It stopped right outside the giant corridors leading out to the building runway. While his the blurriness of the image made it hard to fully make out he counted seven or nine of the now van sized blobs. The one in the middle was to first to make any sort of move, a panel sliding to the side as figures exited the vehicle. Others to the right and left followed suit. All filing out into the open, crowding to the center one. Though all the bodies it was he could barely make out a body hauled out onto the ground next to boxes gathered for the other vans. His attention was so zeroed in on the limp body that he didn’t notice the dozen or so figures heading for the corridor. 

CREEEEAAAAK!!

The heavy metal scraped against the asphalt as it was forcefully pried open by the figures. They didn’t fully peel the doors back though, only enough so that a couple of men could head in. About six men entered the dark area, flashlights swinging around in search of anything intruder. Hawks scrunched farther into the wall, missing the beams of the one of them by millimetres allowing him to go unnoticed by the men. The continued their inspection, not very thoroughly Hawks noted, until they each gave a thumbs up signally to the others nothing was out of place.

“All clear,” One of them yelled out behind.

All six men then approach the designated aircraft. Hawks wanted to bang his head on the wall from his own stupidity, since he chose the staircase opposite of the plane. 

He let out a quiet hiss of frustration; “dammit.”

Biting the inside of his cheek he started trying to devise a plan. Maybe, just maybe, he could sneak some feathers inside to take them out. So he did just that, sending one feather for each man and one extra just in case. 

The men had clearly let their guard drop as they focused on their tasks. He had no problem maneuvering the feathers around them as they worked. Two men were in the cockpit, two in the carriage, one taking storage in the backroom, and the last of the six was making his way to the single bathroom of the aircraft.

The man made his way to the bathroom, stripping off his pants before pulling out a phone and doing some unspeakable things that made Hawks want to vomit in his tiny corner. The poor guy had no clue that he was going to be the first to go, Hawks literally caught the bastard with his pants down. A mental note was made to just leave the dagger in his chest, after everything he just witnessed with that feather there was no way he wanted it back in his plumage. 

One down, five to go and next up was the storage guy. A feather hovered right above the back of the guy as he checked off boxes on his clipboard. Moving forward, but still sticking to the wall in order to give the feather a better angle to slash his neck. However, the bright colors contrasted with the white wall, catching the attention of the man.

“What the fuc-”

Swish

It sliced through the air, not giving the man any time to process the situation. Hands instinctively flew to his throat in a pathetic attempt to stop the life escaping him. Bright red blood seeped through the cracks between his fingers, leaking down his front as he wobbled on his feet. The harsh thud of a body crashing to the floor never sounded through the air as the feather slipped down the back of his shirt to guide him quietly to the ground. Once he was laid out noiselessly on the now red stained ground the feather took off to regroup. 

They all stayed as flat as paper against the slick interior of the plane, making sure never to be in the line of sight. Three feathers arrived at their next destination, the passenger section. The two men were just goofing off. Neglecting their assigned duties in favor of gossiping like highschool girls. Hawks could help the twitching of his upper lip, sharp canines baring each time the muscles spasmed. Sexist comments were slurred back and forth between them as they talked about his dove. Feral instincts screamed at him torture them till they were pleading for death. But, he needed to keep his composure or else risk getting caught and that was not something he could really afford right now. 

The feathers slithered down the aisle when the assholes turned their backs to one another. One feather took off to lock the cockpit hatch from the outside, making the two on the inside unable to interrupt Hawks. Both the men were facing the side wall of the aircraft making it easy to string two feathers into position to swoop up and dispose of them just like like the now rotting corpse in the storage compartment. 

Swish

Hawks really wished he could have prolonged their suffering, but he had more important matters to worry about, unlike those sexist bastards. Oh well, he would just have to be sure to spit on their corpses later. 

The last two in the cockpit worked to get the carrier up and running. Hawks could hear them from the two feathers locking inside with them as they ran their diagnostics. Just as the feathers were about to capture their lives the roaring of an engine coming to life sounded throughout the facility. Blinding bright headlights buzzed on pointing to the corridors as if asking to be let out. 

CREEEEAAAAK

Hawks peered over the corner of the wall hiding him, he saw more men pulling the door fully apart to make way for the giant aircraft. With all the new lighting Hawks had to turn off the night vision mode on his goggles so he could see. Through the orange tint of his lenses he could spot [y/n]’s limp body laying on her side facing him through the legs of the surrounding guards. Her whole body looked as though they just threw her to the asphalt from the van door.  A grimy brown sack covered her head that hung to the floor slightly supported by the shoulder on the ground unnaturally scrunched up by her neck. He could see the raw skin surrounding the bonds tightly wired around her bare wrists. What really unnerved him was the slow unsteady half-rise of her chest every so often. He doesn’t know if it was due to the bag covering her airway or the utterly traumatized state of her body, but it wasn’t hard to tell her lungs were starting to give way. There was no way in Hell she would make it through the plane ride. She needed medical attention and she needed it fast.

The shifting of wheels brought Hawks out of his panic as the aircraft propellers spun around in place,  making the plane go forward ever so slightly. It stopped one it was centered with the doors in the front of the facility. If he slashed his feathers upon them it would surely arm the onlookers. Eyes once again shifted to the body of his dove.

Helpless. He couldn’t make a move without stirring up their attention. And if they threatened her, there wasn’t even a sliver of a chance he would make it in time. 

TING

The sound echoed out from his pocket. The phone vibrated letting out another sound to alert him of a notification. 

Hawks’ heart dropped to the ground as everything around him moved in slow motion. Heads took their time spinning in his direction when in reality they snapped his way in milliseconds. 

He didn’t have time to look at his phone as bullets flew his way. Faster than ever, he took to the air, dodging the oncoming hellfire. Since all was turning to shit, the two cockpit feathers slashed the hell out of the men inside with zero mercy whatsoever. Using some spare feathers he sent them lashing at the tires preventing their second escape. He’d rather be plucked for everything he was worth before letting them get away again, especially not when they were so close.

His earpiece rang to life as he wound through the air. 

“What the fuck is happening” a harsh feminine voice that sounded like Rumi screamed from the other side.

“Shit hit the fan, send help.”

That was all he could say before getting nailed in the right shoulder. Wings stuttered in shock, but adrenaline pushed them to keep flapping. 

“Hawks!” She called.

He could barely hear her through the blazing bullets piercing through the air.

“Heading….. Minutes…… Endeavor…… Way.”

Static cut out sentences leaving him with only a couple of words from the other line. He didn’t have time to decode the meaning though.

In the midst of frantic maneuvering a blast of fire hit the window behind him sending him flying forward as a bullet lodged itself in his right thigh.

“Friendly fire!” He screamed behind him. 

Now shit was really hitting the fan, Hawks thought to himself as he looped through the new hole created by none other than Endeavor. He made his way to the top of the building, the roof partially deflecting some of the ammunition flying at light speed. A new wave of confidence gassed his system with the brigade of heroes quickly approaching from behind.

“I know I annoy you, but do ya really need to fry me right now?”

Endeavor only grunted as he landed next to the winged hero, Rumi was soon to join them. The bullets had ceased to pierce the air for a moment, Hawks could hear the head guy yelling at his underlines like an abusive dog owner. Naturally they tried to retreat to their vehicles, but found the tires were lacerated enough that they were rendered useless. The yell turned into hushed whispers. 

All heroes crowded up onto the roof, hastily devising a plan that would hopefully let them safely extract the beaten girl. Time was ticking fast as two beautiful lives were draining from the mother's body every wasted second. They needed to make a move and they needed to do it now. 

“Fuck plans”

“Hawks don’t be rash” 

Endeavor could get fucked by fire for all Hawks cared. He was going in sending flocks of lethal feathers to shred them while he used the remaining feathers to take to the sky. 

It only escalated from there on. Quirks were activated from both ends, but the heroes had to be careful, they may have the upper hand power wise, but the enemies had a hostage. Hawks could see his dove start to stir among all the commotion, but his attention was quickly redirected as a first sent him flying into a wall.

In the midst of the battle one of the lackey’s managed to discreetly snag [y/n] and a couple of the packages into a small aircraft. All which were messily tossed into the back of the cargo compartment before jumping in the control seat. All engines were a go and it was off to the runway from there, splattering some of his comrades into the pavement on the way. Hawks wasn’t having it though, redirecting all of the feathers slashing around to chase the jet as it wobbled in the sky.

“Your feathers are going to do jackshit, GO!” Rumi encouraged, no longer holding back. 

That was all he needed to hear, as he darted to the air, targeting with pinpoint accuracy.  The door of the storage holder on the side of the jet cracked open. Opening more and more as the pilot tried to steady the plane in the sky. The jet lagged in the sky as it swerved to the side making package after package plummet out. Hawks was tailing the jet, but the pilot kept taking sharp turns to try and lose him. 

Hawks spotted [y/n’s body starting to slip to the edge of the open door. One final turn from the unsteady jet was all it took to send her descending into the air. Hawks immediately dove after her, wings tucking flat to increase his speed, arms stretching out towards her, hands ready to snatch her at the first given chance. 

The ground was approaching uncomfortable fast. [Y/n] was just out of his reach, fingertips brushing against her own. 

His wings gave one last flutter against his back, pushing him just far enough to reach her forearm. Hawks latch his hand onto her arm hauling her into his arms before spreading his scarlet wings in an attempt to catch in the air. A hiss passed his lips as the opposing velocity strained the muscles at the base of his wings. 

Just before the hit the ground Hawks caught his bearings, letting them at least land somewhat safely. He stumbled on the turf, the hand that wasn’t holding [y/n] shot out to the ground where he keeled making sure to not fall over onto her. They landed a mile or so from the gates of the airport. 

BOOM!

Hawks watched as sparks erupted from an explosion a little ways from them. Looks like the poor bastard couldn’t fly after all.

His breath was heaving, the adrenaline of the situation still pumping through his body. Lifting his hand from the ground he untied the rope holding the sack over her head, pulling it off, freeing her beaten face. Scarce breaths passed through her cracked lips. 

Hawks was quick to let the rest know he had her. Endeavor let out a sigh of relief through the otherside of the line. Rumi yelled with happiness. When asking about her condition, he was hesitant to say anything, only saying that he was rushing her to urgent care immediately. 

Weakly she stirred in his arms, whimpering as her bound wrist rubbed the harsh unforgiving rope peeling her already raw skin. Hawks plucked a feather, slashing her wrist and ankle constraints, finally setting her aching limbs free. Tears welled in his eyes, partly because she was now in his arms once again and partly because she was suffering in his arms.

“Shhhhh, baby bird, I’m gonna get you some help okay?” 

He couldn’t tell if she heard him, but he wasn’t going to bother waiting for a reply. Wings spread behind him once more, screaming at him from pure agonizing torture they had already suffered. Limbs burned, fire setting every vein ablaze with even the slightest of moments. 

All it took once one more heart wrenching soft cry passing her lips to get the adrenaline rushing again. No wound or pain could hold him down as he flapped his wings aggressively through the thin air. He kept staggering up to the clouds and low to the ground. It was definitely not his smoothest flight, but it was doing the job. She was held securely in a tight embrace against his chest. One of his hands gently caressed her cheek with the thumb in an attempt to pass her his wordless love. 

Some of the feathers started to give from those once giant eyes. Every feather lost was another piece of [y/n] drifting to the light of eternal rest. She was a rose that was slowly shedding its abused petals, wilting from the mortal world. 

Hawks could see the hospital in his sights, in his moment of overwhelming relief he almost hit the ground, but luckily he was able to bring them both up just in time. 

White doors slammed over as a body crashed onto the hospital lobby tile. The receptionist rushed over to the counter spotting the hero, wings clings around his front to cushion their landing. Looking at the lady in scrubs he lifted one of his wings revealing the beaten woman he cradled to his chest. The lady screamed for help as doctors and nurses flooded the room. A stretcher was brought in as [y/n] was carted into one of the back rooms, nurses flocking the stretcher trying to assess her state. 

A separate stretcher was brought in for him. A light smile graced his face as he watched them take care of her while they hauled him onto the cart. One of the nurses was trying to ask him questions, but he paid them no mind, only watching his dove.

The smile quickly faded as he saw more doctors dash to her room, panicked expressions present on each of their faces. He tried to stay awake, he tried to hear what was going on, but the last thing he heard was a doctor yelling one word that echoed in his ears even as he lost touch with reality.

“CLEAR!”

Then everything went black.

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Also I want to thank you all for reading this, it makes me so happy. I literally cried at all the love you all gave the first chapter. I wish I was kidding I actually cried.

TAGS:

@assassinslittlesister @anxiousgoddest @moonpawss @regularkacchan @austriasmariazelle @murkyrosewrite @hawksexual @imuziawi

[thelittlestcheshire]

even if you have to cry, don't let your crown fall

a love letter to luxor’s ches elswood

Well, it’s finally time that I feel ready to post this, and while I’m aware it may be bittersweet with my upcoming departure, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Today I present to you a three hour Ches playlist, divided into sections and covering her entire time at Luxor, from when I first picked her up in June of 2019 all the way to now. There’s quite a few plot references, and small (and not as small) references to other muses throughout, especially when it comes to Elliot, so keep an eye out for those as well!

I’d like to thank Lex for giving me the idea to make these, and her support throughout the process because without her, these playlists wouldn’t even exist. And thank you to everyone who has gone on this journey with us, while I’m sorry I need to dip out early after this event to focus on my health, I love y’all so much.

The standard Ches tws apply (poor mental health, alcoholism, etc etc), and anything I think may be a bit abnormal / section exclusive is noted on the sections.

twist me like a key, then you open the lock | pre-luxor:

the section of time before I played Ches at Luxor, very James heavy. additional tws: Death (Sign of the Times), Toxic relationships (nothing explicit tho)

Sign of the Times (Jasmine Thompson) [ Remember everything will be alright. We can meet again somewhere, somewhere far away from here. ] // Sweet Ophelia (Zella Day) [ Singing like it's a full moon, careless now that he has you. Turns you on to the right songs, promises that you're hooked on. ] // Couple of Kids (Maggie Lindemann) [ Now I'm fallin' heavily, recklessly, trying not to lose my sensibility; but gravity, it pulls me into you. ] // Glowstick (Sofia Karlberg) [ You play me like a line-up; long con, you make me wise up. ] // Crying in the Club (Camila Cabello) [ Ain't no crying in the club, hey, hey, let the beat carry away, your tears as they fall, baby. Ain't no crying in the club, hey, hey, with a little faith, your tears turn to ecstasy. ] // Ember (Katherine McNamara) [ Reignite; you lost your grip on me, and now I blaze wild and free. ]

nobody shows up unless i'm paying, have a drink on me cheers to the failing | summer & fall 2019:

the first time I was at Luxor playing ches, from June - October 2019

7 rings (Ariana Grande) [ Been through some bad shit, I should be a sad bitch. Who woulda thought it'd turn me to a savage? ] // I'm a Mess (Bebe Rexha) [ “It's gonna be a good, good life;” that's what my therapists say. ] // OMG (Little Mix) [ Oh my gosh, I did it again. He said I broke his heart, it keeps happening. ] // Only Angel (Harry Styles) [ Couldn't take you home to mother in a skirt that short, but I think that's what I like about it. ] // LA Devotee (Panic! At The Disco) [ Drinking white wine in the blushing light, just another LA Devotee. ] // Woman Like Me (Little Mix feat. Nicki Minaj) [ I made a few mistakes, I regret it nightly. I broke a couple hearts that I wear on my sleeve. ]

all of this emptiness i've been sharing, it never comes when i want it to | winter 2019:

the period of time Ches went home to be with her family and was away from luxor additional tws: vomiting (Habits (Stay High))

Carmen (Lana Del Rey) [ Darlin’, darlin’, doesn't have a problem lyin’ to herself ‘cause her liquor’s top shelf ] // How You Remind Me (Avril Lavigne) [ And I've been wrong, I've been down, been to the bottom of every bottle. These five words in my head scream, "Are we havin' fun yet?" ] // Playing God (Paramore) [ This is the last second chance (I'll point you to the mirror). I'm half as good as it gets (I'll point you to the mirror). I'm on both sides of the fence (I'll point you to the mirror). Without a hint of regret, I'll hold you to it ] // Habits {Stay High} (Tove Lo) [ Staying in my play pretend, where the fun ain't got no end. Oh, can't go home alone again, need someone to numb the pain. ] // Bedroom Window (The Pretty Reckless) [ As I look out of my bedroom window; is it all real or just fantasy? I have lost touch with what makes me human, I have lost touch with reality. ] // Impossible Year (Panic! At The Disco) [ There's no sunshine, this impossible year; only black days and sky grey and clouds full of fear. ]

i wouldn't say you got the best of me, i'd say you got me somewhere in between | spring 2020:

Ches’s return to Luxor, and the months following leading up to her mass text about Leo’s dad following the Lake Bash

3 O'Clock Things (AJR) [ Would you go running if you saw the real me? Maybe you'd love 'em, yeah, maybe you'd feel me. ] // Wild Heart (Bleachers) [ Well, everything has changed and now I can't tell what matters. I will find any way to your wild heart. ] // Rise (Katy Perry) [ When the fire's at my feet again and the vultures all start circling. They're whispering, “you're out of time.” But still, I rise. ] // Don't Stop Me Now (Queen) [ I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars on a collision course. I am a satellite, I'm out of control. ] // Princesses Don't Cry (CARYS) [ Girls, so pretty and poised and soft to the touch, but God made me rough. Girls, so heavy the crown, they carry it tall, but it's weighing me down. ] // Save Rock And Roll (Fall Out Boy feat. Elton John) [ You are what you love, not who loves you. In a world full of the word 'yes', I'm here to scream... no, no (no, no). ] // Making a Monster out of Me (Katherine McNamara) [ And I don't know how to recollect the morals that I always did possess. Don't know where its leading me. ] // We Don't Have To Dance (Andy Black) [ You're never gonna get it, I'm a hazard to myself. I'll break it to you easy. This is hell, this is hell. ]

tonight it's alright, i can see the tunnel at the end of these lights | summer 2020:

summer camp and the months leading up to a new school year

Night Owls Early Birds (Foxes) [ A wild fire inside me burns. Why do I look like I'm wear for worse? Save me, save me, go underneath the ground. ] // Too Much (Carly Rae Jepsen) [ When I party, then I party too much. When I feel it, then I feel it too much. When I'm thinking, then I'm thinking too much. When I'm drinking, then I'm drinking too much. ] // Royal Blue (Alberto Rosende) [ My regrets are a shade around my neck I know. It's torturous, and there's a burden that I can't let go. ] // Who You Selling For (The Pretty Reckless) [ And when Roger showed me I was building a wall. I've been waiting a long time, waiting a long time, waiting a long time, waiting for it to fall. ] // Heavy (Linkin Park feat. Kiiara) [ You say that I'm paranoid, but I’m pretty sure the world is out to get me. It’s not like I make the choice to let my mind stay so fucking messy. ] // The Archer (Taylor Swift) [ I've been the archer, I've been the prey; screaming, “who could ever leave me,” darling. But who could stay? ] // Everybody Lost Somebody (Bleachers) [ And there's a reason I wake up alone in strange places, a reason I see myself in a million faces, a reason I can't stop it all from changing. So come on, motherfucker, you survive, you gotta give yourself a break. ]

no cameras catch my muffled cries. i counted days, i counted miles | fall and winter 2020(/21):

a new school year, from the start of the semester right until the aftermath of the kings’ party

So It Goes (Guards) [ I don't know who I am but I do know who I'm not. I'm just looking for a friend, I'm still searching for the plot. ] // Wasabi (Little Mix) [ Love to hate me, praise me, shame me; either way, you talk about me. ] // Think Before I Talk (Astrid S) [ Maybe I should think before I talk; I get emotional and words come out all wrong. Sometimes I'm more honest than I want. ] // Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince (Taylor Swift) [ No cameras catch my muffled cries. I counted days, I counted miles to see you there, to see you there. And now the storm is coming, but... ] // Sober Up (AJR feat. Rivers Cuomo) [ Won't you help me sober up? Growin' up, it made me numb, and I wanna feel somethin' again. ] // The Show Must Go On (Queen) [ Empty spaces, what are we living for? Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on. Does anybody know what we are looking for? ] // Waiting For A Friend (The Pretty Reckless) [ My head is like a prison cell, I'm all by myself. I'm waiting for my friend to come and break me out. ] // Sober (Demi Lovato) [ I'm sorry that I'm here again, I promise I'll get help. It wasn't my intention, I'm sorry to myself. ] // Eight (Sleeping At Last) [ I'm just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut, and bury my innocence. But here's a map, here's a shovel, here's my Achilles' heel. ]

i got this handled, i don't need rescuing | spring and early summer 2021:

ches’s progress from the end of march until now

The Man (Taylor Swift) [ I’m so sick of running as fast as I can, wondering if I'd get there quicker if I was a man. And I'm so sick of them coming at me again, 'cause if I was a man, then I'd be the man. ] // Princess (FLETCHER) [ But we're all going through it, so why do we do it? Why do we hide? ] // Humpty Dumpty (AJR) [ If I can't breathe, then you can't see, but aren't you excited that I'm giving you the best me? ] // My Mistake (Gabrielle Aplin) [ Am I jaded? Am I meant to feel this way?  I'm a loser, getting beat by my own game. But if I falter, well, at least it was my mistake. ] // The Climb (Miley Cyrus) [ The struggles I'm facing, the chances I'm taking; sometimes might knock me down, but no, I'm not breaking. ] // breathin (Ariana Grande) [ Some days, things just take way too much of my energy. I look up and the whole room's spinning. You take my cares away. ] // Clean (Taylor Swift) [ Ten months sober, I must admit just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it. Ten months older, I won't give in, now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it. ] // Not a Pop Song (Little Mix) [ A hamster on a wheel that's how it feels tryna be real. These unrealistic expectations said we'll make it if we fake it. ] // Queen (Loren Gray) [ Eyes on me like I'm a prize but you better recognize I'm not your angel 'cause I belong to me. ] // The Cure (Little Mix) [ This happiness was always inside me but Lord, it took a minute to find me. ]

[saberdeity]

You Don’t Have To Go Through This Alone

Matt Simmons x GenderNeutral Reader 

Summary- “you don’t have to fight this battle alone anymore” 

Warnings- Mentions of death, not taking care of yourself, generally feeling of depression, don't read if you are easily triggered! 

Notes- I don't why I wrote this to be honest but if anybody is struggling at the moment, please feel free to message me! Even if I'm not feeling myself I will do my best to help you! My inbox is open to everybody 💗

*not my gif, full credit goes to the owner* 

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When you loose someone or something you love, your world breaks into small little pieces which look impossible to put back together. No amount of tears will bring the thing you’ve lost back but you are so overcome with sadness you just cannot stop yourself from letting those tears fall down your cheeks. They normally tell you to talk about the emotions you are experiencing but how do you put into words the desperate need to feel that persons skin against yours or hear their voice just one last time. That person or thing meant the world to you, the simple little things that you found so annoying were the things you missed the most. You cannot explain the grief, the pain and the sadness you are feeling, it was like an elephant was squashing your chest, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t eat and you couldn’t sleep. It was an endless cycle of pain. 

When you were informed of the loss you had suffered, you were in the middle of meeting with your fellow BAU members. You read the text, tears instantly prickling in your eyes as you excused yourself rather quickly, making your way to the bathroom. As soon as the door closed, the tears fell, your chest constricting and your hands grabbing at your heart as it ached terribly. You almost couldn’t believe it at first, they couldn’t be gone, it wasn’t time yet but in fact it was. You sent a quick message to Emily, explaining what had happened as you rushed out of the BAU building getting home as quickly as you could. 

You were a hermit for weeks, barely eating, barely sleeping and not even going to work. You couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed. You cried every day all day, missing them so badly that your life came to a holt. Matt wanted to help desperately, he texted everyday and even called when he didn’t get a reply. You knew he was there but you couldn’t ask for help, you couldn’t explain why you couldn’t but you just couldn’t. 

You finally managed to get yourself out of bed, throwing on some work clothes and sending Emily a quick message telling her to expect you in work. You knew it probably wasn’t the best idea, you looked a mess, you lost an unhealthy amount of weight and you couldn’t concentrate for more than five minutes but you needed to distract yourself, focus on something other than the painful feeling and the emptiness you felt. 

You arrived a little late, not saying anything to anyone as you collected the consultant cases from Emily and slumped down at your desk. Everybody looked to you with a sympathetic expression, you sent them a small smile trying to convince them you were fine but Matt knew you weren’t. It took you about 20 minutes just to read the first paragraph of the first case and it was frustrating. You threw the case away from you lobbing the pen over the other side of the room not caring if it hit someone or anything. 

Matt had been keeping an eye on you all day, respecting your personal space but as he watched you breakdown in front of everyone that was his last straw. He walked over, softly taking your hands in his, looking to you with the softest expression helping you rise from you seat as he led you to Derek’s old empty office. 

The minute he closed the doors, you tried your hardest not to break but when he began to speak you were gone. 

“I know you needed your space but I can’t let you go through this by yourself! The pain and emptiness you are feeling now won’t last forever, it will suck for a long time but that pain will slowly ease over time but you can’t keep going like this! I love you with all my heart and I need you to look after yourself, please let me help, you don’t have to go through this alone baby” He whispers tears in his own eyes as he sees your state. At this point you burst into tears not being able to say anything but nod. 

He wraps his arms tightly around you, kissing your forehead sweetly as his huge hands rub your back comfortingly. You felt awful for how you treated Matt, you were a shocking girlfriend and you didn’t pay any attention to him. You just wrapped your arms around him tightly, desperately grabbing a hold of his shirt as you just cried as hard as you could into his chest. 

Matt took you home after the breakdown you had in the empty office. When you arrived, he ran you a bath, filling it with you favourite scents and bath bombs. He gently rubs the sponge over your body, cleaning your soft skin sweetly as he smiles to you, kissing your cheek every so often. He then washes your hair for you, massaging your scalp with the most delicate touch. When he lifted you out of the water, wrapping the warm towel around you even after insisting you could do it yourself. You got dressed, Matt giving you one his shirts and his biggest hoodie with a smile. 

Matt held you in his arms, making sure to rub your back comfortingly until he realised you’d fallen asleep on him. He placed you down in the clean guest bed down the hall, kissing your forehead softly and wrapping your favourite blanket around you for comfort. He made his way around the house, cleaning a long the way as he made sure everything was spotless, including changing your bedsheets and quickly popping out to refill the fridge with some food for you. 

He was cooking some dinner, your favourite comfort pasta of course as you woke up to the delicious smell filling the air. You didn’t realise how hungry you actually well. You let your legs sleepily guide you to the kitchen where he was cutely swaying to the soft music he was playing through the speaker, low enough so it didn’t wake you but loud enough for him to hear. He was stirring the pasta as you wrapped your arms around him the best you could, he was a big guy and it wasn’t easy. 

“Hi baby, I made you some pasta, I’ve made enough for the next couple of days if you need it” He says with a smile, kissing your cheek softly. 

“Hi baby, thank you” You half smile back, feeling so grateful and thankful to have Matt. 

Once you’d eaten something, you actually felt a lot better. You quickly eat what’s in front of you as Matt eats with you, chuckling a little when he sees how fast you eat the food. 

After food was done and you’d helped him clean, much to his disliking. You both made your way back into your bedroom as you realised he’d cleaned everywhere for you whilst you were asleep. Tears formed in your eyes at his kindness as you lead him over to your bed, laying down with him as you snuggled into his chest, placing soft kisses to his neck as thank you. 

“Thank you for cleaning whilst I was asleep, you didn’t have to but I really appreciative you baby” You whisper resting your hand on his chest 

“Of course angel, I’ll do anything to help you my love” He replies kissing the centre of your forehead sweetly 

“C-can you stay for a couple of days?” You ask, looking up at him with your best puppy dog eyes 

“Yes baby I can, get some sleep bub, I will be right here when you wake up” reassures as you fall into the deepest sleep you’ve had for a long time, wondering how you got so lucky and for the first time, the pain eased a little. 

[concentratedbitterness]

The Lieutenant

Mesopotamia: Early Bronze Age

The guttural snarls of Hellhounds steal any illusion of silence from the room; the scrape of teeth on bone and the unmistakably moist squelch of flesh as it is torn by preternatural jaws setting a scene that is not unlike the current mood of their master.  Ra-Sebek holds his position at the entryway of the great hall, spear at his side, and tries not to let the palpable tension in the air fray his nerves.  Nybbas is staring at the other demon in the room, left hand absently straying to his side to stroke the bloody muzzle of one of his massive hellhounds.  

Lucius.  Ra-Sebek knows of this one; an ancient holdover from when Hell was not so vast as it is now–Like Nybbas, they are both relics of a time when angels still walked the Earth freely; when humanity was new.  He is old, and hardened by eons in the Pit where he’s spend his afterlife carving the last vestiges of humanity away from the souls of the damned.  

“You’re wasted on her,” The Fallen states matter-of-factly, “A fine blade cast before a petulant child who will do no more than smack it against stone.  Frankly I have never understood it; you could have your druthers, Lucius.  Any commander in Hell.  Even me.  And yet still you choose to toil alongside that one.”  The hound at Nybbas’ side growls low, ears going flat against its head, “There are rumors, of course.”  A razor smile. “Tell me–Why?”

Ra-Sebek chews on his tongue, paying attention to the exchange only because he worries what might happen if he doesn’t.  Of all the things about Hell that he can’t stand–and there’s a lot of it; the smell, the heat, the nagging sound of someone sobbing far off in the distance–it’s the politics that irritate him the most. Torture, he understands. Pain, he understands. Destruction, he understands.

Politics? That goes over his head.

For a grunt from Manufacturing, Ra-Sebek decides Lucius doesn’t look half as rattled as he should be by the stare-down he’s receiving from a demon near the top of the Infernal Hierarchy. The old demon glances up and then shrugs, “What can I say? I’m weak for a good underdog story,” Lucius replies. 

He’s being snide, that much is obvious, and Ra-Sebek has to bite back the snort of amusement threatening to escape, masking his mirth with a scowl.  Especially when the other demon steps in a little too close, maybe, and gives Nybbas’s hellhound a light scratch on the top of its head. Lucius may be capable fodder, but he is fodder all the same in the eyes of the Monarchia.  One rung up from a well trained hellhound; though for his part Ra-Sebek is certain Nybbas much prefers his beasts.  Their loyalty, at least, is never in question.  Lucius’ remains to be seen.

“Whoever said it was a good story?  She has benefited from circumstance, nothing more.” Nybbas notes darkly, fingers curling into the coarse hairs at the back of the hellhound’s neck as it growls low, silently instructing the creature to resist it’s innate urge to tear Lucius’ hand off when he dares to touch it.  “I’ve fed far more talented salesmen to my dogs.”  He’s not joking, Ra-Sebek knows.  “–and one day soon I shall watch as they feast on you both, as well.  Unless…” The hound at his side sinks to its haunches as its master stands, and Ra-Sebek steadies his spear, awaiting whatever order may come.  Nybbas waves a hand nonchalantly, as if they are discussing nothing more important than the weather, “…I extend to you a most generous offer, Lucius.  An offer to join the winning side in this feud while you still can.  I will not make it again.”

It is a generous offer, and an unexpected one. Ra-Sebek knows that much, and he’s willing to bet Lucius does, too. Pit demons are survivors, after all.  They are hard wired for self-preservation.

“What about Mara?  Impressive what she did with the mess you dropped in her lap.  She still nothing more than dog meat?” A small reminder that, maybe, Nybbas might have been too hasty to tear Marayati to pieces.  

The young upstart’s recent success with the territories her former commander had written off as unprofitable has shocked everyone in Hell, but she still has a lot to learn.  If Nybbas came at them at full force now, Ra-Sebek would bet against any odds of them coming out alive on the other side.  It remains a mystery what, exactly, tethers the other demon to his fledgling commander, but he could venture a few guesses.  He suspects he would only need one.  Mara always had been skillful with her tongue.

“Impressive?  Hardly,” Nybbas scoffs, filling two snifters with dark amber liquid.  “She’s common Pit scrap, not fit to lick the shit from my boots much less to reap the fruits of my crossroads.  There is nothing impressive about one’s propensity for spreading a pair of legs.  The only reason she received a post in the first place was to take a fall…because she was the most expendable salesman on my roster.”  Nybbas smiles down at Lucius like a viper as he holds out one glass to him.

Two of the great hellhounds circle back to sit at their master’s heels as the Fallen leans against the edge of his desk.  Cocky and full of condescension he finally answers the question, “My offer does not extend to Marayati.  She will pay the price for her impudence and when I am through with her, and my hounds have had their fill, then perhaps–if you are lucky–there will be some scrap left for you.  Defy me, and Ra-Sebek here will be washing what remains of you off the kennel floors for days.”  

Great, he thinks bitterly to himself, already dreading that assignment.  

“What will it be, Lucius?  Choose wisely.”

Nybbas may not be the mightiest representative of the Monarchia, but he is, certainly, a powerful demon.  The Fallen are in a class all their own, and head to head, even sans hellhounds, there is not a Pit demon in existence–even one as ancient as Lucius–who would would not be easily outmatched.  Factor in everything Nybbas has at his disposal…well.  Ra-Sebek shoots Lucius a look, lieutenant to lieutenant.  Tread carefully.

Lucius takes the glass, tilts it to his lips, and empties it in a swallow, setting it back down on the desk before responding with a light sneer. “Don’t belong t’you, Nybbas. Never have. Never will. Don’t think your hound collars would much suit my style.” With that, he gives the desk a tap and steps away to leave.

One of the hellhounds at Nybbas’ side, sensing its master’s growing ire, peels back its lips to bare long razor sharp teeth.  The Fallen swirls the liquor in his glass, taking a long, slow sip before setting the remnants down upon the desk behind him.  “I must admit, I did not expect for you to choose your own demise.  Suit yourself.“  

Ra-Sebek watches as the other demon turns to leave, his eyes narrowing as both of his commander’s hounds flatten their ears and snarl; coiled to strike and contained only by the power of their master.  He awaits the order…but it does not come.  Nybbas is tempted, Ra-Sebek can tell from the churning of his energy signature, but something stays his hand.  “She’s going to be the death of you, Lucius.  Mark my words.  You will regret your decision this day…Don’t say I didn’t warn you.  Ra-Sebek, let him pass.”

Ra-Sebek does as he is commanded, hand tight around the handle of his spear as the old demon walks past nonchalantly; not even sparing him a cursory glance.  Nybbas might be out of Lucius’ league, but he isn’t.

“A mindless bull and a toothless fox,” the Fallen says with a sigh once they are alone again with the hellhounds, “An absurd combination.  They will not last.  Still, how fortunate for you, Ra-Sebek.  It would appear I have not yet found your replacement, after all.”

“…Replacement?” Ra-Sebek echoes.  He isn’t the quickest, but he is starting to catch up.

Nybbas only looks at him and smiles.  “Go now, lieutenant.  Bring fresh meat for my hounds before I bid them feast upon you.”

Loyalty is a fickle notion in Hell, but it is the anger coiling in his gut that makes him wonder for the first time what it must feel like to have it...and to willingly give it in return.  “Yes, Master,” he replies through clenched teeth, and bows low before he takes his leave.