#single spaced is too tight for me but it was the closest option

[lyrenminth]

When we were together

Summary: You and Joe split and meet years after, he realized he fucked up and is mad/sad to see how happy you are without him and starting to regret he left you walk away. 

Warning: I mean Joe is a selfish prick is we look it objetively haha Grammar mistakes.

"I can't do this anymore, I'm sorry" you said, your fists tight, your stomach clenched in a tight knot. Many sleepless nights brought you here. You didn't know if you would regret one day, but today it was a decision taken consciously. "Are you serious?" Joe's inexpressive face hurt a little bit. He always has this pretty face and pinky lips you dreamed your children would have one day. "I'm breaking up with you, Joe" you stated, not making eye contact. After eight years together it was so uncommon for a WAG to leave this late, but since there was no ring and no signed papers leaving was easier.

“Why?" He raised his voice "Why are you leaving me?" You closed your eyes, trying not to cry. "Because it is better that way. We don't spend  many time together anyway, you are busy and I'm busy. That's it"

"That's it? It's what you have to say?" he frowned "And we spend time together"

"No, we don't and I don't want to discuss it" you contradict him. You had discussions about this topic all the time.

"Well, I want to. You can't leave me, we have been together eight years"

 "And that's enough for me" you said harshly, Joe expression was a hurt one, like you just slapped him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude" you sighed, tired and wanting to be as far away from him as possible. You told you closest friends and your family in advance about your decision. You friends weren't so convinced since you had stability with Joe, but your parents were more understanding about the matter. You didn't know why love vanished from you. Maybe it was the routine or how lonely you felt during the season, but one day you woke up and saw Joe as a roommate rather than a boyfriend. And his house started to feel foreign, and his presence wasn't wonderful anymore. And you thought the feeling would be temporary because everyone loved Joe, and you should too. He gave you many things other men could never, but it wasn't enough. You tried to loved him again, going to dates, dressing cute but in general the experience felt so bad. And the blame drown you. How could you think even for a moment to leave a man like him? Handsome, athletic, rich, popular and down-to-earth. "If you leave him, you are going to regret it deeply" a friend told you "You are not gonna find someone like him elsewhere" Maybe you don't, maybe you would regret it for life. But crying every night wasn't your long term option. You couldn’t live like this forever. You weren't attracted to him anymore, a sour and true feeling. And if you brain were smarter, you would have stayed and enjoy the expensive lifestyle, but since your heart was slowly dying you decide to leave."If it is what you truly want, then what can I do?" He said sadly. He wasn’t even fighting for this  "But let not make a mess about it, it wouldn’t be good for my image"

You don't. People didn't realize Joe was single after a couple of months later during a interview when he denied to have girlfriend. 

***

You built a new life far away from anything football related. You stayed in contact with some of the girls, but always went out during the off-season and never talked about Joe or football in your presence. Sometimes you felt like an outcast but they truly enjoyed your company. You noticed Joe's popularity rise and you watched his commercials in public spaces. When you moved for a job opportunity in another country you got the news that he won his first Super Bowl ring and you were happy for him. You reminded him fondly. You bet he hated all the attention he was receiving, but it was the way it was. After his win, you didn't hear about him at all, until you went back to America, now as a married woman. You saw each other at a wedding from a friend in common. You genuinely thought Matt would never get married, so when you received the invitation you had to see it first hand. You saw Joe in the ceremony, he was dating a beautiful woman that you knew later was a model. You made eye contact across the crowd, it was just a second but you could tell he was surprised. Then his eyes focused on the person next to you, your husband. You felt a little guilty not knowing why. You made a life after him, not avoidable.

You enjoyed the wedding, chatting with old friends and catching up, meeting their partners and babies. A few of them didn't know you were married and you introduce them to your husband. When the party started, you dance together. Your hubby was a good dancer, and both enjoyed the party between laughs and alcohol. 

  ***

Joe hated it. He felt fucking sick. 

You were gorgeous as you always were, your blue dress flying around, your naked back he touched many times before. Your childish smile...How could you do so well without him? He was hurt, his ego was hurt. His pride didn't let him to approach you, but when he saw you leave to the gardens, his feet started moving. He wanted to see you again, touch you. See how much you have changed. Why do you married someone else and not him. Why do you moved on when he still had a little silly hope that got crushed when he saw that ring in your finger. Why he wasn't enough? Why, why, why. He loved you so much, and he failed in many ways. You were a simple woman, you never cared about money or luxury things, but the things you care for he couldn't give it to you. Against his pride, he had to admitted to himself that letting you go and letting your relationship sour and die was the only regret of his life. So when he saw you in that bench, staring at the night sky he felt sad. Hurting from memories. You always saw him as Joe Burrow, the guy from Athens, fan of Starts Wars and geeky stuff, the perfectionist and grumpy man. The insecure boy about his teeth and appearance. The anxious man who people has never seen on screen. You knew those sides of him. He loved you since college and those feelings punched him in the gut watching you there. 

He walked towards you in silence, when you looked up to him, you got startled. "Joe" your voice sounded strained, surprised. You looked older, your hair had its natural color. When he entered to the NFL you decided to dye it blonde, but always loved your brown hair. 

"Hello" he said, a little nervous.

"What are you doing here?" you stand up, looking around. You were alone.

"I want to talk to you"

"Oh, about...what" you asked, flat.

"I wanted to see how are you doing" he shrugged, his hands in his pockets. "Oh, I'm doing well" you said, looking at his blue eyes. The black suit made wonders on him. "I'm married know, I live in London, have you been? It's a nice city" you babble. He felt a sharp pain across his chest. "No, no, you know..." he started.

"You don't like long flights" you finished for him. A short silence between you. The tension rising.

"Can I sit? " He got closer and took a seat, you sat down a few inches apart rigid. "You are dating someone I suppose?" Joe nodded without hesitation. "Nothing serious she wanted help with her model career, I'm helping her until she gets a contract" he shrugged.

 "Oh, that's...well, good for her" he smiled a little bit, he was still staring, studying your face. He noticed a few white hairs too, but your eyes were kind as always. Your lips were red and plump as he remembers. 

 "I can't believe Matt got married" you said, looking the flowers in front of you. "Yeah, I have been wishing many things tonight" he replied as a joke.

"Like what?" He shrugged with nothing to say apparently. The true was he didn’t want to say it out loud.

 "Winning another Super Bowl?" You added. "Did you watch the game?" he asked, hopeful. It was a great moment in his career.

"No, I couldn't" you answer disappointed  him. You were beating him without knowing. Damn you were completely over him. And why you shouldn't? You were resilient, strong on your own. What a selfish piece of crap he was. When you broke up with him, he thought you were going to comeback to him after a couple of months, when that didn't happen he thought you needed time, and when that time become years he realized he fucked up. Of course, you were dating Joe Burrow the guy from Athens, not Joe Burrow the Superstar Quarterback. Because yes, you break up with him because he didn't pay attention to the relationship. Because he thought you were staying no matter what. He took you from granted and he lost you.

"Are you ok? You look tired" He hear you voice and went back to his senses. "Yeah, it has been a long day" 

"Well, I'm happy you are doing well, Joe" he looked you, your answer was genuine he could tell. You were smiling at him. “I hope you continue your career as healthy as you could be. I wish you the best, truly”

He stared at you long and hard. He felt a sting in his eyes and looked down. How could you be so kind after so many years? and why it seemed like another goodbye from you?

"Yeah, thank you" he coughed “I wish you well too. Can I asked you something?”

“Yes, go ahead”

“Are you happy with him?” he asked.

You blushed. "Yes, I am" He sighed feeling suddenly more older and tired than ever. "Glad to hear, you deserved it”

“You are going to find someone too, Joe” if you were trying to comfort him, it didn’t work. It was pretty much the opposite.

 “I need to come back. Take care" He stood up. He walked a couple of steps when he turned around and said:

"Just for the record, I also wish I had done things differently when we were together" 

[saiikavon]

(I neeeeeed this.)

This has got to be some kind of joke. Some stupid office prank that some soon-to-be-fired subordinate thought they could get away with. That, or he’s fucking hallucinating.

Those are the only plausible reasons Jounouchi fucking Katsuya would be standing in front of him right now, dressed in a KC workman’s uniform.

The joke-or-hallucination in question visibly squirms in discomfort at what must be a truly demonic expression on Seto’s face, only adding to the taut silence for a long, incredulous moment. Seto’s jaw is clenched so tight he thinks he may actually crack a tooth. Jounouchi continues to fidget for a minute more, then takes a breath as though bracing himself for a long dive off a cliff.

“You called for someone to fix one of the VR monitors?” He sounds completely deadpan, but the tone is ruined by the slight pout gracing his lips. Seto’s gaze remains fixed on the expression for a second more before his jaw finally unlocks.

“How are you here?”

Jounouchi sighs, rolling his eyes as though to say, Here we go again, then begins to repeat his last statement in the same, disaffected tone, and Seto feels a vein throbbing in his temple.

“I meant how are you working here, you brainless monkey!” he snaps. Jounouchi looks barely perturbed to be cut off.

“So am I fired again or can I fix the thing you wanted fixed?”

“Fi—I’d rather throw you into space; maybe then you’ll actually stay the hell away from me and my company!”

“Look, it’s not my fault you own over half the businesses in the city!” Jounouchi snaps back. “Not a lot of options for me elsewhere, either, not when I have to keep reporting that you threw me out on my ass before the first month!”

Fair, but Seto wasn’t about to concede the point out loud. “That still doesn’t answer my question. I have you on an explicit no-hire list. Every single department in this building alone should know your name and face; even newcomers receive this information in training. You shouldn’t have even gotten in the door, let alone gotten a job.”

Jounouchi shrugs. “Dunno what to tell you. I’m here.” He offers nothing else, looking just as run-down by the constant game of employment tag as Seto is. Three jobs before this, Seto didn’t even blink before sending him packing. But it’s been long enough and he’s positively manic over the thought of just where this gods-blessed cockroach of a human being will show up next.

Seto, for the first time in his life, admits defeat, and slumps bonelessly into the closest chair with a sigh.

“Just…tell me you can do the job.”

Jounouchi blinks, brightens like a puppy being offered a treat, and damn near looks like he wants to comment on the moment until Seto shuts him up with a glare.

“I—yeah. Yeah, I can. M’good with my hands, and Nomura-san will vouch for me, too.”

“Then get to it, and don’t speak to me unless it’s important.” He may regret allowing Jounouchi to speak to him at all, but he’ll deal with that as it comes. The grin that Jounouchi directs his way is absolutely sickening.

“On it, boss!” he crows, giving Seto a cheery salute. Then he takes himself and his toolkit over to the busted monitor, whistling to himself.

Seto curls over his desk, groaning at the beginnings of a headache. He pages his assistant, demanding some strong painkillers and what is likely an inadvisable amount of coffee. She accepts without comment or complaint.

Jounouchi continues whistling as he works, and Seto thinks to himself that he’s just going to have to get used to it.

[breannacasey]

This or That

Tagged by @ravens-words

present tense or past tense / first person or third person / double spaced or 1.5-spaced or single spaced / action or emotion / similes or metaphors / OCs or existing characters / fluff or angst / music or white noise or silence / character or plot / make them cry or make them laugh / tea or coffee / happy ending or bittersweet/ morning or afternoon or night / comic sans or times new roman or arial / google docs or word  

Tagging @oneawkwardcookie @lire-casander @221bsunsettowers @bibright @tarlosbuddie @marjansmarwani @immortalstrand @silvarafael @maddieandchimney @tabbytabbytabby

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Is there somewhere - BTS royal / bodyguard au Drabble part 4

So after this I was thinking of writing some prequels to the Drabble series before moving ahead with time and the challenges these lovely characters would face ongoing. Same with the CEO drabbles, as always let me know what you think {angst and fluff ahead}

Prev | Next

————————————————————————————————————————

You hadn’t seen them for a month. You told yourself you were glad, that it didn’t hurt you that they gave up. You asked them to leave, you would stick by that, and this proved you right.

These things happened for a reason, you tell yourself, and while life was still a dense cloud hanging over you, it didn’t rain. Since that night trouble stopped following you, no one approached you in the clubs, the paparazzi stopped following you, you felt safe again, by yourself without any bodyguards.

“I haven’t seen you in so long Y/n,” your childhood friend sat across from you at a little quaint cafe in the town closest to your castle. You would have invited her to your place but the mess increased tenfold, that being said, you think your father must be sending people to clean while you were out. He hadn’t said anything about it, you were grateful he hadn’t, you weren’t ready to have that conversation with the King. He was always too busy for you, so this gesture came as a shock.

“I’ve missed you Y/n,” Sana says taking your hand in hers and squeezing it earnestly. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“You don’t need to worry I’m okay,” you say reassuringly.

“Y/n it’s a cloudy day and you’re wearing sunglasses,” you take by her sarcasm she doesn’t sound convinced.

“I’ve got a headache that’s all,” you bury your head behind the brunch menu, pretending to look over the options as she hums in response. It had been years but she still knew you well, and this was nothing like you were.

“Who hurt my friend?” She asks reading through your behaviour like she read the newspaper articles about it online, hence the impromptu visit from half a world away despite her own busy schedule.

“Doesn’t matter, it’s in the past,” and yet it’s still so present. The wound might be healing but it was leaving a red swollen scar in its place.

She lets the subject drop noticing how your shield goes up.

“Your bodyguard is really hot, if you wanted to invite him in to join us I wouldn’t mind,” she wiggles her eyebrows playfully, trying to lighten the mood but her words have the opposite effect on you.

“My what?” You breathe, you don’t have bodyguards. You turn to face where her eyes are set behind you and sure enough, outside the glass windows trying to look conspicuous is a man in a suit you’d recognise anywhere. You hate how your heart starts to ache as it beats faster, how there’s a hum of electricity starting to burn under your skin.

“Is that not your bodyguard? You used to talk about them so much, that’s....” she squints her eyes at the male, who bows his head in panic realising he’s been caught. “Jin! Right?”

Every time you FaceTimed Sana one of the boys would be with you, not on the screen unless it was Jin or Jimin but professionally standing out of the cameras range staying with you trying not to smile as you gushed about them with her, begging one of them to say hello. Yoongi and Taehyung were the only ones to ever give in. They would say hello shyly before standing at their post, Jin and Jimin on the other hand would sit on the bed or sofa with you. Jimin would make you blush and tease you while talking to Sana, Jin would tell her all your bad habits and complain about you playfully. Namjoon and Hobi never gave in, you were close to breaking Jungkook’s resolve before he left.

“I’ll be right back,” you say to her, rising from your seat to walk to the guilty looking male who’s ears have turned red. He says something in his sleeve and you realise the others must be close by or at least contactable. It all suddenly makes sense, you hadn’t seen them, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. The house, your father was far too busy to burden himself with your mess, the sudden calm around you where normally there’d be a bustle of cameras and people.

“Princess,” he greets you bashfully, embarrassed for getting caught and complicating things. “Funny seeing you here, I was just waiting for a friend...”

“Liar,” you whisper, but it’s loud enough to shut him up.

“I can explain,” his cheeks are going red like his ears, you don’t know what you feel. There’s an emptiness that presents its self in his presence, like your body is trying to protect itself by going numb, even though your heart is begging you not to.

“I don’t want to hear it right now,” you close your eyes at the wave of sadness that overwhelms you. “I think you need to leave.”

You repeat your words from a month ago and it still cuts through him the same as it did then.

“I can’t...” he shuffles awkwardly from foot to foot.

“Jin you’re not my bodyguard anymore, this is harassment,” your cold eyes pierce through him but he stands strong against your onslaught.

“Actually...” he tries to chuckle but it dies as soon as it leaves his mouth. “Well you see, w-we- no your father... the king,” there’s a pause as he clears his throat and his hesitation irritates you.

“We’ve been reinstated as your bodyguards by order of the King,” a new voice behind you saves the stuttering man in front. You can’t help the fists form at your side as your mouth sets itself in a line. You turn to face Namjoon with a stern expression.

“No.” He knew you’d be stubborn, he knew it was a little underhanded of them, but after that day they couldn’t leave you like this. They would give you space, hope they could redeem themselves slowly, but they also had to keep you safe. They didn’t care you were next in line for the throne, they didn’t care their feelings for you were inappropriate in their line of work, you meant the world to them, you were their friend, and they couldn’t leave you again.

“I’m really sorry Princess, but the decisions been made,” he answers you sincerely. “We won’t get in your way, you won’t know we’re here, bu-”

“I said no,” your lips are tight, eyes enraged as you clench your jaw. He sighs, but he knows it would take time to heal the rift between you and the seven men.

You were right when you thought the rest of them were close behind, Yoongi and Jimin walk into your field of vision behind Namjoon, blazers buttoned, Jimin’s hair jelled back, Yoongi’s hand in his pocket. The sight takes you back and it knocks your confidence a little.

“Well that’s treason Princess,” Yoongi reasons with a small smirk forming on his face. “I guess that would get rid of us for you, being beheaded by the King.”

You shake your head is disbelief, a big sigh leaving your lips as you close your eyes to gather strength.

“I can’t do this right now,” you walk away back to your friend who’s eyes haven’t left the interaction. “I’ll deal with this later.”

——————————————————————————

You wonder what happened to their promise to stay out of sight and out of mind the following Saturday.

Maybe you walked through the bad part of town on purpose, maybe you wanted to piss them off or put yourself in danger, maybe you just wanted some control. A man that looks like trouble wolf whistles as you walk in his direction, and you smile like he’s your salvation. You don’t make it another two steps as a hand grabs your arm forcefully. You turn to find an angry Hoseok glaring at the man now cat calling you before turning his glare to you, nostrils flared like a bull about to charge.

You physically have to stop yourself from gulping at his aura, you know if pushed Hobi would cause harm to anyone that disrespected you. His grip on your arm tightens as the man doesn’t stop yelling profanities at you, he’s obviously intoxicated not that it excused his behaviour. Hobi hadn’t spoken a word, you can see him trying to ground himself and his anger, starting to lose his control, trying to regain his cool.

The guilt washes over you at his gaze, your smirk long gone as you struggle to keep eye contact. He hasn’t seen your face soften like this in so long, a glimpse of the old you coming back with concern.

“Hobi I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Let’s just go.”

His eyes are shut and he’s shaking with fury, at the man, at you, at himself.

“Hobi please,” you cup his cheek with your palm, stroking your thumb against his skin, feeling panic rising in yourself. The man is in front of you both now and you feel shame for making such a stupid decision. You press your forehead against his jaw as he stares daggers at the man.

“Your boyfriend giving you problems sexy?” He wears a shit eating grin as he speaks. “You looking for a bit of fun?”

Your touch calms your bodyguard enough to clear the haze of anger that threatens to attack the man where he stands. He releases a big breath before taking your wrist and walking you both away, pace unforgiving.

He still doesn’t say a word as you both get to the car, he pulls open the backseat door aggressively, looking at you expectedly. You don’t argue, you don’t scoff, you don’t walk away. Your eyes are round, looking up at him, begging for forgiveness. How the tables turn.

You get in without complaint, flinching as he slams the door shut. He gets into the drivers seat, putting his seat belt on before staring at you through the rear view mirror, jaw still clenched. You look lost, he hasn’t started the car and he hasn’t stopped staring at you.

“The seatbelt Y/n,” it’s a low growl and you quickly move to lock yours in place at his tone. Your heart is beating so fast you think it’s trying to escape. You don’t blame it, your hands are curled on your knees like a child ready to be scolded and you can’t look ahead as he pulls off.

——————————————————————————

You didn’t say a word the whole journey, scared a single sound would set him off. His grip was unrelenting on the wheel, you don’t think he cooled down at all even though he made sure he wasn’t driving recklessly with you in the car.

He doesn’t take you back to the castle, he takes you to their place. They rarely used to be at home when they worked for you, the castle was large enough for them to stay and they had no reason not to. You hesitate to leave the vehicle when Hobi opens the door for you, he’s patient even through his fury. He holds a hand out for you to take like they used to.

You want to ask him what you’re doing here, why he’s brought you, but you decide to take his hand and let him lead you indoors.

“Princess?” It’s odd to see Jungkook in his normal clothes, to see any of them in their casual wear, it looks homely. They all stare between you and Hobi, looking confused as you both walked into the living room.

You were staring at the floor as he explained where you were when he was on duty, the others now looked at you in shock and disappointment. It was hard for you to hear too, like he was talking about someone else, another girl, you wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“Princess this really has to stop,” it’s Jimin that breaks the silence after Hobi’s speech. His usual sweet disposition was wiped away with worry. “I get it, we messed up, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself Y/n.”

You don’t raise your head to meet his words, you stay with your eyes down and feet cemented where you stood. There’s a finger under your chin but you move your head to the side to avoid it bringing your face up.

“We’re really sorry,” Taehyung whispers beside you.

They blamed themselves for everything you had been through since the moment they left, but how could they undo it, how could they make this okay? His words don’t comfort you, they hurt you, they bring up the night they left all over again. But you feel the sincerity in his words, how hoarse it sounds, filled with every desire to turn the clock back. It brings tears to your eyes, it makes you choke on the emotion rising in your throat. You want it to be okay too, but you couldn’t erase the abandonment they left you with.

There’s a hand rubbing your back soothingly as your bottom lip trembles and your shoulders shake trying to keep the sobs down.

“It’s okay,” the hand on your back moves to your hair, and Taehyung rests his lips on your temple as he speaks. “We hurt you Princess, shout at us, let it out, cry, just stop holding it in.”

If you did as he said it would make you vulnerable again, you’d be letting them in and you don’t know if you’re ready for that. But he wasn’t wrong, holding all the pain down without a healthy form of release was making that gaping hole in your chest erode the rest of you away.

“I’m-m s-so a-angry-” you struggle to get your words out, having to take a shallow breathe with each word as they came out in a sob and it physically hurt you to speak. “At all o-of you.”

Tae’s crying too, Jungkook’s behind you but you can hear him sniffle. You lean into the Taehyung, pushing your face into his neck as you close your eyes and break down, he doesn’t hesitate to bring his arms around you when you think you’re about to fall.

“You had each other,” you wail, not caring at how deranged you sounded. “I had no one, you left me when I was injured!” Your head drops to his chest as you bang your fist against Taehyung’s chest finally letting it all out, and he takes it without bracing himself for each hit. “I needed you and you guys broke me.

Who was I supposed to talk to? Do you know how ridiculous it sounds to the people of my world. My bodyguards abandoned me, so fucking what? Get new ones.”

You grip his top that’s stained with your tears, you’re so angry, so heartbroken and the only people that would listen and help where the ones to cause you this pain.

“But you weren’t just my guards, you were my friends and I thought you all felt the same.”

There’s a whisper of “we do” but you ignore it.

They’ve never seen you like this, not when Taeyeon revealed her true colours, not when Sana moved away, you had said goodbye to people before, it was a part of life but nothing compared to when they left you, and you knew why, you just didn’t want to admit to it out loud. You didn’t want their pity, the pathetic Princess who had no friends who fell in love with her knights in shining armour, the people who were employed to ensure your safety. Misplaced feelings because you had no one else, you could hear Namjoon’s lecture already. They had never see you that way, if they had they wouldn’t have left.

If only you knew the thoughts running through the rest of their brains, how could they tell you they were compromised, that they broke your trust by falling for you, that every protocol dictated to them in their training stated they couldn’t keep a charge safe if they had feelings for them, they had to resign. Looking back it was the worst decision they ever made, but at the time it seemed like the most appropriate.

You scoff through your tears, “if you felt the same you would’ve at least come to see me, but you didn’t, you would’ve at least called or texted but you blocked my number, I tried to contact you everyday for the first two weeks and it was like you all didn’t exist anymore.”

There’s a grasp softly pulling you out of Taehyung’s hold and he whines as you’re taken away. Namjoon’s eyes are red, he looks like he’s on the brink of tears himself, but he holds it together.

“We’re so sorry Y/n,” he could never stop saying it, even if he did earn your forgiveness it could never assuage the guilt that weighed on them. “We honestly thought it was the right thing to do, if we kne-”

“On what planet was that ever the right thing to do Joon?” You cut him off, you didn’t want excuses.

“We made a mistake, leaving you was a mistake but we made one before that,” you frown at his words, what mistake? He contemplates his words but there’s no way mince them, no way to make what he’s about to say any easier. He’s not trying to make excuses, he’s not trying to justify his behaviour he just wanted to be honest. “We fell in love with our charge, the biggest offence we could commit, the biggest threat to your safety was us.”

He watches your eyes go wide as tears streamed down your face, he waited for your disgust, your displeasure.

“We are so in love with you Princess, it killed us to leave you but you have to believe me when I say we thought it was for the best.”

You can’t breathe. He wants you to say something, he needs you to say something, anything. You just stare at him in disbelief until you find the words to speak.

“Are you so stupid?” You gasp, gaze flickering to all their faces, theyre holding their breaths. “Are you all so blind that you couldn’t see that I was in love with you too?”

It was Namjoon’s turn to stare at you in disbelief, their jaws dropped.

“How stupid could you be Namjoon! Did you even think for a seco-” your voice is muffled by his chest as he pulls you into him, and he finally lets himself cry. You were right he was so stupid, he always prided himself on his intellect but look at the mess he made. He holds you like he’d never let you go, tight like you’d disappear in his arms.

“I’m so sorry Y/n, I’m so sorry,” he whimpers and it breaks your heart, you’ve never heard the leader sound like this. You sigh deeply in his arms, warmth finally starting to fill the hole.

“It’ll be alright Joonie,” you hug him back and he’s so grateful for you in that moment. “We’ll work through it.”

You have to believe that you will. More arms wrap around you both, tears of relief, tears of hope mixed with apologetic whispers, words of comfort. You feel the warmest you have in months.

[lazuli-bloom]

Roses and Styx

Chapter 1 - An Inconvenient Attachment

Beetlejuice x Reader

Word Count : 5365

Sure life wasn’t always easy, it had it’s ups and downs, but you were doing alright for yourself. Mostly. However when you find a strange sight while on your lunch break one autumn afternoon, your life gets all the more unusual.

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--=--=--

The sun beat down on you, unobstructed by a single cloud in the vibrant blue sky. A pleasant breeze wafted by, chilling the heat of the sun’s kiss. Summer was in its death throes, but stayed determined to linger as long as possible. It gave an odd contrast to the scenery. The blazing warmth of a summer sun illuminating the turning leaves and tombstones on that early October afternoon.

You sat on a stone bench enjoying your lunch in the quiet peace of the graveyard. Most people avoided visits to the cemetery, not wanting to keep the company of the dead. You, however, frequented it. With few visitors and lovely Gothic inspired architecture, the cemetery made a relaxing place for lunch breaks. Plus, it was only a short walk from your job.

While there were benches throughout the graveyard, your favorite spot was one off in the corner and closest to the gate. That day, however, there had been a funeral held in that corner of the cemetery. So as not to impose, you picked a different bench to occupy. You tried to not let your gaze stay fixed on the graveside service, but the task proved to be easier said than done. The funeral repeatedly pulled your attention back to it by partly virtue of being an event you’ve rarely seen.

Many people, dressed in black, all focused on one grave. Most of the figures standing there were adults, but among the crowd were children clinging onto parents. The group was too far to get a proper look at any of the mourners, but there was one that stuck out. A man, slightly broad in build, wore a peculiar striped suit with wide vertical bars in black and white. You noted the clothing choice as strange, but tried not to judge. Perhaps he wasn’t able to get a solid black suit on short notice.

The strange pattern of the suit made it easy to pick him out against the other mourners. He didn’t stay still. He moved around, seeming to want to get other’s attention only to be ignored. The man’s bizarre actions, coupled with the indifference of the crowd, were major reasons you kept glancing back to the funeral.

You shake your head and check your phone, almost two o’clock. Time to head back to work. You grab your trash and get up with a stretch. With one last glance back to the funeral, you find the striped suit man looking back your way. You pay him no mind and check your phone once more before heading to leave.

To wring the most time and relaxation out of your lunch, you amble back to the hardware store. You turn to the next street where brick shops sat side by side. On the corner was a shop with a rounded, sun-faded green awning stretched over most of the front facade. Your eye glanced over the printed “Rose Creek Hardware” in yellow letters for what must have been the millionth time.

The bell above the door chimed as you stepped inside. To your left an older mustached man stood behind the front counter. He wore a light blue button down under a green apron, both tight around his rounder stomach. He gave you a warm smile that you returned.

“Back from lunch already, Cass?”

“Yeah. It’s really nice out today, I can hardly believe it’s October already.”

“Hopefully, when I get the Halloween decorations up, it’ll give things a more autumn feel.”

“Can’t wait to see it, Mr. Turner! Oh, and is Sam still here? Or have they left already?”

“They’re still around. Sam was helping the new hire.”

You nod and make your way behind the counter to retrieve your apron. After you get the strings tied, you do a sweep of the store. You found Sam in the back corner pulling merchandise forward. They didn’t notice you straight away, so you softened your footsteps for your approach. You stayed at their back until they turned enough one way that you could slip around to their side and not get caught in Sam’s peripheral. Once close enough to the shelving yourself, you slap your hands down on a bare spot- “-Missed a spot!”

Sam seized up, grabbing the shelf for support. “Geez, dude! You trying to kill me?” A wide grin breaks across your face. You chuckle to yourself as Sam regained some composure. They took a breath, shot you a glare, and got back to work.

“Heard you were training the new guy.”

“Yeah, he left already.”

“What’s he like?”

“Eh. Kinda boring? White bread personified, if you ask me. Dude came in with a dress shirt and tie.”

You shrug and start helping pull forward items. While turning products to have labels front-facing you continue on with your conversation. “Sounds like all I’ll have left to talk to will be Mr. Turner.”

There was a pause in that moment, and a sting of sorrow poked at your heart. You do your best to smother the feeling and focus on your work. It’s better to cherish the moment. You force yourself to smile and keep your chat going.

“So, there was a funeral today-”

Sam groaned and rolled their eyes at you. “You went to that creepy graveyard again? How are you not haunted?”

“Hey! I told you, it’s close by and usually quiet. I enjoy taking my lunches there. Anyway, there was a funeral and one guy there was in a weird suit with black and white stripes. Kinda like the Hamburglar.”

“I swear. You’re a magnet for the weirdest shit. It’s all those shitty movies you watch that seep into your head. How the hell do you not get nightmares?”

You stay silent and look over the product in your hand as your mind wandered back to your most recent nightmare. Piercing blue dots masked in shadow, watching every move you made. You shake your head to dismiss the thought.

You huff out a small laugh. “Guess that stuff just doesn’t get to me.”

“Whatever. Just don’t let any of your weirdness rub off on my cat.”

You press your lips into a tight line and tap your finger against the pliers in hand. “You sure there isn’t anywhere else he can go?”

“Cassie, I already told you I checked.”

“I’m just worried. I don’t think this is a good idea. My apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

“It’s just for two weeks. I’ll pick him up on the sixteenth. Hell, that’s not even a full two weeks, just thirteen days. You’ll be fine.” Sam finished with their side of the aisle and took a step back. “When do you want me to drop him off?”

You breathe out through your nose and make a noise somewhere between a hum and a groan. “Seven should be alright. Donna’s always heads out to the bars on Saturdays, so it should be clear by then.”

“You need to lighten up and not worry so much. Maybe a cute roommate is exactly what you need.”

You don’t give a reply and go back to work. The two of you split off and start tackling other sections of the store. Time marched on, and all too soon, Sam’s last shift ended. Mr. Turner bid them a farewell with a handshake and handed Sam their last paycheck. You give them a small wave and focus back on your task. You knew full well you were going to see them later that night, so you didn’t see the point of having a drawn out goodbye right then.

Once Sam left, the rest of the day dragged on slower than a sloth on crutches. When there weren’t any customers needing help, you talked with Mr. Turner. It gave you something to do, sure, but time still crawled.

That day was one of the worst kinds you can have in retail. The kind that’s just slow enough you bored out of your mind, and peppered with enough customers that you couldn’t slack off and dick around on the store’s desktop. It’s like they coordinated to space themselves out to be the most annoying.

As grueling as it took to get there, five-thirty eventually rolled around. You and the boss took the last half hour to close the store. Sweep, wipe down the counters, count the till, all that good stuff. You were in the middle of dusting when Mr. Turner handed you an envelope. You thanked him and opened it to count the bills inside. Five whole Benjamins. With another thanks, you move the bills into your wallet and get back to dusting.

Once all finished, you headed out, followed by your boss. He locked the front door and walked with you around the side to the small parking lot. He hopped into his old pickup while you climbed into your little junker. The bucket of rust masquerading as a car was on its way out, but you planned on getting every mile out of it you could. Mr. Turner had driven off by the time you coaxed your car into starting. The car sputtered and hissed, but you got the clunker going.

The drive to your apartment complex was as mundane and silent as ever. Your only option for music was to sing it yourself, since the previous owner had beaten the hell out of the radio. CDs weren’t an option either as the owner before the last had stuffed the disc slot full of cookies. For what reason remained a mystery.

You drum your fingers on the steering wheel as you drove, watching familiar sites go by as you neared your apartment. Nicer well-kept buildings and streets slowly turned to the more rundown variety. The street grew more broken and in increasingly desperate need of repairs as you went.

Building after building, you passed by until finally it was time to turn off. You pull up to your complex’s parking lot, just as run down as the roads leading to it. Two buildings sat facing each other, both in contest for which one can be the most rundown. Your building nudged ahead of its twin with the recent addition of graffiti marring the exterior.

You park in your designated spot, managing to not bump up against the two cars encroaching on your space. You worm your way out without adding anymore dents to the black sedan, and head to the complex’s front door. Standing near the door with a cigarette between clawed yellowed fingers was a scrawny older woman with a perpetual sneer on her wrinkled face. Cold steel eyes narrowed at you as you dared to approach the harpy.

“Hi Donna. How are you?”

“Parker! Where’s the rest of your rent?”

You force a smile to mask the spike of irritation. This harpy is going to be the death of you. You clear your throat to help prevent your ire from bleeding out into your tone.

“Right here, Donna. I get my pay on Saturdays.”

“Not my problem. Rent is due in full on the first. Today is the third.”

“I tried paying you last Saturday, but you-”

“The first, you stupid child. Not Before. Not after.”

“Yes Donna, I know. I’m sorry, I needed to replace a flat tire an-.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. Just pay the rest of your rent and get out of my sight. You worthless leech, can’t even follow basic instructions.”

You press your lips into a tighter line to keep yourself from screaming at the horrid bat. It was best to bite your tongue and get the interaction over and done with as quick as you could. You pull out your wallet and hand over four bills. It was nice while it lasted.

Donna snatched the money from you and promptly counted it. Once satisfied, she took a long drag off her cigarette. She ordered you to leave while smoke seeped out of her mouth like a dragon.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You hurried off to your apartment, climbing the stairs to the second floor and making a beeline for your door at the end of the hall.

You shut the door, leaning against it and breathed out a deep breath. After calming yourself some, you set your keys on the counter by the door and step further into your little abode.

You make your way back to the small living room and crash on the dingy brown love-seat, tossing your phone onto the stained coffee table. You lean back and stare at the ceiling. A boring white painted over heavy popcorn texture, collecting all kinds of dust. You close your eyes and let your mind wander, wanting to squeeze some relaxation time out of the rest of the day. Too bad your phone rang.

Sam called to tell you they were on their way with the cat. You told them to be careful and not let Donna see them on the off chance that she hadn’t left for the bar yet. Sam, however, brushed aside your concerns and told you not to be so worried. You pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned at that. Sam wasn’t the one that had to deal with Donna and hopefully never will.

It wasn’t until a long while later that there was a knock at your front door. A quick check through the peephole showed you Sam was on the other side with a backpack and pet carrier. You open the door and hurry them inside. Sam stepped in, stopping in the space between the kitchen and living area, and looked over the place.

“Wow. This place is shitty.”

“Thanks, hadn’t noticed.”

Sam set the carrier down on your couch, and the cat inside growled in a low tone. Sam took off their backpack next and handed that one over to you.

“Here’s all of Rigel’s things; food, bowls, litter box, toys. I’ll be back in town to get the last of my stuff on the sixteenth, and I’ll pay you then.”

“I thought we agreed half now and half when you got back?”

“It’ll be easier to just pay you all at once.”

You drum your fingers on your thigh and let out a sigh. “Alright, fine. It will be nice to get two hundred dollars all at once.”

“See! You fuss over the smallest things.”

You change the topic by offering Sam something to drink but they declined. Sam still needed to pack up a few more boxes before the end of the night. You nod and give a small wave goodbye, only for Sam to pull you into a hug. Your muscles tense up, but you did your best to return Sam’s sudden hug.

There was a unique funk around Sam that made the hug even more challenging to bear. An overly strong lavender tried and failed to cover some mix of sweat and burnt coffee. Sam left shortly after, telling you to just call them should you need anything. You nodded and waved them off.

Once they left, you turn to Rigel stuck in his carrier. His hissing got louder the closer you got to the carrier, and was full on slashing at the front when you reached down to open it.

You recoil and let him be for the moment, choosing to set up his things in the bathroom instead. While your bathroom was on the smaller side, it seemed big enough for one cat to stay in. You pack up all the various toiletries that a bored cat might knock down and set out Rigel’s things. Litter box in the corner across from the shower stall, while his food and water were against the opposite wall between the door and the sink.

With that set up you go get the carrier. You did your best not to jostle it too much, but Rigel wasn’t pleased and let you know. He let out some of the most chilling demonic screeches as he knocked against the fabric carrier, desperate to break loose and slaughter you. You set the carrier down in the closet, closing one of the bi-fold doors so he had a dark corner to hide in. You braced yourself with a few steadying breaths before swiftly unzipping the front. Once open, you pull your hand back and leave the bathroom completely, making sure the door shut behind you.

You did your best to salvage the rest of your night, enjoying your cup of noodles while watching a movie. It was a B-Movie slasher about a supernatural being going on a killing spree in Las Vegas. And this somehow led to the being going to space in the next film. Overall, it was pretty cheesy, but got a few laughs from you.

Soon you had to wrap things up and head to bed. You sneak into the bathroom to swipe your toothbrush and clean them at the kitchen sink that night, and probably for the next two weeks. With a yawn and a stretch you change into sleepwear and crawl into your bed.

Sleep didn’t come to you easily, but it wasn’t a night full of endless tossing and turning, either. The rest you got didn’t feel like enough, as the buzzing of your alarm woke you too early for your liking.

You sat up rubbing your eyes and checked your phone for the time. The small screen on the back of the thin flip phone showed the time was seven o’ two. You heave out a sigh and pull the warm covers off.

While your body went through the motions of your morning routine, your mind wandered back to the images you saw in your dream. An island floated in the middle of a dark ocean with storm clouds rumbling high above. The cold wet sand pricked against your bare feet like needles, yet you kept on walking. You had found yourself on a rickety dock at least fifteen feet above the violent waves below. There was nothing around you, but you knew you weren’t alone. Down below, lurking beneath the water, two hungry orbs of blue glared up at you, waiting. Expecting. When you didn’t move from your perch, the beast thrashed at the pillars of the dock. You lost your footing and tumbled down to the abyss.

You shook your head, forcing your thoughts to jump back to the present. Chills ran down your spine as the nightmare crawled around in the back of your mind, clawing its way forward. You stuffed it as far back as possible and carried on with your morning.

You soon were out the door and on your way to work. You grip the toilet paper wrapped over your forearm, letting the lines of blood soak into it so it can better rest on your arm. Rigel had given you a few nasty scratches when you got him fresh water, the ungrateful bastard. At least there’s a first aid kit at work.

The bell above the door chimed as you looked at the time on your phone. The damn cat almost made you late for work. You make your way to the back room to grab your apron, only to bump into a man turning the corner. It took a second to get your bearings and notice you ran right into Mr. Turner.

“Oh shit. Sorry, sir.”

He laughed and waved you off. “Morning Cass, see you’re in a hurry.”

“Ah- no, well, kinda. I hit every red light getting here and-”

“You’re fine, don’t worry. No need to rush. Just get your apron and I’ll introduce you to the new guy.”

You nod and scurry back to grab the green apron. It hung by itself on the hooks, speckled in paint and smudges. By that point the thing was overdue to get tossed and replaced, but the same thing would end up happening to the next apron.

You throw it on and tie it behind yourself before going out to the sales floor. Mr. Turner stood next to a man younger than himself but older than you. The boss was the first to notice you and gave another wave. “There they are.”

The new guy turned and flashed you a wide smile, showing off straight white teeth in a hollow smile. Tamping down the disquiet, you force yourself to offer a smile in return. The man strode up to you and held out a hand. “Great to meet you, I’m Brandon! Mr. Turner was just telling me how great of a worker you are-” He squinted at your apron before going back to that fake smile- “Art. Interesting name.”

“Thanks,” you said, and hesitated a moment before taking his hand for a brief shake. On contact that strange buzz of discomfort shot from your palm through the rest of your arm. Once your hand was free, you fight the urge to rub off the non-existent traces of him. There wasn’t anything there, nothing real, and you knew that, but more than anything you wanted that feeling gone and the only way for it to leave was to brush it off. Why did people have to insist on handshakes, just needless physical contact with strangers? It’s stupid, and you hated it.

For the first half of your shift the boss had you go over the day-to-day tasks with Brandon. There were few customers in the store that Sunday morning, so you mostly had the guy pull forward merchandise and clean some shelves. Brandon did the tasks, but they all came with questions. Most of the questions were mundane things about the products stocked, store hours, and what times saw the most customers. The problem came when Brandon veered his questions towards you personally.

“So, is Art short for anything?”

“Artemis.”

Your answer was short and pointed. You already didn’t like that he was the type to read name tags over asking for someone’s name.

“Interesting. So you from around here?”

A shiver shot through you, and you’re quick to stop that line of questions. You ignore the question entirely, instead cutting in to tell him to finish front-facing the aisle while you go check on Mr. Turner.

The day dragged on until finally getting to your lunch break. Brandon, thankfully, caught on that you weren’t one to disclose much about yourself to a new face. However, that didn’t make the morning smooth sailing. You grab your lunch and speed off to the cemetery, eager to get a break from Brandon.

Your usual bench was free, and you took your place to enjoy lunch. Munching on your meal, you take in the sights, finding a serenity in the quiet. The sun shined brightly, causing some of the glossier headstones to reflect the rays. You hum to yourself and scan over the graveyard. To your surprise, you spotted someone in the far corner opposite you. Your brows furrowed, perplexed by the other. You watched the figure, curious of what they’re doing.

They wandered from gravestone to gravestone, kicking at the earth with hands stuffed into pockets. The build of the figure suggested a man, and one dressed in monochrome. You squint your eyes at them making sure you weren’t mistaken; but no, that was the same bizarre suit you saw a man wearing the day prior.

You keep your gaze fixed on him, wanting to figure out why he might be here a second day in a row visiting completely different graves. Did the man simply like to visit graveyards and have a limited wardrobe? If so, you didn’t want to comment on the matter out of fear of shattering the glass house.

You ate lunch with glances at the man. You wanted to piece together why he might be there. He wasn’t mourning; he moved from one grave to the next as if searching for something. The man in the weird suit went down one row of graves, heading away from you, only to hit the end and turn back for the next row.

You forced yourself to not look at him for fear of getting caught. But your curiosity burned, and you chanced a look up. He didn’t notice you, too engrossed in whatever he was doing. Embolden by that, you continue to munch away at your food and sneak glances at him. That is, until you swallowed wrong and went into a coughing fit.

You got your breathing under control a minute later and checked to see if he noticed. And oh boy, did he notice. The man was staring straight at you. It was awkward enough to get caught looking, but you noticed the man closing the gap between you two. He was still at the far end with well over two hundred feet between you, but you didn’t want to stick around and have that plummet to single digits.

Nope. You scoop up your belongings and speed-walk straight back to the store. You didn’t even chance a look behind you. Eyes forward and keep moving. You weren’t sure if he was actually still following; you didn’t hear any footsteps behind you. So that seemed like a good sign.

You blew past the door, bell violently chiming, and you made a beeline for the back. Your heart pounded against your ribs, wanting to break free and make a run for it. You take quick breaths, forcing the next to be longer than the last to get yourself to calm down. In the middle of collecting yourself, Mr. Turner walked into the back area with worry knitted on his brow.

“Cass, you alright? What’s wrong?”

“Is there a man in a striped suit in the store?”

He gave you a puzzled look, but left to do a sweep of the store. He came back half a minute later, shaking his head. “No, no one’s in the store dressed like that. What happened?”

“Nothing really. I just saw him in the cemetery and it looked like he was starting to follow me.”

He frowned. “Well, you just come to me if any creep is giving you a hard time. I’ll knock his teeth out for you.”

You manage a smile and nod. You take a few more breaths to calm down before you grab your apron. Things were going to be okay. The guy might not have even seen what store you went into. Heck, that guy probably didn’t even leave the cemetery. And even if he did, Mr. Turner was there to help you out of a tight spot. You smile a little brighter and step out onto the sales floor where you see the stripe suit guy looking at paint chips.

A strangled scream catches in your throat. You step back, dipping back into the employee’s only area of the store before he could see you. What the Hell were you going to do now? You couldn’t hide back there all day.

You push aside the fabric curtain dividing the sales floor from the back, and get a look at the man. With him much closer, you could see his green hair and the distressed look of his suit. He leaned forward, looking over the paint colors. Maybe he didn’t know you were back there. If so, you could wait in the back for a few minutes for him to just leave.

You close the curtain and slip your hands into your apron pockets. Your fingers brush over cool metal, and your thumb flicks up the slider on the side. It wasn’t much, but it was certainly better than nothing. Box cutter in hand, you look back out.

The stranger stayed put in front of the paint colors. You take a shallow breath, prepping yourself to go out. In the middle of psyching yourself up, you see Brandon wander over to the paint section. Hope bubbles up in you. The new guy can take care of him for you.

Brandon scanned over the section. He pushed down some color chips, looked over the desk before looking your way.

“Art! There you are.”

Brandon’s voice bellowed in the small store, not only earning a squeak from you but also causing the stranger to turn and look. You yank the curtain closed, hoping the man in the monochrome stripes didn’t get a good look at you.

Brandon parted the curtain a moment later and looked you over with knit brows and lips in a thin line. “Art, what are you doing back here? I don’t think it looks very professional for an employee to skulk around in the back all day.”

“The guy over at paint followed me from the cemetery.”

Brandon raised a brow at you. “There aren’t any customers in the store, and certainly not in paint, I would have seen them.” He pulled open the curtain with a flourish to reveal the man standing just on the other side. “See, no one’s there.”

Your eyes dart between the idiot holding back the curtain and the green-haired man tilting his head some with a grin plastered on his face. Thought processing came to a crawl as you tried making sense of what you were seeing. Your gaze lands on Brandon in the end.

“You don’t see anyone there?”

He rolled his eyes and looked back out to the sales floor. He then looked back at you with brows knitted further. “No, there’s no one there, Artemis. Perhaps you should stop taking your lunches in the cemetery if they’re just going to put scary thoughts in your head.”

Brandon frowned at you before stepping out onto the sales floor, going right through the man in the striped suit. He stopped to shiver, only to keep walking a second later. Once he left, your wide eyes landed on the man still standing there, still grinning and showing off sharp yellowed teeth.

“Hi there!”

Nope. Nope nope nope. You grab your box cutter and pull it out to point at the guy. And without a word you push aside the curtain more and go around the man. The man whined at your action and followed you.

“Come on babes! Don’t ignore me, I know you can see me!”

You keep walking, heading straight for Mr. Turner. He turns to you at your approach and the small smile fades from his face. “Cass? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The gravelly laugh behind you sent shivers down your spine. You did your best to shake off the feeling and forced a smile.

“I’m not feeling too good. I was hoping I could go home early today.”

His lips sink further into a frown, but he gave you a nod. “It’s fine by me. But what about that man you were talking about that followed you from the cemetery? Are you going to be okay?”

The man behind you continued to laugh. You tighten your hands into fists, the metal of the box cutter pressing hard into the flesh of your hand.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay Mr. Turner. See you tomorrow.”

He nodded, and you handed over your apron while keeping the box cutter in hand. You offer one last quick goodbye and head out the door, the bell only chiming once. You march down the sidewalk and hear the strange man continuing to talk.

“So, babes, where are we heading?”

You pause at your car door. You take a few quick breaths and finally respond to this... person. “I’m going home. I’m obviously not feeling well and seeing things that aren’t there.”

You slip into your car and promptly lock all the doors. You heave a sigh and lean against the steering wheel as your brain sorts through all this nonsense. A groan rumbles in your throat and you lean back in your seat. In your peripheral, the man in the striped suit sat in your passenger seat sporting a sharp grin. Well shit.

[ad1thi]

ripped at every edge

Summary:

Tony’s at MIT when he finds out. 

(Or: the days After Tony finds out his parents are dead)

for @spiderrpcrker

//

Tony’s at MIT when he finds out.

Specifically, Tony is on his knees, between the thick thighs of one of Rhodey’s frat brothers, Ryan, who’s had a fair amount to drink and decided that he wants to experiment with his sexuality - leading to an extremely enjoyable set of events that culminated in Tony loosening his throat and swallowing his dick when he gets the call.

He pulls off Ryan's dick with a wet pop, licking the tip of his dick in silent apology as he fishes his pager to see a 9-1-1 from Rhodey blinking up at him - buzzing in the palm of his hand.

“One second,” he says to Ryan, pulling at his sleeve so he can wipe the spit around his mouth, “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.”

Except, Tony doesn’t go anywhere, because he opens the door to see Rhodey on the other side, fist raised as if he was about to knock; a morose look on his face.

Tony’s never seen that look on Rhodey’s face before, not in the two years he’s known him - which, admittedly, isn’t an extremely long amount of time, but is enough time for Tony to know that the look on Rhodey’s face doesn’t mean good news.

A pit starts growing in his stomach.

“What?” he says, stronger than he means to, but he can’t stand Rhodey looking at him like that for a second longer, it makes him watch to crawl out of his own skin, “What is it?”

“The police stopped by our apartment an hour ago,” Rhodey starts, and then falters, and then continues, “It’s your parents Tony.”

“What about them?” he scrunches up his nose, “Did something happen to them? Did something happen to my Ma?”

“Tony they -” Rhodey looks past his shoulder, as if realising Ryan with his semi hard dick out for the first time, “This really isn’t the right place for this. Let’s go home.”

Tony wants to argue, wants to dig his heels in like a little kid and insist that Rhodey tell him now, but Rhodey’s still got that morose look on his face; like he wants to pull Tony in and never let him go. 

Tony doesn’t know how to deal with that look aimed at him, not from Rhodey, so he just nods quietly.

“Hey!” Ryan cries from the bed, speech slurred, “What about me?”

Tony throws a baleful look over your shoulder, “You’ve got two working hands and a half bottle of lotion on your bedside table. Get yourself off.”

Fucking frat boys.

//

Rhodey insists on flying with him.

There’s nine days till Christmas. Rhodey’s flight back to Philly is on the 22nd. He’s been talking about how excited he is to finally see his niece ever since Jeanette gave birth in September. He didn’t get to go back on Thanksgiving, on account of the fact that Tony had so much to drink that they ended up in the hospital so he could get his stomach pumped.

If Tony was a better friend, if Tony was a better person, he would insist that Rhodey stay back at MIT, actually catch his flight to Philly like he planned to. 

If Tony had the ability to think about anybody other than himself, he wouldn’t let Rhodey come with him, wouldn’t let Rhodey mess up his own life just because Tony’s was so fucked up.

But Tony isn’t a better person, and Tony doesn’t have the ability to think of anything other than the fact that his parents are dead.

The police were still waiting for them when he went back with Rhodey to their apartment. They hovered behind Rhodey like bodyguards as Rhodey sat him down on the couch, explained to him in soft turns that Howard had drank too much; that they’d found the car wrapped around a telephone pole.

There’s photos. Photos of the road his parents were on, photos of the accident, photos of the skid marks, photos of his parent’s dead bodies. Photos of his Ma’s lifeless corpse.

They still need Tony to go identify the bodies though, even though just a passing glance at the photos will tell you who was in that car. 

It’s apparently standard protocol, to have a family member come identify the bodies. Howard had no siblings, and his Ma hasn’t talked to her family in Italy since before she married Howard. Tony’s all they have left.

Tony’s all that’s left.

//

“Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark, I’m sorry, but I’m going to need you to confirm their identities.”

“Mr. Stark, are these your parents?”

“Yes.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss Sir. I’ll give you some time alone with them.”

//

Tony takes the first two steps up to the Mansion, before he stops, unable to move further. Rhodey is right behind him, but Tony still jolts when he feels Rhodey’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s just me Tones,” Rhodey says in a soothing tone. He’s been using that tone a lot with Tony over the past couple of days, like Tony’s a stray animal he’s worried he’ll spook. It might have something to do with the fact that Tony’s barely had five words since he found out, “Why’d you stop?”

Tony doesn’t know why he stopped. There’s only three more steps till the door. He doesn’t know why he’s stopped. 

He turns to Rhodey, unable to open his mouth, looking at Rhodey as if Rhodey can read his mind through his eyes.

“Okay,” Rhodey says after a couple of seconds, as if Tony’s responded even though he knows he hasn’t, “Let’s go find the closest hotel. Mr. Stane said we could call him for anything right? I think this qualifies.”

Rhodey shifts his hand so it’s resting on Tony’s back instead of his shoulders, and turns them both around so they’re walking down the stairs. The cab that drove them from the airport is still waiting, probably because it hasn’t even been a full minute since he dropped them off; and Tony listens as Rhodey talks to the driver about taking them to the nearest hotel.

His hand doesn’t leave Tony’s back, not when they make their way back into the cab, not for the thirty minute car ride until they end up at the Ritz, not when they exit the cab and he’s paying the driver a little extra for his troubles.

“I have a suite,” Tony says, and Rhodey whirls around to face him; eyes wide. His tongue feels heavy, like it’s been coated with lead, but Tony pushes through to elaborate, “You don’t need to call Uncle Obie. I have a suite at the Ritz. They’ll recognise me when we go in.”

“Okay Tones,” Rhodey says, like there’s nothing weird about the fact that these are the first words Tony’s said to him all day, “We’ll check into your suite.”

//

There’s only one bed in the suite. This is by design, because Tony uses this suite for people he doesn’t trust to bring back to the Mansion, or when he’s not feeling like waiting. He has a suite in the Ritz because it’s in the middle of the city, and the staff are extremely discrete - and because they have good room service options.

There’s only one bed in the suite because Tony brings people back to this suite to fuck them.

He hasn’t brought Rhodey back to this suite to fuck him. The singular bed in the suite might cause some problems.

Rhodey comes in after Tony, because he’s elected to bring in their suitcases, even though the bellboy at the concierge tried to explain to Rhodey that it was hotel policy to have the luggage delivered to the guests’ suites; which means he doesn’t automatically see the single bed in the suite.

Tony should say something about the single bed, offer to call and ask for an extra pull-out, but Rhodey just turns to the single bed, and says, “Looks like it’s big enough for the two of us. What’s good to eat over here?”

Tony’s known for a long time that he’s in love with Rhodey. In different circumstances - if he thought Rhodey wasn’t straight, if he thought Rhodey felt the same way, if they weren’t in New York to attend his parent’s funeral; Tony would’ve brought Rhodey back to this suie to fuck him.

Or get fucked. He’s not picky.

Tony’s known for a long time that he’s in love with Rhodey. It was one of the absolute facts in his world: the sky was blue, he was a Stark, he was in love with Rhodey.

He’s never had the urge to say it before, to voice it, to make Rhodey understand just how much he means to Tony.

Rhodey’s opening up their suitcases, pulling out Tony’s suit and hanging it so that it doesn’t get crumpled before the funeral - and Tony has never wanted Rhodey to know just how much he means to Tony more.

//

They sleep on opposite sides of the bed. It’s a King Sized bed, big enough to fit three, even four people comfortably, so there’s more than enough space for both of them to sleep.

Rhodey takes the left side of the bed, and Tony takes the right, and it’s reminiscent of their dorm days; when Rhodey had the bed on the left side of the room and Tony had the bed on the right. 

Rhodey falls asleep almost immediately, his soft snores filling up the room, but Tony takes longer. He curls on his side, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping the blanket as tight around himself as possible.

The room is heat-controlled, but Tony can still feel himself shivering.

He doesn’t know when he falls asleep, but he does know that when he wakes up; he’s no longer on the right side of the bed. At some point during the night, he migrated towards the middle, and from the looks of it, so had Rhodey.

His legs are tangled up around Rhodey’s, the sheets caught between the two of them, and he’s curled under Rhodey’s arms - like he was seeking warmth.

He blinks once, twice, and then looks up to see Rhodey looking down at him, a soft smile on his lips.

“It’s my Ma’s funeral today,” Tony says in a scratchy voice, still rough with sleep, and Rhodey leans down ever so slightly to drop a kiss on his forehead, “Yeah it is baby.”

He moves closer to Rhodey, almost on instinct, and Rhodey’s arm moves from where it’s bracing his head to wrap around him, fingers lightly stroking his sides.

“Do I have to go?” Tony asks after a couple of minutes, softly “I like it here. With you. It doesn’t hurt right now.”

“No, you don’t,” Rhodey replies, equally soft, and the arm he has around Tony tightens, “But I think you’ll regret it if you don’t Tones. I’ll be with you every step of the way okay? But if you don’t want to go, we don’t have to go. We can stay right here, just me and you, and I won’t ever let you go.”

“Promise?” 

He doesn’t know what he’s asking for. Promise that they don’t have to go? Promise that Rhodey will be with him every step of the way? Promise that Rhodey won’t let him go?

He doesn’t know what he’s asking for, but it apparently doesn’t matter, because he feels Rhodey drop another kiss on his forehead, harder this time, like he wants to make sure Tony feels it, “I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll go. But, not right now. I want this, us to last a couple minutes longer. Can we stay like this, for a couple more minutes?”

“We can stay like this as long as you like Tones.”

Fin

[bangchanshehe]

She's Not You (Final) pt. 3

Summary: Taemin was run down, and tired. He had been promoting for his comeback and wasn’t able to spend much time with you at all. But now that he can finally see you he has to pretend that you aren’t dating. But with two different people watching the two of you with interest your faith in each other will be tested.

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 3.2k

Taemin had spent at least a good hour in the studio while you waited in the lounge room for him to finally appear so the two of you could go home. And while you waited you thought long and hard about what had happened today and the way that it made you feel…. Let alone what Taemin was feeling too.

“don’t you have even a small desire to go public?” Tae’s question rang through your ears and you couldn’t help but feel bad because you honestly had never even considered it. You had seen one too many relationships fall apart because of going public and it had cost several people their careers. And that was something that you never wanted to subject Taemin to.

It didn’t matter how much you wanted to so on a simple date with him or post a happy photo of the two of you just enjoying a lazy day or doing something fun. You would never put him in a position in which he would have to choose you or his career.

Plus, there was so much more to consider as well. Crazy sasaeng fans would more than likely stalk you, send you hate mail and death threats, and you would probably lose your job. Your ability to get around and find another job would likely be slim to none since makeup companies wouldn’t want to hire someone who was unprofessional and dated one of her clients. You sighed and looked up at a poster on the wall not even registering that you were staring straight at a poster of Taemin.

“are you ready to go?” Taemin asked as he walked in the room

He watched you as you continued to stare off into space, not moving a single muscle. He followed your gaze and slightly smirked as he realized that you were looking at a poster of him. He lightly chuckled to himself and he stared at you softly for a moment before he spoke up once more

“what are you looking at?” he asked a little louder this time so he could pull you out of your trance.

This time it had worked and you turned to look at him standing next to you

“all done? Are you ready to go?” you asked

Taemin smiled at you and nodded his head. You quickly stood up and gathered your things so you could get out of the building and home as soon as possible and Taemin followed behind you like a lost puppy.

As soon as the two of you had gotten to Taemin’s home you practiced your usual routine to not arouse suspicion. Taemin got out and held two of your bags while you made sure that your employee ID was visible and you grabbed a few boxes to take up. So far no one had questioned why you were there or whether or not you were someone special to Taemin, despite the fact that you came here so often.

The two of you let out a long sigh of relief as you finally shut and locked the front door and changed into your slippers. Taemin wasted no time in taking the two boxes from you and setting them down by the front door. You softly thanked him and he gave you a small smile before he gave you a strong single kiss.

“I’m gonna go shower” he said while he practically ripped his shirt over his head and walked to his bathroom.

You stared and watched him as he walked away with his shirt off. He seemed like he was a little bit skinnier from so much work the past few weeks. You knew for a fact that he didn’t really enjoy cooking and he didn’t have a routine of packing up anything to take with him so that he didn’t go hungry during the day.

You frowned and swallowed down your worries as you walked to the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge and pantry looking for something to cook for the two of you. But all you could find was ramen, soju, and seaweed snacks.

You shut his pantry with a long sigh and looked back into the hallway wondering how long it had been since Taemin had a proper meal. You had decided that tonight you were going to take care of him and make sure that he didn’t have to do anything for the rest of the night. You were exhausted and wanted to be a couch potato, but you knew that what you were feeling was only a fraction of Taemin’s exhaustion.

You walked down the hallway and entered Taemin’s bathroom listening to the soft sounds of the shower water falling over his body. Usually, Taemin would sing or at least hum in the shower so you knew that he had to be at an all-time low right now.

“hey baby I’m going to make dinner for us tonight. Do you want anything in particular?” you asked him

“don’t worry about dinner. Just come join me in the shower.” He answered softly.

“no you need to eat something. when was the last time that you ate?” you asked him accusingly

There was nothing but silence after you had asked and you knew that you had hit the nail on the head earlier when you notice the lack of … well everything in his kitchen. You put your hand on your hip and was about to say something when taemin spoke before you.

“I really just want to hold you right now. will you please join me y/n” he asked again with a tired tone

Your heart sank as you heard him talking and you knew that he absolutely needed to eat right now, but what he wanted the most was to just be with you. You inwardly smiled and let out a soft sigh before you began to remove your clothes.

As you stepped into the walk in shower taemin was rinsing shampoo out of his hair and hadn’t noticed that you had joined him. You slowly stepped closer to him and held him in a tight hug, caressing his back and resting your head on his chest.

Taemin let out a small chuckle and you smiled when you felt the vibration radiating off of him. As soon as he was done rinsing out his hair he cupped your head and raised it so he could give you a kiss.

“thank you” he said staring down into your eyes, giving you a warm smile. “thank you for all that you do for me. I know that it isn’t always easy and that our relationship isn’t the ideal one that I would like to give to you. But I wouldn’t trade you for anything else in the world” he confessed to you

You slightly pulled away from him and looked at his eyebags that had become exponentially darker in the last two weeks. You knew that it was something that you couldn’t control and his schedule was completely out of your power but if you could take all of his pain and sorrows away you would.

“Taemin, I love you with every single fiber in my body and I would never trade this relationship for a regular mundane one. I know that it’s hard for you to not be able to enjoy regular life with me and you feel that you have taken that away from be by us being in a relationship but its all worth it for you. I only wish that I could take better care of you.”

You reached up to his face and brushed the bags under his eyes and the sharpness of his jawline. He grabbed hold of your hand and placed loving kisses on your palm before he held it down by his side.

“let me wash your hair” he said softly with a smile

You smiled back at him and the two of you traded places under the shower head so that your hair could get damp. The moment that you heard Taemin lathering up his hands with the shampoo you turned around and allowed him to massage the product into your scalp. You closed your eyes as you felt Taemin’s hands in your hair and the warm water cascading onto your chest.

“I was serious about what I mentioned earlier in the car… I want us to seriously consider coming out” he stated plain as day as if he were discussing contemplating getting Chinese for dinner.

You allowed for his words to settle in your brain for a few minutes as you washed the shampoo out of your hair yourself. Before you replied to him you watched as his facial expressions changed from shy to curious to frustrated by your lack of a response. You could tell that he was really serious about coming out to everyone and that he wasn’t just feeling a spontaneous rush of excitement.

“but what about the sasaeng fans? And what about the company?” you asked him in a hushed tone

Taemin stopped and looked at your face as if he was shocked. You looked him up and down as if he was crazy for looking at you the way that he was right now. has he officially lost his mind? Has the lack of food completely gotten to his head now?

“let me rephrase what I just said…. I want for us to come out to close friends and acquaintances.” He said with a small smile, laughing inwardly at your small misunderstanding.

“oh” was all that you could say since you had never seriously considered that an option. You always figured that it would be to risky to even tell a few people in case of a slip up or a leak to press for a few dollars. “who would you want to tell?” you asked him, now curious about his proposition.

He took a moment of silence to consider who he would trust to tell “well my mom, and my members, my manager and my closest friends.”

“you think that your manager would be okay with you being in a relationship with me?” you asked him slightly concerned “he wouldn’t try to force us to split up or anything right?”

Taemin gave a smirk “I’m pretty sure that he knows what’s up anyways. He constantly gives me little smirks whenever you come around. And he’s asked me about you a few times.” He admitted

“what!” you blurted out “did you tell him!?”

Taemin snorted once “no, of course not. I wouldn’t come out about us unless we had both agreed on it.” He placed his hands on either side of your shoulders and gave them small, lazy rubs “but I’m pretty sure that despite me saying that nothing’s going on he knows that we are more than just friends.”

You took a moment to think about it. The most stressful concern that you had was coming out to the company, and if his manager already knew that something was going on, and didn’t put any pressure on Taemin or punish him then you really had nothing to be concerned with. You looked up at him while biting your lip in concentration. The worrisome and tiredness from his face seemed to be replaced with glimmers of excitement and hope.

“and by closest friends…. You mean Kai?” you asked him trying your best to conceal your smile.

“of course.” He said

“and what exactly are you going to tell him?” you asked him now showing hints of your smile “yah Kai-yah! You bastard never flirt with my girlfriend again.” You mimicked taemin’s voice

Taemin gave you his perfect smile that crinkled his nose and met his eyes and it was the first time that you had seen it in a long time. Your heart soared seeing him in such high spirits and you would be dammed if you would take that away from him right now. and truth be told the longer that you considered coming out to the ones closest to you, the more that you enjoyed the idea of it.

“how did you know?” taemin said sarcastically with laughter in his voice and you returned his contagious smile.

Without thinking twice or saying anything you turned around and turned off the shower. You opened the glass door and reached for your towel while taemin stood there confused.

“where are you going? I wasn’t done…” he said with a confused and shocked voice

You turned around and smiled at your boyfriend as you wiped the water beads off of your arms and legs. He looked cute as he stood there dumbfounded that you would just leave the shower and the conversation just like that.

“im gonna go charge my phone so I can tell my mom the good news” you said with a small smile

Taemin’s face only transformed from shocked to absolutely excited as he stood there completely still as if you had paralyzed him. He didn’t move a single muscle as you continued to wipe yourself down, and without hesitation you left him behind in the shower as you moved into Taemin’s bedroom to dig around for some of your overnight clothes. And it wasn’t until you had pulled a large tshirt and underwear on that he had finally joined you in the bedroom.

“are you serious?” he asked still completely in disbelief that you had agreed to telling friends and family. He stood in front of you with wide eyes and he scanned your face for any trace of a lie.

You had only nodded your head as you continued to rough dry your hair with a towel. And within seconds taemin had crushed you in his arms in a bone breaking embrace as he laughed with udder joy. You wrapped your limbs around him as he spun the two of you around and you smiled into his shoulder.

The two of you laughed like little kids for a few moments and share a few sweet small kisses before he placed you gently back down on your feet.

“where is your phone?” he asked you suddenly

“in my purse?” you answered, confused as to why he would want your phone

You watched as he quickly walked into the entry way of his house in search of your phone and you stood in the hallway as you waited for him to explain himself a little further. But instead of coming back to you with your phone you saw his face light up with excitement as he went through your phone and then placed it next to his ear.

“who are you calling?” you asked him, slightly nervous

He only glanced up at you for a moment, giving you a small smile before he turned his attention back to the phone. You waited for him to say something that would give away who he was in such a rush to call from your phone, but the seconds felt like minutes while the two of you waited for whoever he was calling to answer.

“hey can you talk for a moment?” he asked the other person on the phone with a calm tone and put the phone on speaker so that the two of you could hear the conversation that was about to ensue.

“hello? y/n?” the voice called out and you immediately rolled your eyes and gave taemin a smile. Of course the first person he would tell would be kai. “who is this?” kai asked confused

“yah! You don’t even recognize your own friends voice?” taemin said accusingly

“hey hyung! Why do you have y/n’s phone?” kai asked confused

Taemin gave you a small wink before he finally started what he wanted to do all day long at the greenroom while you talked with him and kai incessantly flirted with you. “I have something that I need to tell you… y/n and I are in a relationship”

Taemin waited for kai to say something back in response but after a while when there was no reply taemin looked down at the phone to make sure that the call was still connected.

“yah! Say something you bastard!” taemin yelled jokingly back at him

“uhhh” kai started with an awkward chuckle “congrats hyung… but when did you start dating?” he asked him as if he was scared of the answer, because surely he was busted for trying to flirt all day.

“for a few years now…” taemin answered as if it was no big deal “so with that being said, if you ever try to flirt with y/n I will kick your ass! And don’t think that I didn’t see you staring at her ass today!”

Kai chuckled on the phone, giving up his charade because he knew that he had been caught “okay, I promise that from now on I will be on my best behavior” he promised

And without even saying goodbye taemin hung up the phone and threw his hands up in the air.

“what are you doing?” you asked him, amused with his little celebration

Taemin walked up to you with a megawatt smile and wrapped you in his arms.

“im so happy to finally be able to tell people that you and I are together.” He admitted “it feels so good to be able to tell the world that you are mine”

“woah there Casanova… not the whole world” you corrected him and he chuckled

“maybe not now…. but one day when we get married and have kids I definitely want to tell the world about you” he responded softly

You went silent for a moment as you let that process in your brain. Today was just a small step that the two of you were taking towards making things more and more public. And although it scared you to death you knew that you wanted it for the two of it and your relationship was worth the trials and tribulations.

“are you sure that you wont change your mind and end up with someone glamorous like sunmi?” you asked him jokingly

He pulled away from you and was about to scold you for even suggesting such a thing until he saw your silent laughter. “don’t even mention that name to me” he said in a sour tone

“why? Did you hate working with her that much?” you asked him

He glared at you for a moment “I hated it so much. It wasn’t like working with you at all…. Every little thing that she did made me so irrationally angry and all I could do was just put up with it until everything was over.” He held you close once more “she’s not you.. she could never be you…. You hear me?” he asked you while peppering your face with kisses.

“I love you lee taemin” you said softly giving him a small loving smile

“and I love you so deeply too”

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Steve//can’t make it all alone

hey! oof, third part already. and happy 2nd christmas! i hope all of you had a wonderful day yesterday!!! and i hope you’re all having another lovely day today! stay safe everyone!  

“So, do you want me to drop you off at home?” Officer Powell asks. 

Christmas is officially over, but for Steve it was over as soon as you walked away. He watches the sun rise over another day...another day that you’re still out there somewhere. 

Another day wasted. 

While Steve was sat in a dingy room, with cream walls and ageing furniture, being asked the same three questions over and over again, he hoped his friends were out looking for you. 

But when nobody interrupted the little chat he was having to let him know you’d been found, he slowly lost hope, until there was just a hole where his heart used to be.

You’re somewhere out there by yourself, instead of lying beside him in bed, already reminiscing about the previous day and ignoring calls from your parents to get up. 

“Can you just take me to The Wheelers?” He mumbles, staring down at his hands. His finger nails have been chewed down to as short as they can. It’s a habit Steve picked up from you. 

You’ve always been a nail biter when nervous, and Steve tried everything to get you to stop, he even learnt how to paint nails so he could do yours in the hopes it would stop you from chewing. It was also just an excuse to spend more time with you, even if it meant he had to listen to Robin complaining about being used for practice. 

But instead of stopping you from ruining your nails, he ended up developing the same coping mechanism as you did. Now he’s surprised there’s any finger left at all. 

“The Wheelers?” Powell asks surprised and glances at Steve through the mirror. He doesn’t bother to look back at him, but he can feel his eyes on him and he knows for a fact as soon as he gets back to the station he’s going to tell everyone that’ll listen. 

“Yeah.” He nods and leans his head against the cold glass, his eyes scan the houses as they pass, hoping he’ll catch a glimpse of you. A clue as to where you’ve gone, where you’re hiding.

You’ll be standing outside The Wheelers, in your bright red jumper with your arms crossed and an annoyed expression on your face, but you’ll be safe and alive and that’s all he wants. He doesn’t care how upset you are with him, he just wants you back. 

Instead he just see’s people twitching their curtains and spending far too long putting the bins out, in order to see what’s happening. News of a missing girl travels fast around town, especially because of its history, and by now, everyone will know about you and you’re broken necklace. 

He knew coming back to Hawkins would end in disaster at some point. He always thought of it as taunting it, like he was saying ‘we’re back but you can’t get to us’, well now it has, whatever it is, and he hates himself for letting it happen to you. 

He doesn’t know what’s scarier though, if it’s something thats crawled out of the Upside Down, or if it isn’t. There’s every possibility that an actual person could have taken you too, and neither of those options fill him with hope.

The first person he see’s when they pull into the drive is Joyce, stood outside with a cigarette in her hand while she paces. She lifts her head up at at the sound of car and quickly drops it.

He’s only seen Joyce once since he’s been back, and that was before everything went to shit. He remembers Dustin telling him over the phone, that Will and El were coming back home to spend Christmas with everyone. And that because of Nancy and Jonathan, The Wheelers had told Joyce, Will and El they could stay with them over Christmas. 

The months leading up to Christmas, everyone was so excited, you included.  The whole gang was going to be back together, even if it was just for a week. And he remembers how happy you looked when he told you, you didn’t stop talking about how perfect the week was going to be. 

You couldn’t wait to tell them the good news going on in yours and Steve’s lives, but now within a night it’s all been snatched away. Instead of celebrating, Steve feels like he’s mourning, despite you not being dead.

“Here you go.” Powell says and Steve forces a small smile while opening the door. “Don’t go too far.” He warns and Steve looks away, slipping the car.

Joyce pulls him into a tight hug and he feels himself breathe a little. She smells like cigarette smoke and lavender and it fills him with the tiniest bit of comfort, but the way she’s hugging him, like she’s holding something back, rips it away almost as quickly as he feels it. 

“Are you okay sweetheart?” She asks and looks him over. “Of course you’re not. Come on, we need to tell you something.” She says and guides him into the house and down into the basement.

He passes Karen and Ted, both of whom are busy doing who knows what. Karen is sat at the kitchen island, sorting through a stack of papers, her hair is messy and Steve thinks its the first time he’s seen her in her pyjamas. Ted stands on the other side of the room, talking quietly into the phone. He looks just as stressed as his wife, but they both stop what they’re doing when they hear footsteps and force a smile at Steve. 

“I’ll bring you down some food sweetie.” Karen is the first to break the tension and he gives her a grateful, yet crooked smile. 

“Thank you.” He mumbles and looks back at the floor. Karen and Joyce share a look before Joyce continues to guide him down the stairs. 

The last time he came down the stairs, his head was too full  to actually take anything in. Now though, it feels too busy and empty all at the same time, and so he takes a minute to actually look around. 

The basement hasn’t changed since Mike moved out. Old toys are still strewn about, Dungeons and Dragons sit open in the corner, now with about twelve other things piled on top of it, but it’s still there. 

It feels like he’s walking into a piece of history, frozen in time. The sleeping bags and blankets have been rolled up and thrown in the other corner of the room, and any traces of alcohol from Christmas Eve have disappeared.

The whole party is crammed into the space. Chairs have been stollen from upstairs so everyone has a place to sit, but as soon as they hear floorboards creaking they’re all standing up. 

Nobody knows what or how they’re going to say it.

They thought they were done fighting monsters and losing loved ones. But it seems no matter how far they run, it always follows. Maybe its their own fault for coming back. They thought Starcourt was the final battle, but this seems like some sort of hidden ending and they’re hating every single second of it.

“Steve.” Robin starts gently and everyone, including herself hates it. Robin never speaks to Steve like that, she never even calls him Steve. It’s always dingus or some variant of it.

But the tone in her voice and the look on her face makes everyone realize just how bad this is.

“Sit down.” She says and tries guide him to the chair closest.

“I’m fine.” He shrugs her hands off him. “Have you found her?” He asks, his voice rising with each word and they look at each other.

“No, we haven’t.” Mike continues and takes step towards him. “We went out looking, and well...”

“We found goo on a tree near where her necklace was found.” Dustin sighs.

“Goo?” Steve asks, staring straight at him.  

“A portal.” Jonathan says and even he’s unsure of how to say it nicely.

“To the Upside Down.” Eleven pipes up. It’s the first time she’s spoken to anyone since Steve, Robin and Annie turned up this morning. “She’s there, I can feel it.”

Everyone looks at her, their worst fears being confirmed and Steve feels the air being ripped out of his lungs. 

“Are you sure?” He asks, the question surprising himself and El nods slowly. 

For four years she’s worked on getting her powers back, but she’s never longed for them more than she does right now. You may not have been in her life for very long, but you certainly made an impression on her, and you’re always there when she needs you. 

She can’t see you, but she knows you’re there. She can feel it and she’s never been more certain about anything. But she can also feel something else, she can’t quite place it, but something is wrong. Something isn’t quite right about you disappearing. 

“Yes.” She says, louder than before and he sits down and runs a hand through his hair. “Okay.” He nods slowly and looks around. “Lets go.” He stands and starts towards the stairs. 

Everyone moves at the same time, all of them not wanting him to do something stupid. 

“Woah!” Dustin grabs his arm and pulls him back. Robin blocks the stairs and he gives her a look she’s never seen before. His eyes narrow and darken and his jaw clenches as he stares at her. 

“Move out my way Robin.” He mutters. 

“No.” She replies and crosses her arms. Annie stands beside her, also crossing her arms and they give him the ‘steve’ look making him huff in annoyance. 

“Move.” He says once again forcing it through gritted teeth before trying to push past her, but she stands her ground, and suddenly he feels himself being pulled away from her. 

Dustin and Mike hold his arms tightly and he quickly pushes them away. He knows they’re trying to help, but he knows where you are and it’s like they’re trying to keep him from saving you. 

He also hates the way they’re looking at him, at least with Robin, it’s a look he’s used to seeing. But everybody else’s is new. It’s all sympathy and pity and he doesn’t like it. It makes him feel like they know something he doesn’t, like you’re gone forever and he’s doesn’t know yet. 

“Steve.” Joyce says sternly. She holds his shoulders, forcing him to look at her. “If you go in there with nothing, you’re not going to come out again, and then what?” 

He knows she’s right, but it does little to comfort him. 

“So what? We just sit around and wait for he to get out herself or to just die.” He snaps back but it doesn’t seem to bother her. 

“No.” She shakes her head. “We figure out what it wants. We go in prepared and we get her out.” 

“But-She’s in there alone.” He cries and she wraps her arms around him, pulling him into another tight hug. 

The group exchange glances, none of them know what to do. How do you comfort a friend who’s girlfriend of 4 years has been dragged into an alternate dimension that creatures pulled from hell call home. 

It’s also the first time they’ve seen Steve cry, some of them ever, and its a weird sight. They all have a silent conversation, trying to get somebody to say something useful, but its no use, Steve’s sobs echo off the walls while everyone stands around awkwardly. 

The top step creaks but Steve doesn’t seem to notice, Nancy shakes her head at her mom standing by the door with a plate full of food, and she nods before quietly leaving again. 

“I’ve been in there, and it’s not that bad.” Will pipes up and everyone stares at him, eyebrows raised. “Okay, maybe it is that bad.” He sighs, and sits down. “But, think about it, I was only a kid when I was there and I’m fine.” 

“Debatable.” Dustin mumbles and everyone glares at him. 

“Shut up.” Max slaps the back of his head. 

“Would you like me to tell your mom what really happened to Mews.” Will retorts, and Dustin pauses rubbing his head to stare at him. 

“You wouldn’t.” He narrows his eyes at his friend. 

“I would.”

“Guys.” Lucas interrupts and stares at each of them. “Not the time.” 

“Yeah, get to the point.” Mike adds annoyed. 

“My point is.” Will continues, making sure to glare at Dustin before looking at Steve. “I came out of there alive, and I was just a kid. Y/n, is a grown woman, who’s dealt with much worse. She’ll be fine.” 

“She’s probably made whatever took her, her bitch by now.” Lucas says and forces a laugh. “You saw how she took down that demodog that was trying to make Steve it’s lunch.” He adds, and for the first time in three days Steve feels himself smile. 

It’s a nice break in the tension, the entire group sharing a smile and laugh as they think of you. The story is famous in your group, even Joyce knows it. 

You saved Steve’s life without knowing what was happening. And how when you’d finished beating the crap out of it, you called it a bitch and then apologized.

“Yeah, she’ll going around smashing the place up and then saying sorry afterwards.” Robin says, placing a hand on his shoulder and he feels himself relax a little. 

The little moment of joy is soon gone though. Every single one of them have the same thought. 

What if that’s a story no longer told with happiness. What if it’s told out of grief, as they stand around a casket all dressed in black, clinging on to the memories of a life that should have been way longer.  

A very, very short life. 

Steve clears his throat and moves away from Joyce. 

“Okay, what do we know?” He asks, looking at each of them individually. He doesn’t want to think about what’s happened to you, what could be happening to you an-

So does the only thing he knows how to. He gets ready to fight.

“We know that something must have happened in order for it to wake back up again.” Joyce replies and gives him a reassuring smile. 

“Why wake back up? Why not just come back?” Max asks. 

“Because how can it come back after Starcourt.” Will replies. “We blew the whole mall up. Whatever took Y/n must have been hiding and healing. I’ve been there, I know what it’s like.” 

“Okay. So something disturbed it?” Mike asks. “What though?” 

“Us?” Nancy asks. “No.”She shakes her head, answering her own question. “We’ve been here countless of times, so what’s so different this time?” 

“Y/-” Steve starts but Jonathan interrupts him, and he feels himself shrink. Maybe its a good thing he didn’t tell them, it just doesn’t feel right without you.  

“Nothing has happened here in years.” He says. “Or maybe it has, and we just haven’t noticed.” 

“My mom says the only difference is the weather.” Mike shrugs. 

“Yeah, my mom says the same thing.” Dustin agrees and Steve sends him a confused look. 

“What do you mean the weather?” Annie asks. 

She’s still piecing together the story that Robin and the rest of the gang told her while Steve was at the police station. The words Upside Down and mind-flayer keep coming up, and don’t get her started on El and her lost powers. That’s something she’s locked in a box for future her to deal with. 

“Really? Out of everything I’ve told you, you’re confused about the weather?” Robin teases, and she rolls her eyes at her. 

“Shut up.” She nudges her ribs gently. “Has anyone else’s parents noticed a change in the weather?” She asks and slowly, everyone nods their head. 

“It does seem a bit windier.” Joyce says. “I’ve lived here my whole life, I know what winter is like here, but this time...its different.” 

“Could that not be because you moved though?” Dustin asks. 

“No. I know this town like the back of my hand. Something’s off.” 

“Listen.” Steve snaps. They’re getting absolutely no where with this conversation and he knows it. “I don’t care about the wind or the rain or the snow. I don’t care what’s taken her and why. I just want to get her back.” The effects of not sleeping for 48 hours seem to be catching up with him. Tiredness hits him like a truck and he feels it settle in his bones. 

“Steve.” Robin starts.

“What?” He mumbles annoyed. 

“Why don’t you go to sleep.” She suggests gently but he just glares at her. “Or have something to eat.” 

“No.” He shakes his head. “The quicker we come up with a plan, the quicker we can get her back.” 

“True.” Robin starts. “But we don’t know how long it’s going to take. And you’re going to be no help if you’re falling asleep and starving.” She finishes and he hates that she’s right. But the need to save you far outweighs the need to eat or sleep. He’d go for years without if it meant getting you back. 

‘its all your fault’ The little voice says again and with each day it grows louder, Steve sometimes feels like its the only thing he can hear. 

It is his fault. It’s all his fault, and whether you do come back or not, he’s going to carry this guilt around with him for the rest of his life. 

“Please Steve.” She says, she’s clearly worried, not only about the friend that’s missing, but the one sat right in front of her. 

“Have some rest and while you’re asleep we’ll keep planning.” Annie finishes and places a hand on Robin’s arm. 

“We’ll even go out looking again.” Mike says.

“We’re not going to give up just because you’ve fallen asleep.” Dustin smiles. “We promise. We love Y/n, just as much as you do.” He thinks about it for a few minutes, before finally agreeing. 

“I’ll eat, but I’m not sleeping.” He says and everyone lets out a collective sigh of relief. 

“Okay.” Joyce nods, her motherly instincts kicking in again. “Why don’t you go sit over on that sofa, and I’ll get you some food.” She smiles kindly and he nods, before pushing himself up and towards the sofa. 

Everyone moves around him. Joyce goes upstairs, and is quickly followed by Mike and Jonathan. 

Dustin, Lucas, Max and Will huddle in a circle, dragging their chairs with them and Steve listens to their quiet mumbles about the upside down and the mind flayer. 

Nancy, Robin and Annie stay by the staircase, he know’s they’re hanging around just in case he tries to make a run for it, and their not to subtle glances at him don’t make it any less obvious. 

And El sits alone in the corner closest to Steve. She stares at a picture of you smiling along with the rest of the gang and Steve’s heart aches at the sight. Everyone is grinning at who he assumes is Joyce, and Steve stands beside you, his arm slung over your shoulder, his smile as bright as yours. 

Steve watches her close her eyes as she desperately tries to find where you are. But no matter how hard she tries, she can’t seem to focus. It’s been four years since she lost her powers, they’re not going to miraculously come back. 

He can feel the fatigue settling even deeper into his bones making him feel heavier than he already does. But every time he closes his eyes, all he can picture is you, scared and alone and calling out for him. 

Upstairs, he can hear Joyce and Karen talking quietly as they walk around the kitchen and every so often he hears Jonathan and Mike join in. 

Steve just sits. 

He sits and stares straight ahead, imagining the worst. 

You could be dead, or dying, or even worse you could not be you anymore. You could have turned into whatever Billy was. That thought alone is enough for him to loose his breath and he chokes on a sob, his head falls into his hands as he quietly cries. 

He’s never going to see you again. 

Tears stream down his face and stain his jeans, but he doesn’t bother to wipe them away, what’s the point. He’s been wearing the same clothes since Christmas Eve, they already smell like the stale coffee thanks to the police station, so what’s a few tears? And it’s not like he hasn’t had worse on his clothes, blood and puke come to mind. 

“Steve?” Nancy’s voice is quiet as she sits next to him. 

Robin and Annie have moved to sit with the kids to talk about what to do. And Nancy was going to join them, but as soon as she looked at Steve, she decided she could try and be helpful elsewhere. 

You would never forgive her if she let something happen to him while you were gone. After the events of 1984, you and Nancy became rather close, despite what had happened between her and Steve. All of you knew what had happened between them, however painful, was in the past. 

Or at least that’s what she thought. Of course she knows Steve feels nothing for her other than a platonic love, but it must have hurt to be called the name of his ex. Especially when everyone knows how messily that ended. 

Nancy can’t help but share some guilt with Steve. It was her name that caused you to storm off in the first place, and even though she knows she can’t go back in time and un-do everything, she really wishes she could. 

She hands him a warm mug of coffee and he takes it but doesn’t look at her, he just stares at the brown liquid and feels himself sink deeper into his thoughts. He didn’t even notice her leaving to get one, too wrapped up in his own guilt and depressing thoughts. 

“She’ll be okay.” She tries her best to comfort him but he just scoffs at her and takes sip. 

“How do you know that? She’s in there, with god knows what running around.” He seethes. “And what are we doing? We’re sat around drinking coffee and talking about our feelings.” 

“We’re not talking about or feelings Steve.” She sighs and watches Dustin draw on an old map. 

“I know, but I know you’re going to talk about yours.” 

“I’ll let that pass under the circumstances.” She rolls her eyes. “But when Y/n comes back...and she will come back. I will kick your ass.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” He replies and a small smile twitches at the corner of his lips. She feels the weight in her chest lighten a little, but his only gets heavier. 

He shouldn’t be sat here laughing with his ex girlfriend, while his current one is lost out there. 

‘its all your fault. she wouldn’t be in there if it wasn’t for you’ 

“Do you think it’s my fault?” He asks and everyone pauses what they’re doing. 

“No.” Nancy shakes her head and forces a smile. 

“It’s not your fault Steve. You didn’t ask for her to be taken did you?” Robin asks. 

“Well no, bu-” 

“And did you tell her to go in there?” Dustin interrupts. 

“No, but I-” 

“And did you know what would happen to her before having that argument?” Jonathan adds while walking down the stairs. It’s the first time in what feels like a long time he’s said something remotely nice to him, and it does make him feel a little better. 

“No.” 

“Well then it’s not your fault.” He finishes and hands him a plate of food. 

“Thanks.” He mumbles and stares down at the very late Christmas dinner. 

This isn’t how he imagined he’d be eating his Christmas dinner this year, he imagined you beside him. Both of you in matching jumpers and paper crowns, telling each other stupid jokes out of crackers that no one but the two of you find funny. 

“I miss her.” Robin says out of no where and everyone looks at her. Steve watches in shock as her lip wobbles and tears form in her eyes, he’s never seen Robin cry before, and when you come back, he’s so going to tell you that you made The Robin Buckley cry. 

“Me too.” Dustin nods, giving her half a hug. Annie sits on the other side of her and leans her head on her shoulder. 

“Yeah. Me too.” Everyone else agrees, sad smiles taking over their appearances.  

“What am I going to do without her?” Steve sighs and places the plate on the floor. 

“You’re not going to have to do without her.” Jonathan replies. 

“And, I think you’re doing pretty well right now.” Robin adds and he lets out a bitter laugh. “Okay, maybe you’re doing okay then. But that’s still better most.” She finishes, sending him a toothy grin and a small smile flickers on his lips. 

“Thanks.” He rolls his eyes. 

“No problem.” She replies. “Now eat your food.” She adds, giving him a stern look. 

“I will in a minute.” He slumps down in the sofa, his back hits the soft furniture and he lets out a sigh. Everyone goes back to talking quietly amongst themselves, although this time, they’re talking about you and he feels himself smile. It’s both happy and sad, but it’s real, and thats all that matters to him. 

His eyes flutter shut as he hears Will come down the stairs, and the last thing he hears before he falls asleep is Robin...

“Okay, what do we do?” 

[devilatmydoor]

i don’t love you like i did I [c.t.h]

a/n; hello all! i was listening to moral of the story by ashe and i started listening to my emo playlist and i got the idea for this fic! it was truly a labor of love, once i finished i cried because it broke my heart. let me know what you think - if i should write a part 2 or not- in the tags, dm’s or my ask! 

masterlist

calum // female reader

word count; 2.4k+

warning- ANGST & smut

8 months.

8 months of crying yourself to sleep, puffy eyes in the morning, restless nights, and never ending days.

8 months.

Your marriage barely made it a year and 8 months later you barely could get out of bed without immediately thinking of him. His dog running up to you in the morning, the smell of coffee filling up the house and his contagious smile.

Now Your mornings consist of you forcing yourself out of bed when you need to eat, taking medication for the constant migraines from crying hours on end.

You knew it wasn’t going to be easy moving out of the place you've called home for over 2 years, but you didn’t think it would be this hard. Moving everything out of his house was difficult enough but moving in with your friend until you got yourself on your feet wasn't much of a difference.

Your thoughts consumed the last conversation, last 'happy' moment, and the last time he made you feel like you were on top of the world. You hitting rock bottom due to the same man seemed surreal. Your world flipped upside down when it all clicked. Lonely nights without him, pointless arguments & false ideas of happiness. You told yourself you were the happiest you've been in years, your whole life even; but you were miserable.

One blissful night escaping to Vegas with your closest friends to elope to the 'love of your life's led to this. You running into him at a coffee shop and him nervously asking for your number led to all of this.

Romantic dates with wine and flowers, flights to see him when he was on tour. Him returning as if he hadn't been gone for months at a time brought to you both tangled in his sheets, bruises on your hips paired with scratches on his back as your moans echoed on the walls. Every time you connected it was better each time, it didn’t matter if it was passionate or rough. 

8 months since you had heard his deep voice, seen his brown eyes, and felt like the world stopped for both of you. You knew this day would come but you wanted to avoid it as much as possible. Your signature indented on the papers as you sent them to his house, once your shared home. You knew he would put up a fight- you knew he'd refuse to sign the papers. He fought more refusing the divorce than your actual marriage.

It's not that you wanted it to end the way it was heading but there was no option. There wasn’t any time for couples therapy with his schedule, you were tired of feeling alone in a glasshouse. Your expressions painted on your face whenever asked about your husband, soon to be ex-Husband if he'd sign the damn papers.

You took a deep breath as you stood in front of the door. You wanted to go back home but something needed to be done.

Your hand balled into a fist as you knocked on the door three times. You stood away from the door as it slowly swung open.

The man in front of you resembled fragments of your husband; same brown eyes and nose. He shaved his head but he neglected to shave his face, he reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke. You were utterly unprepared for the look in his face as your eyes met his.

You crossed your arms determined to stand your ground, "Hi".

"We haven’t spoken in almost a year, you send me signed divorce papers after moving your belongings when I'm at the studio without a warning and all you have to say is hi?" He barked as his voice sounded gravelly.

He wasn’t completely wrong, you told him the night before you were leaving after spending the night on the couch. You knew it would be easier to pack everything in one go knowing he'd fight you and make you stay.

"Calum don’t do this."

"Oh, I'm not allowed to be upset about you giving up on our marriage?"

"You gave up on us. You stopped fighting for us the minute we got married." You spat

"That's fucking bullshit and you know it."

"No, it isn’t! You figured if we were married you could spend 3 nights out of the week getting drunk with your friends. Our romantic dates turned into Netflix & Chill. You stopped caring about us."

"I never stopped loving you."

His words cut like knives to your heart, causing more damage that you didn’t need after the last 8 months you’ve experienced without him. “You stopped showing me you loved me. Calum, I'm not here to argue."

"Then why are you here?" He asked harshly as he crossed his arms.

"To get the divorce papers. It's been over 6 months."

"You can have them." He grunted as he stepped out of the doorway.

You stepped into the messy house, everything you loved about it was gone. House plants and framed artwork was nonexistent. He led you into the messy house as he walked into the living room. He walked to the coffee table, leaning over to grab the papers, as he stood up straight his eyes met yours. You sighed as he handed them to you, you quickly looked over them to see they looked the same. Not a single signature of his was added, you weren’t even surprised. You set them on top of the record player before he stepped closer to you. You stepped closer to him, smelling his cigarette smoke and cologne that you missed.

“Sign them, please.”

He stepped closer to you making the space between the two of you nonexistent, “No.” He cupped your face with his hands before slowly leaning forward as his lips met yours in a heart-racing passionate kiss. You pressed your body against his as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His tongue slipped into your mouth as you fought for dominance, no surprise he won as his lips were firm on yours. Months without his lips on yours and it felt as if 8 months hadn’t gone by, his lips were soft and plump just as you remembered. His body heat radiated off of him as his body was pressed against yours.

His hands quickly moved to your hips as his fingertips dug into the skin as he picked you up wrapping your legs around his waist, your lips never parting as he pushed you against the familiar walls to deepen the kiss. As you reach his bedroom, your past shared room, he slowly laid you down on the bed as you both fully intertwined, hands roaming over bodies to regain the loss of intimacy.

You slowly pull away softly sucking on his bottom lip before nipping at it playfully as a loud groan escapes his lips. His lips quickly found a home in your neck as he easily remembers where your sweet spot is. His lips softly suck on it while his hands toy with the hem of your leggings as he kisses the soft hickey. Heat rushed over every inch of your body as his gaze was lustful and needy. His lips attached to yours in a feverish kiss, your hands roaming up his t-shirt as goosebumps covered his skin.  

His lips quickly pulled away as he got rid of his shirt, he reconnected your lips as his tongue slid into your mouth. You moan against his lips as the kiss breaks when he tugs on the hem of your shirt slowly lifting it up as your nipples harden while cold air surrounds you. His warm hands roamed your sides as he cupped your breasts, he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

His thumb grazed over the sensitive bud as you gasped in response, your legs tighten around him in excitement. He quickly took off your pants with your panties as you felt him harden as you ran your fingertips over the outline of his cock. He threw his head back as he bit his bottom lip. He leans down to softly lick one nipple as his thumb rubs the other hard bud. His teeth graze your nipple, his warm tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. Your hips grinding against him to receive the friction you craved causing him to groan.

“I need you Cal.” Your old nickname for him rolled off your tongue like you hadn’t used it in 8 months.

He swiftly takes off his sweats and boxers in one motion as his hard cock springs free, hard against his stomach as precum dripped from the tip. Your hand attaches to his cock, obscene noises escape from his mouth as he watches you. You feel his cock hardening in your hand as his hand prys yours off of him as he lines himself up before thrusting into you as you adjust to him comfortably. He grunts deeply as he thrusts deep inside of you as his hips smack into yours, your loud moans fill the room. His arms tight around you as he holds you perfectly, 8 months flew by within seconds as you were skin to skin.

Each thrust he’s deeper inside of you, he hits your g-spot and you feel your stomach tighten. He leaves soft kisses along your neck as he holds your waist. For the first time in months you feel full and happy, not wanting your high to rush through you. You hadn’t realized how much you truly missed him until he was deep inside of you moaning your name. His arm snaked around your waist as his thumb rubs your clit, “Fuck!” He continues as his thrusts match the pace of his fingertip rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves. .

Your stomach tightened as your walls clenched around him and he groaned as he thrusted harder, “C’mon baby, cum for me.”

Hearing him call you baby immediately caused your high bolt through you, white bursts behind your eyes as you felt his cock twitch inside of you as he came inside of you as a deep moan left his lips. His arms tight as he holds you close as his movements slow when he grunts before sliding out of you. You moan from the loss of him too soon, he moves from his bed before putting his boxers on and walking down the hallway.

He returned with a damp washcloth as he washed you off gently while flashing a small smile. He set the washcloth on his nightstand as he laid on the bed next to you, his fingertips running up and down your spine. The lump in your throat became more apparent as he looked in your eyes.

“We should probably talk about what just…” He trailed off.

“Happened? Yeah..”

Feelings of self doubt rushed through you as you felt self conscious laying naked next to him, you wondered where your clothes were discarded. Reality slowly setting in as you realized what happened between the two of you, your pending divorce wasn’t going to change because of what just transpired between the two of you and you knew that. But did he?

His silence made your body tense as your attempt to move away from him as he held onto you tighter, “I don’t regret anything,” He started off as his thumb held your chin but you refused to look in his eyes, “I don’t regret anything between us, I know I could’ve been better. I know I could’ve tried harder to do things with you, I was scared. I know that isn’t an excuse but I can’t promise I’d change. You deserve better than me.”

Your eyes met his as his eyes looked glossy, “You will always hold a special place in my heart. My first everything. I never stopped loving you, I’m not sure I know how to. I don’t think I ever will..”

“I know for a fact I will never stop loving you. You deserve someone who will fight for you like I never did. I’ll always regret not fighting for you.” He pleaded as he sat up.

“I’ll always regret not telling you sooner. I’m sorry.” You said before climbing off of his bed that was once the both of yours as you scanned the room for your discarded clothes. You quickly dressed as he got off of his bed and put his t-shirt back on. You started walking towards his door as his hand rested on the small of your back as he led you out of his room one last time.

He stepped away from you as he grabbed the divorce papers reaching for a pen as he signed where it was needed, “I should’ve treated you better, I know that. I should’ve signed these sooner. I didn’t want to accept it was over.”

“I know, as much as I love you, I have to let you go and walk away from this part of my life. As much as I want to be positive and try one last time, I know it will be the same. You said so yourself you can’t promise you will change your behavior.” You gulped the lump in your throat as he finished signing.

His warm eyes met yours, “I can’t put you through that again, as much as I want to. I have to let you go, even though it hurts like hell.”

You fiddled with the engagement ring and wedding band on your ring finger, the engagement ring had been there for almost 2 years and the wedding band for under a year. You could feel your heart slowly drop to your stomach, air bursting out of your lungs as you took off the rings that you adorned for so long. You set them on the counter as you looked in his eyes. Tears were forming in your eyes as you reached for the papers you anxiously waited to be completed months ago,

“I’m sorry Calum, I love you. I hope you find peace and I wish you nothing but the best.” You managed to blurt out as you walked towards the door before he could even reply. You couldn’t stand to hear what he had to say knowing it would break your heart more than it already had.

You unlocked your car as you put the papers in an envelope as you sat in your seat, holding on to the steering wheel- white knuckles tight as you held on as tears ran down your cheeks. The mixture of warmth and the salt hitting your skin brought you back to 8 months ago when you left.

This time was different, you had no desire to ever return.

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[thecassandradimitrescu]

5: a memory about family

11: a frightening memory

A memory about family...

Sometimes, when it’s late at night and Cassandra is alone with her thoughts, she remembers.... or perhaps she thinks she remembers. It’s a vague, shadowy pantomime of memories and events. Never faces, never details, and never names. 

She knew the roles. “Mother”, “sister”, a “father” even though he was the most vague out of all these characters, for Castle Dimitrescu had no father equivalent, which Cassandra liked. The Duke was perhaps the closest, but even then that was a laughable equivalence. She knew that. He was no father. There were no fathers in this world. Not for her.

“Mother” hummed. She loved hearing Alcina hum or sing, the few times she had managed to catch her mother express herself in such a natural fashion. Because there was a difference between when she sang and when she performed. Alcina performing held a properness to it, something that spoke of Lady Dimitrescu. But when she hummed? When she was alone in her art studio, painting, and lost enough in the moment that the humming just happened? It set Cassandra’s heart at ease. There was a space behind the wall in the art studio. It connected to the attic, and she wasn’t entirely sure who knew about it, but if Alcina would spend long hours painting, Cassandra would linger in that space, just listening and being at ease.

“Sister” was an annoyance. a younger one at that which would always get in trouble and make her laugh. Cassandra would protect her in these pantomimes. She would pick her up, this small little shade, and spin her around, always being the elder sister. Except she was the middle child... laughing and being protective of Daniela while laughing and being an annoyance to Bela. The best and worst of both worlds.

Over the years... decades... longer? The shades became shadows to the family she knew. Connecting and mingling. Rarely did the shades break through, but when they did, Cassandra knew it was wrong. It was mother, not mama. Sisters, not little sister. She hated herself for these slip ups, feeling ashamed for such foolishness. Maybe one day, she would ask mother about these pantomimes she saw, and what they represented. Just not today.

A frightening memory....

No one would even think to consider Cassandra being afraid of anything. She only ever seemed to meet fear with anger and stubbornness. She never ran from a fight. In fact, she actively sought them out sometimes. But this was different. 

She woke up drenched in sweat, her heart hammering. Terror and panic gripped her like nothing she had experienced before. Her room, which was normally a safe and inviting place... at least to herself... seem darker and more foreboding than normal. There were too many shadows that were getting too close to her.

She scrambled out of her bed and into the castle hallway.

Even out here, she didn’t feel much better. Everything was quiet, what with most everyone being asleep at this late an hour. She hesitated at Bela’s door, stomach turning at the idea of crawling into her bed for safety. Daniela’s was absolutely not an option, as she didn’t need to know about this dream. Neither of them did. They wouldn’t understand.

Though her footsteps were careful and measured as she passed her sisters’ rooms, on the odd chance either of them were awake enough to hear, Cassandra’s pace soon became an all out run as she neared her mother’s chambers.

Light peaked through the cracks of her door. Good. It would be a bit easier this way. To Cassandra, there was something terribly embarrassing about crawling into her mother’s bed while she slept. This way, she could maybe explain her intentions first.

“Mother? May I come in?” she asked, knocking after she worked up her courage for this and doing her best to keep her voice from shaking. Alcina’s single word affirmation was enough for her to... not quite rush in, but rather she made a hasty entrance and beeline for her mother’s bedside. Though once she got there, she was unsure of how to proceed. Would she even understand?

To her credit, Alcina set down the book she was reading, giving her daughter her full attention. “What is troubling you, Cassandra?”

She hesitated. She was supposed to be the strong one. The one that wasn’t fazed by anything. She waffled back and forth about telling the truth or coming up with a lie. Lying was easier, but she couldn’t follow through with that. “......I had a bad dream....” she meekly admitted, looking down at the floor. “I don’t... I don’t normally have bad dreams, but this was different. It felt real. A man... he was dragging me some place, taking me away. I screamed and fought and bit him, demanding to be let go. He laughed and hit me until I shut up. Until I threw up. He tied me up and gagged me... I knew I wouldn’t see you ever again, and I was scared... I cried and I couldn’t breathe... I was in a tight space. I tried to claw my way out, but my nails just broke... I broke down and begged him to take me back, promising him money and other things. He didn’t listen... I woke up as he broke the crate open...” She shivered as she recounted the dream, clearly unease and needing comfort. Alcina, however, was stone faced, giving no reaction whatsoever,

“Dreams cannot harm you, Cassandra. Even ones preposterous as what you just described. I would not allow any man-thing to take you from me. Especially not one as uncivilized as this individual was. You are my daughter. No one else’s. You need to remember that.” Cassandra nodded at that, eyes still downcast.

“Yes, mother.” She worried over her next words, but still she spat them out, assuming it was better to get it over with. “May I sleep with you for the rest of the night?”

“Are you not concerned about what your sisters may think?” Cassandra’s shoulders fell at that.

“I just... Please? I’ll leave before they wake up or leave their rooms.” Bela enjoyed lingering in her room, and Dani usually slept late if a servant didn’t wake her. “This won’t become a habit. I just need it tonight.” After a moment of consideration, Alcina pulled back the cover next to her. Cassandra needed no further invitation and was soon curled up next to her mother, quickly falling asleep now that she was safe.

Alcina, however, remained awake a little while longer, pondering over what to do with this news and whether or not Cassandra would now recognize Rednic outside of her dream.

[allandoflimbo]

Bad Guy

Summary: You experience another night out in your new hometown. One that has you reaching for a drink, and maybe ending with a certain someone between your legs.

Warnings: Drinking, cursing, and (mild, well for me) fucking.

A/N: This is a submisstion for @amanda-teaches​ 2k Writer + Reader Challenge. My prompt was “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” This was really fun to write. Thank you for letting me participate in this! And I hope you really enjoy this one. :) It’s pretty light hearted. As most of you know, I will no longer post my writing on Tumblr, i’ll just be sticking to my other platforms now. If you wanna check me out i’ll be on AO3, mostly. This is my final closing. :)

The night was turning crisp, a heavy contrast to what it had been that afternoon. 

It had been humid and overbearingly hot; too scorching for a late August summer. 

It was around six o’clock when the temperature had dropped a sudden ten degrees. Now it was pleasant, and those that had hidden away all day in their air conditioned homes, finally decided to venture out into the cooling air. 

There was an intense misconception about New York City that not many understood, not until they experienced it first hand, at least.

Sure, it was beautiful in its bright lights and air that seemed to ooze hope for everyone’s future. It gave off a vibe that made you admit, that yeah, it kind of was like the movies. 

Except that it wasn’t.

From afar, it was quite the spectacular, but as you narrowed down and took a closer look, you’d see it for what it really was.

The brownstone buildings that housed the speakeasies and restaurants on the ground floor; they were beautiful, surly. 

So were the homes across the streets, with their lights still on.

 The streets, they were nice too. 

People stood all around, greeting new friends and old ones, talking about which place they would go to next or which bar.

You liked the village. It had its pros and cons, but at the end of the day, you were glad you settled for that fifteen hundred dollar studio on the first floor. 

It had a nice view of the deli and the prestigious restaurant across the street, and it was a brownstone.

Yeah, all of that was really nice.

Except when you took a closer look and realized that even the prettiest of things had its faults.

Those streets filled with smiles and laughter also had trash bags piled up every ten feet and on every corner. 

Those restaurants and speakeasies - the brownstones were older so the walls outside the building were washed out, aged. 

The air also had a strange, but yet addicting, smell. 

It was a mixture of all the restaurants around mixed with booze. 

The stairs that led down into the restaurant entrances were old and rusted. 

The ATMs that lounged outside each one - because that’s right, most of them only take fucking cash - six out of ten of them were always out of service and served as nothing but mediocre décor next to the window. 

Heavy graffiti lined their sides.

The doors to the restaurants were older, too. Some of them never even closed properly or were too damn heavy.

And your apartment...it was perfect. 

You’d have to settle into become a minimalist to even fit your bed inside. 

The flooring was also old and scratched and the walls needed a new paint job. But it wasn’t too bad. It could’ve been worst.

But you loved it. 

You loved the feeling of the city around you, and you loved how you had made your new friends so easily after moving in from your old home in little ole’ Ohio. 

You loved going to bed being able to hear the life outside, the laughters and sound of people making new memories and falling in love.

And those restaurants and speakeasies that looked flawed up close, they were anything but inside.

The owners  were always so imaginative. The lighting was always warm, there were always people inside enjoying life and the food- in every single one of them.

Because, that’s right, all their food were good food.

New York City was beautifully flawed. 

It was just what you were looking for.

You think this to yourself for the hundredth time since you moved here as you walk down the street towards a new bar you hadn’t been to yet.

You pass by locals as well as tourists and it’s nice. 

You’re about to cross the street when you see a couple getting out of their little apartment. 

Your heart warms as you see the man take the girl’s hand in his, both of them giggling as they prepare for a night out of making memories.

You feel your phone vibrate as you arrive to the other side of the intersection. 

You hear a car horn in the distant and a nice summer breeze blow in through your hair.

You open your lock screen.

Nat

You here yet?

You quickly type away a message while also trying to avoid walking into others coming in the opposite direction as you.

You hold tighter onto your bag as it bumps into a girl, your small heels clacking beneath your feet. 

You open your map to see the distance of the location and then reply back to her.

I’m a block away.

You see it from where you’re standing and it had it a decent sized line to get inside. 

Budapëis

It read in white letters on the blackout windows.

You sped up a bit as you got closer, your excitement growing in your belly.

It doesn’t take much longer after you’ve been in line to realize it was actually moving pretty quickly.

A larger and dark man greets you at the entrance and you hand him your ID which he quickly scans. He gives it back to you and you thank him.

Inside the bar was loud. The people chatted away happily and the music thrummed in your bones. It was also very dark, the only light being the orange glows of the candles on some of the tables and the dimmed warm lights hanging above.

You watched as the cute male bartenders worked proficiently and sync, but also making sense to make small talk with each client as much as they could over the loud noise. 

A girl says excuse me but still manages to nudge into you.

Spinning your head around, you realize there are no more seats left to sit and it makes sense why half of the people were all standing around and huddled like cattle.

Oh boy.

You feel a tug on your arm and you spin around to see Nat holding a Martini in her right hand, her left arm going in for an immediate hug.

“You made it!” She says.

“Of course!” You hope she can hear you.

She pulls away and tugs you towards her, “Come on, we’re all in the back.”

You let her lead you to the “back” which is really just a small space in the corner of the bar. 

You immediately recognize Steve, Sam, and Wanda from afar.

“Oh, hey, you made it!” Steve yells, grabbing you in a tight hug.

“Hey, Y/N” “Oh, hey.” Sam and Wanda greet you.

“Hi, sorry I took a bit long. I was doing laundry.”

“Ha.” Sam snorts out loud, “come on you need a drink.” He adds.

“I will, I will —“ you dart your eyes to his own cup and point, “what’s that?”

“New York sour. Tastes like shit. Wanna try?” He says way too excitedly.

“Sure.” He hands you his glass and you take a sip.

You barely have the tip of the glass all the way out of your mouth when a body hits you on your side, making you stumble. 

The drink doesn’t spill crazily, but it’s enough to get on your hand and to leave it sticky, leaving you annoyed. 

You’re also not too fond of the face full of hair you just got and the elbow that keeps nudging into the side of your rips.

You stumble a few centimeters to the left, because seriously, it’s not like you have an option right now.

You look over to the girl who is now laughing and talking exceptionally loud with Nat and all your friends.

Did they really not see that? 

But you wouldn’t blame them, there was barely any light in the place anyway. 

If it weren’t for Sam reaching over the girl’s head to grab your glass, you’d be certain he had forgotten all about you.

You hand it back, cringing as you try not to elbow the girl in the face. 

Sure, she was rude, but you weren’t going to return that sentiment. 

“What’d you think, Y/N?” Sam shouts to you.

It’s then, finally, when the girl looks over at you. 

She was drop dead gorgeous. At least 5’9. Her hair was a natural light brown and her eyes a piercing green.

Clearly a model trying to make it big in the city.

Her face is emotionless at first but then she attempts a smile. 

You feel awkward under her gaze, awaiting an apology when Sam pulls you around. 

“Come on, lets get ya something good.” He says, dragging you the bar.

You follow him until you’re at the side of the counter closest to when you first came in.

You sigh, already dreading this night, when you overhear Sam ordering two shots of tequila and two lemons.

“Me and you, y/l/n.” He says, taking the glass from the cute bartender.

Sam hands you the shot and you both countdown together before taking it simultaneously. 

You chase it with the lemon, and okay yeah, you feel a little bit better.

“Glad we finally got ya out to a real bar.” Sam smiles.

You shrug.

“It’s been a while. Been busy trying to work, book places.”

“Oh, yeah, what is it that you do again?”

“I’m a singer, Sam. Whole reason I came from Ohio. Hello?”

He shoots you an infectious grin.

“I know, I’m just messing with you.”

You sigh. 

Sometimes you did feel like people forgot though, especially in a city with 8 million other people trying to reach the same dream as you.

You hang around your friends for a bit longer, finally, finally getting the opportunity to wish Nat a happy birthday.

It must’ve been about an hour now later and you’re glad that one girl was gone. 

Whoever she was.

“Is Bucky still coming?” Sam asks randomly out loud.

“He said he would get here as soon as he was done with his shift.” Steve mumbles, looking down at his phone, a glass filled with amber alcohol in his other hand.

“Shocked he’s taking so long. Wonder if he knows Aubrey is here.” Sam says.

“He’s an ass. And a whore. He knows.” Nat screams over to the guys.

You look over at Nat and Wanda and you see them already out of it giggling while looking at some guys’ Instagram feed.

“I’m gonna get another drink.” You announce.

“Hell yeah you are, y/l/n!” Sam yells with a wink.

Steve elbows him in the side.

“Stop peer pressuring her.” He says.

“I’m not, she just needs to let loose—“ he voice fades as you walk away. 

You sigh, suddenly feeling exhausted. You contemplated ordering some fries or maybe mozzarella sticks.

You fold your arms onto the cold counter, waiting for the bartender to give you his full attention. 

It takes a bit with the amount of people he’s serving along with the other bartender.

Finally he looks over at you and he smiles bright. 

God, so cute.

You lean your head on your hand.

“Hi, can I have a gin and tonic?”

He taps the table top.

“Sure thing.” You watch his arms flexing as he makes your drink. 

Mmm.

He slides it to you with a wink.

“You on a tab?”

You tell him Nat’s name and everything necessary and he nods. 

You sip your drink, letting the music drown and numb you along with the alcohol. Your finger trails the condensation on the glass gingerly.

“Hey, man.”

A soothing voice comes up next to you, greeting the bartender.

The bartender’s face lights up.

“No, way. Finally out of his damn shell.” The bartender greets him with a over hand handshake.

You slide over to the side a bit, giving them some space. 

The man next to you orders a drink, giving the bartender his card and requesting a tab.

You feel the heat of his presence as he leans on his own arms  over the counter right next to you, and you can’t help smelling the delicious smell of cologne wafting off his body. 

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol but you feel yourself biting on your bottom lip, and sticking your ass in the air, still dragging your hand up and down the glass. 

But this time on purpose.

It doesn’t work.

You look over to take a look at the man in question and you swoon.

His dark brown hair was begging to be pulled and he had the softest of scruff on his face. 

He wore a black leather jacket and jeans and shoes that looked way too expensive. 

You drag your eyes back up his body to see a smirk, and fuck, he’s looking straight at you.

Those eyes. They were so blue.

You blush faintly, turning back to your glass and taking another sip.

You know he’s still there, eyes stilling lingering on you.

He takes his drink and then clears his throat.

You’re expecting him to say something when he leaves.

Your smile fades and you feel a weird emptiness. Rejection? 

No that couldn’t be it. 

You’re finishing your drink when your eyes drift back up to your friends.

Sam, Steve, Wanda, and Nat are all smiling. 

But then Steve is smiling more and the commotion is even bigger as they spin around.

You perk a brow as you watch the man that was just next to you a few moments ago greet your friends.

Was that Bucky? The infamous asshole?

He was beautiful. 

Of course he was. 

You try to compose yourself before walking back over to your friends.

Sam looks at you disappointed, eyes darting to your empty hands.

“I thought you were getting a drink.”

“I already drunk it, dumbass.”

“Why drink there, drink here.”

You chuckle, your eyes darting to Bucky briefly who eyes you for a moment making a connection.

His friends were your friends too.

There was something strange the entire time, about the connection in the air between you two. 

It must’ve been the alcohol. He was way out of your league. 

But you didn’t understand the asshole your friends were talking about. Well, not that you really knew him that much anyway.

As you pretend to be intrigued in your conversation with Nat and Wanda, yours was actually focused on Bucky.

It’s like you both are playing a playful game of who can catch the other looking first. 

You find yourself licking your lip...twirling your hair around your finger…

You swear he’s staring at your finger. 

God, what was happening to you?

“Hey, babe!”

You heart Plummets into your stomach as you see the same girl from before (the one who spilled the drink on you) wrapping her arms around Bucky’s neck and oh yeah, she’s definitely sticking her tongue down his throat.

You feel your heart in your stomach and the strong taste of the gin in your mouth.

He pulls away with a moan and a slight grimace.

“Hey, Aubrey. What are you doing here?” 

His hands go to her arms, prying her off of him.

“I came with a few friends and ran into yours. You haven’t been answering any of my messages.”

“Yeah, we broke up, remember?”

Everyone’s attention is now to Bucky and Aubrey as they watch their interaction.

“But come on, just one more night, one more good fuck for all times sake.”

A heavy snicker leaves your throat, but you quickly try to disguise it by pretending to wipe your mouth. 

The girl’s head spins towards you and she peaking a brow at you.

She quickly ignores you and turns back to Bucky.

“Come on, Bucky.”

Bucky looks over it.

“Aubrey, Aubrey stop.” He says seriously.

She pulls back from him and they stare at each other for a moment longer before she scoffs and spins on her heel.

You turn away from the scene, suddenly needing another drink or at least some fresh air.

You settle for the latter, telling your friends you’d be right back.

You settle to lean back against the brick wall of the bar, taking in the sweet smell of a summer night.

The contrast of the silence outside felt amazing your ears, and the small amount of alcohol in your system only made it better.

You cursed yourself for being a horny little freak. But you chuckle to yourself as you pull out your phone. You couldn’t help that you needed physical attention.

You’re skimming through your emails when you feel someone next to you. You look up to see Bucky, his left shoulder leaning on the wall right next to you.

You find yourself smiling at his little smirk and you bite your bottom lip, looking away.

“You were trying to get my attention so bad before, and now you don’t want to talk?” He asks playfully.

You shake your head, but you still have a smile on your face.

You feel your cheeks grow hot.

“Wow, seriously?” “Am I wrong?”

You think about your answer as you continue to look through your emails, except at this point you were just trying to look like you were.

“No, but that was before I realized who you were.”

His smiled slides off slowly.

“What do you mean?” 

You finally decide to put your phone away and you spin around to look at him, now face to face.

The look in his eyes are intense and you find yourself blushing. You knew all these things about him, but yet he had this aura about him, almost like everyone else was wrong.

Your eyes dart from his eyes and to his lips.

“Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” You say quietly.

When he doesn’t say anything, you look back up until your eyes meet.

“Are they wrong?” He asks.

Your perk a brow at his answer.

“I—I don’t know.” 

He chuckles.

“Exactly.”

You nod, pushing yourself off the wall. You take a deep breath, looking at the people on the street.

“It’s getting late, I should get going.”

Bucky nods, still not moving from his spot.

“Okay, yeah.”

You stay glued to where you are, your eyes darting back to his.

“Yeah.” You repeat back.

You watch as the tip of his tongue licks his lips. You feel the heat in your core and you feel the heavy beating in your chest.

“Do you live close by?” He asks huskily, looking over your shoulder.

____

You don’t know how it happened, but one minute he had you up against the public hallway wall of your apartment building - where literally anyone could see you - and the next he was pushing your jeans passed down your hips in your living room.

You groaned as your lips connected again, and as you pulled on his hair again.

He cursed into your lips as he cupped your center, feeling how wet you already were for him. 

You whimpered as he rubbed small circles over your clit, before finally inserting his finger deep inside of you.

He pushed you down onto your bed, his left hand still fucking you. You lifted your left leg onto the bed and he groaned into your mouth as he quickened the pace of his hand. 

You threw your head back, moaning.

You felt your desire quickly dissipate as he pulled away from you.

Bucky chuckled at your whine, but your disappointment was short lived as your watched him pull his shirt and jeans off.  

You did the same with your own top and then your bra.

He was on you in a hot second, capturing your lips in a long kiss that had your toes curling against your blanket.

When he pulled away you were captivated by how delicious he looked. You also couldn’t help but swoon at the look he had in his eyes. 

Endearment? You weren’t sure.

Your fingers trail over the side of his face as he continues to stare down at you.

“I’m not the bad guy,” he kisses you. He slides into you with a grunt, “I swear, I’m not him.” He kisses you again.

Your hook your left leg over his hip, pulling him in deeper into your hot core.

You pull away from his mouth, your left hand going down to his stomach.

“Fuck. Fuck.” You pant heavily. It felt too good too fast and you know he felt it too as he stretched his forearms on either side of your head.

A long whimper leaves his lips as he sets a faster pace, fucking you into your bed.

He almost looses it completely when he feels you reaching down to rub at your clit, your fingers hitting the base of his cock and his little hairs.

You feel your pussy tightening around him and you know you’re so damn close.

“Yeah, come on, baby. That’s it.” He coaxes you, panting desperately into the crook of your neck.

You feel the fire burning in the pit of your tummy and you know that with a few more thrusts and a few more rubs on your clit that you were done for.

The sounds in your little apartment were filthy. You could hear his hips snapping against yours and both of your groans.

He slowed down his pace as you felt yourself come undone.

“Shit, I’m cumming.” You tell him through gritted teeth, your face only millimeters from his.

He has a wicked smirk on his face and some of his sweaty strands of hair stick to his forehead.

“Me too, fuck, I’m cumming, too.” He says.

You scream as you pulse around his hard cock, not missing the way his own eyes squeeze together, a strong grunt leaving his mouth.

His hips slow down to a stop and when you open your eyes again, he’s already staring down at you.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.” You say, running your hand through his hair.

Bucky chuckles as he leans forward to leave a kiss on your collarbone.

[aewriting]

This was inspired by some info about class trips on the discord server last night.  See the link above to read on AO3. This is fluffy fluff!

Warnings for canon-compliant implied underage sexual behavior, some homophobia.

***

Michael?”

“Yeah, Mr. G?”

Mr. G glances around almost nervously. “You sure you’re okay rooming with Alex for the whole trip?”

Michael frowns. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Mr. G swallows hard, clearly flustered. “Er, no reason.” Shakes his head a bit. “I’m just glad we’ve got all the room assignments settled now.”

Michael shrugs.

“Alright,” says Mr. G, clapping his hands together. “If at any point you need to make a change or anything, just let me know. We’ve got an odd number of boys, and David Ramirez is in a single right now, so that’s always an option.”

Michael has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “I’ll be fine.” More than fine, if things go according to plan.

“Good, good,” murmurs Mr. G.

***

“No leaving the room after 8pm. At 8pm,” Mrs. Carlson says, looking stern, “we tape the outside of the doors. If your tape is broken, you are gone. It’s a six hour round trip between Roswell and Santa Fe, and I don’t think any of your parents want to do that.”

Mr. G nods in solidarity. “No drinking. No smoking. No weed. No drugs of any kind! And absolutely no sneaking out the windows or trying to use the balconies to get from room to room. Also, no using the pool after hours...”

Michael tunes out, eyes Alex. It’s been a week. A week since Alex tried to kiss him in the shed and Michael freaked the fuck out. He’s thought about it nonstop, turned over about a million redemptive possibilities in his head - talk to him at school, hope he enters the tool shed again some evening, go see him at the UFO Emporium where he works...

But then he remembered this trip, and everything’s actually falling into place. He, he can’t avoid him if they’re sharing a room - right?

“I’m going to hand out your key cards now,” Mr. G says, so serious. “And I want you to remember - whoever you are rooming with, that is your buddy! Your guy!”

“Or girl,” Mrs. Carlson adds.

His guy, huh? Michael looks at Alex, slunk against a pillar in the back of the lobby. He looks uncomfortable, like he doesn’t want to be here. Well. By the time this trip is over, Michael is hoping Alex won’t want to leave.

“Wherever your buddy goes, you go too, understood?”

No response.

“Understood?” Mrs. Carlson repeats, in a louder, sterner tone.

“Yes,” comes a smattering of voices.

“Excellent,” she says. “We will be passing out itineraries along with your key cards. Couple highlights, though - curfew is 8pm. No one is to leave their room between 8pm and 7am. We will be checking. At 7, we will start knocking on doors, making sure everyone is awake, and we will all meet in the lobby for the breakfast buffet at 7:30. We board the bus at 8:15.”

Michael tries to ignore the rumble in his stomach at the words “breakfast buffet.” His breakfast is usually a sleeve of the cheap peanut butter and cheese crackers that he picks up from the gas station. They’re fairly filling, and they keep forever, even in the back of a truck. The idea of a real breakfast? As much as he wants? The trip would be worth it just for that.

Let alone rooming with Alex Manes.

***

“You boys all settled?” Mr. G asks them.

Alex is sitting on the edge of the bed closest to the window, duffel bag next to him, looking surly.

“All good, Mr. G,” Michael says brightly, with his pluckiest smile.

“Great, Michael!” Mr. G says. He’s the physics teacher and the volleyball coach. Has always liked Michael.

He turns to Alex, frowns. “We gonna be okay, Mr. Manes?”

Alex blows out a short, exasperated breath. Michael feels like he’s missing something.

“There won’t be any trouble? Like on the regional choir trip?”

Michael, who’s studied Alex just as much as he’s studied any academic subject, notices the clenched jaw, the flash of anger.

“That was bull - “ he stops. Shakes his head. “That was a bunch of lies that Ryan made up.”

Mr. G gives a tight little nod. “Takes two to tango, Manes, I get that, but... but just know I’ve got my eyes on you. Definitely don’t want to have to place another call to your father.”

And Michael sees everything - the almost-flinch, the way Alex swallows thickly before replying. “No, sir,” he says in a short, clipped tone. Not, not his usual voice or mannerisms.

Even Mr. G seems to notice that, frowns a little. “Well, okay. And Michael, what we talked about earlier, if you need to make a change...”

Alex is looking at Michael now, eyes narrow. Michael holds out his hands, guileless. “I’m sure Alex and I will be fine for a night or two.” Or fifty. Or, or a hundred...

Alex scoffs a little.

Mr. G softens. “Alright. Well, you’ve got 15 minutes before curfew.”

“Just tape us in now!” Michael says. “I think we’re good for the night.”

Alex regards him with a raised eyebrow.

“Nowhere I’d rather be,” Michael adds.

“Great!” says Mr. G. “Thanks, Michael. Have a good night, guys, and we’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night, Mr. G!” Michael calls.

The door shuts, and Michael can hear Mr. G, true to his word, taping the door shut.

The irony, Michael thinks, is that it wouldn’t matter. Not for him. He’s good with his powers - easy enough to ease off the tape, put it back with his mind. No one would be the wiser. But he’s wasn’t lying earlier - there’s nowhere he’d rather be.

He turns around, and Alex is still sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed, eyes cast downward.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, maybe sensing Michael’s eyes on him. “You can go room with David if you want.” Alex shrugs. “If it’s weird here with me.”

Michael sits down on his own bed. “I’ve been living with you for two months already.”

Alex’s brow furrows. “That’s not, its not the same. I’m not, like, in the shed with you.”

Michael bites his lip. “You are sometimes.” Decides to be brave and look right at Alex. “The best times.”

Alex’s head whips up. He looks at Michael, questioning. Hopeful?

It fortifies Michael. “Yeah,” he breathes, getting up, going over to Alex’s bed, sitting next to him, so close. “Yeah, Alex.”

He starts to lean in, but Alex leans back, looking tense, eyes darting. “What, what about...” he trails off. “Michael,” he says, sounding so pained.

“I like you, Alex.”

Alex eyes him suspiciously. “Like me?” He exhales shakily. “What, what does that even mean?”

And at that, Michael just goes for it - leans in, into Alex’s space - not too fast. “Means I wanna kiss you, Alex.”

Alex eyes go so wide, and he nods, keeps nodding, even as Michael presses his lips to his.

Michael loves Alex’s shocked little gasp, the way he leans into it...

Doesn’t, doesn’t love the way he quickly pulls back. Looks away.

Alex is frowning, seems to be looking down at the floor, taking in deep breaths.

“Alex?” Michael asks, worried.

The way that Alex responds... doesn’t sound like the Alex Michael knows. “You ever done this before?” he asks, voice tight.

“Um, yeah,” Michael says, almost laughing a little, because - yeah. He’s been doing this since he was 14. But... “But never with, with...”

“With a guy,” Alex says, a little resigned.

“No,” Michael says softly. Lays his hand on Alex’s knee. “And never with someone I’ve liked as much as I like you.”

Alex’s odd detachment vanishes immediately, and he’s looking at Michael in... in wonder. It's wonder, on Alex Manes' face right now. And Michael put it there.

“I want this,” Michael whispers. “Want you.”

***

Knock knock knock.  

They both startle, maybe a little too accustomed to rude awakenings, to the need to be immediately alert and on guard.

“Shit,” Alex mutters into Michael’s shoulder, edge of panic.

“Rise and shine!” comes Mr. G’s voice, way too chipper for 7am.

Michael feels how all of Alex’s muscles have locked up. He rolls over, grips Alex’s hip. “Stay here." He pulls the covers up, up past Alex's bare chest, his shoulders.  "Just like this."

He hops out of the bed, pulls on the closest pair of underwear he finds. They’re Alex’s, he realizes, too late, and it makes him grin. “Coming Mr. G!” he calls, and the knocking stops.

Michael pulls the door open a few inches, hears the tape rip away. Smiles. “Morning!”

Mr. G clocks Michael’s state of undress, seems unfazed. “Morning, Michael. Everything, everything go okay here last night?”

Michael shrugs. “Just fine. Turned in early, actually. Manes here is more of a night owl, go figure. I don’t think he’s really awake yet.”

Mr. G peers past him, looks at Alex “sleeping” in the far bed. Looks at Michael’s bed and frowns slightly.

“You, you already made your bed?”

Shit. “Yeah. I mean, I was up.”

“Um, that’s very nice and all, but it’s a hotel.”

Michael looks at him, uncomprehending. “Okay...?”

Mr. G’s frown deepens. “Have, have you ever stayed in a hotel, Michael?”

Michael shakes his head, and Mr. G suddenly looks almost sad.

“Oh. Well. Um, there are housekeepers. At hotels. They make your bed for you.”

Michael scoffs a little, genuinely surprised. “For real?”

“Yeah,” says Mr. G. He swallows, musters up a little smile. “No worries though. I appreciate you boys following the rules last night. Now,” he says, “can you be a good buddy to Mr. Manes here and make sure you’re both up and dressed and ready for breakfast?”

“My pleasure,” Michael says.

Mr. G looks at him approvingly. “Great! See you in the lobby for the breakfast buffet at 7:30.” He leans in a bit. “They’ve got bacon.”

“Sounds good,” Michael says enthusiastically. “See you soon.”

With a little wave, Mr. G closes the door, and Michael locks it behind him. Makes his way back to the bed.

“You heard the man, Alex. I'm supposed to be a good buddy to you."

And the way Alex looks right then, rumpled and sleep-soft, one eyebrow arched - it sends Michael somewhere, somewhere he didn’t even realize he could go. Somewhere warmer, better. Somewhere with... with kindness and caring. Smiles and coffee and, and kids and music and fucking togetherness and...

Fuck. Wow. Okay.

Michael shakes his head a bit, blows out a breath. “And as buddies,” he says, running his hand up Alex’s side, “we have to stick together. At all times. And I think it’s time for our shower.”

Alex laughs, lets his head flop back to the pillow. Reaches out for Michael, pulls him in, kisses him. “Best trip ever,” he murmurs.

“With the best person,” Michael whispers and, god, he means it.

[jackidy]

If You Let Me: Chapter 3

Rating: T Pairings: Demyx/Zexion, Demyx/Ienzo (Eventual/Slowburn) Characters: Various, Zexion/Ienzo Centric Setting: BBS to KH3, Canon compliant mostly

Warnings: Canon Character Death (Temporary)

Summary: “It’s almost a shame really, that you probably won’t survive this.” Only he did. Spending the prelude to adulthood as a nobody, a supposed empty husk of a being was never an option any of them considered, least of all a newly named Zexion who would be living every last one of them.

Note: And we are back!! Moving was made a lot more stressful by unforeseen circumstances both personal and nationwide. Short chapter as writers block raised her head but hopefully things will be better by next chapter. 

Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 

---

Year 3

It’s hard to not become lost within the world of Crescentia, the sight of space igniting excitement in his bones as the heavy smell of industry, stale and fuel heavy, settled in his lungs like a welcome hug. His second visit to this world, to observe and record its people, its status and the spread of darkness but none of that mattered, his orders pushed to the back of his mind as black coats melded into those of the world: soft browns, comfortable and easy to move in, soft fabrics, loose clothes and tight boots.

Zexion adores it here.

“I do wish you’d stop running off as soon as we land.” Despite Vexen’s sour remark, the excitement Zexion feels is not quenched, only half listening to the scientist’s complaint as a ship flies overhead, sails seemingly made of shimmering gold, sailing straight for the abyss of space. “Are you listening to me, child?” He’s jerked out of his amazement, hand firmly on his shoulder as if to tether him to reality, finally looking up to Vexen who not annoyed but understanding.

“Not a word.” Perhaps its cheeky, a comment too far but he finds himself not caring, breathless with exhilaration and the closest he’s felt to human in near three years. To his credit, Vexen says nothing, simply sighing and shaking his head before letting go of Zexion’s shoulder, gesturing forward with his hands with the smallest of smiles on his lips.

“Don’t go too far.” The scientist sighs, allowing Zexion to run off, his gaze never straying to far from where the child was. Any other time he’d be annoyed, slip away with an illusion and then deal with wrathful consequences later but in this world, in this world the pressure of his expectations was merely a blip in the background, muffled by the wonder at every marvel he saw.

Radiant Garden and the advancements in technology, now laying dormant in the castle’s bowels, had never felt less important to him. What was the power of the heart in comparison to the lure of adventure? The appeal of flying galleons soaring through the night sky to endless discoveries a sirens call?

Vexen is, as always, easily distracted by oddities, the market littered with both curiosities the scientists could barely fathom to the more familiar and mundane. Baked goods sold alongside livestock, monsters of the deep space that almost resembled the shadow creatures that dwelled outside the marble walls in The World That Never Was, missing only the symbol to denote their true nature.

But then, the Shadow Heartless also never had them.

Perhaps that’s why Vexen is observing them so closely, listening fully enraptured as the salesman spills their pitch. From the abyss of space, found on some remote planet that was begging to be colonised, docile and somewhat clingy, would make an excellent pet for his young son. These worlds were fully of strange beings, Zexion knows this, Vexen knows this, but the hauntingly yellow eyes and jittering movements seem out of place even in this bazaar of galactic wonders.

“Do you have any other creatures like this?”  It’s hard to miss the way the other’s eyes light up, fully trusting a sale was to be made, scaled and clawed hands rubbing together in either excitement or from the cold, both Nobodies assuming it to be the former. “Would there be anywhere my son could go whilst we discuss? Children can be rather talkative and the end outcome is, well, to be a surprise for my wife.”

Zexion refrains from snorting, his humour brought to life by the mere thought of who the mystery wife back at the castle was. Xaldin? No, Lexaeus? Perhaps. Xigbar and Xemnas were just laughable, Zexion acting ever the innocent and unsuspecting child as he was led to a nearby stall. Manned only by an elderly woman, strangely tortoise like in appearance, a stall full of an all manner of delicacies, baked, golden and still warm, as claws deftly wove wool together.

“Stay here and don’t cause any trouble for, Ms Bones.”

Is it Vexen or the seller who speaks? Zexion doesn’t know, nervous as he takes the seat next to the creature, her large yellow eyes watching him all the way. She had pupils, she’s not one of the heartless monsters, but, then again, she wouldn’t be the first heartless creature he had met with pupiled yellow eyes. Xehanort held firmly onto that title, even if Zexion was a greater monster than even he. It was his fault the lab had been built in the first place.

Without that lab, none of this would have ever happened.

“Do you like stories, young master?” Her voice creaks as she speaks, like old wood in a storm, pausing her knitting to offer him a pasty from the table before continuing. It’s still warm, the heat welcome in both his finger tips and mouth as he cautiously took a bite, nervous as to what he might taste only to find the warmth of a homemade meal wrapped in layers of flaky, buttery pastry.

He nods, both in enjoyment of the food and to encourage her on, the monster of an elder not so much scary now as she was inviting, sharing in the same curse Lexaeus had. Intimidating yet warm. Perhaps all the best people were, for Zexion himself was neither of these and, by no means, one of the better people.

“I have many stories, let’s see…” She frowns as she ponders, knitting paused as she stares at a spot in the market stall roof before something seems to sparkle in her eye, an excitement seeming to burn through her. “Have you heard of the great Captain Nathaniel Flint?” He shakes his head this time, mouth still filled with food, old lessons from both Dilan and Ansem on the rudeness of speaking with a full mouth as clear as ever. Ms Bones grins, or so Zexion supposes, crooked teeth exposed as she swoops in, a little too close for comfort, knitting abandoned on her lap before leaning away, becoming more expressive as she recalls the tale of her choosing. “There are nights when the Etherium is as calm and peaceful as a pond of the planet Pelasnor…”

As the months have passed since his initial request, Zexion has grown to dread the one on one meetings with Xemnas. By no means frequent but always end the same, with a look of disdain and contempt every single time he failed to achieve what Xemnas wanted him to, something easier said than done when the only thing the other had given him to work with was a girl with blue hair. None resided in his memories, none of any significance at least, the only memories of blue hair belonging to the old Saix, Isa.

Zexion has his doubts that the girl Xemnas wants to remember was Isa.

The whole process of helping his superior to remember would be easier if he allowed him to use his book to it’s full potential, Zexion tensing with annoyance as his elder once again admonished him. “Your lack of improvement with your abilities is disappointing, VI.” Never one to mince his words, was he? Zexion inhaling slowly to try and temper down the remark clawing at his throat. “Try again.”

“The result will be the same, sir, I need more information to work from.” Vexen would be proud of the civility, he thinks, unclenching his hands as he studied Xemnas’ face, waiting for a reaction. Nothing. It doesn’t even move. A blank canvas of a face just looking back at him, as if he hadn’t even registered what the child had even said. “If you make contact with my Lexicon, things will be easier.”

That garners a reaction, both a frown and glare marring Xemnas’ features and Zexion feels every bit the child he was, something akin to fear creeping down his spine. “Disappointing.” Xemnas repeats, the dismissal clear in his voice, Zexion not bothering for it to be vocal before standing to leave. A shake in his hands, he takes a breath, a shallow bid to calm the anger curling within him as he offered his superior both a mock bow and an ever so ingenuine apology.

“My apologies, sir. I’ll aim to be less disappointing to you next time.”

If Xemnas notices the contempt in his voice, the older nobody says nothing, a lazy wave of the hand the only indication Zexion gets that the other heard a word he said. Good, he thinks, opening a portal to his own quarters on the off chance Xigbar would bother him for secrets once more, he’d rather the superior think of him as beneath his expectations of the child.

Would make proving him wrong later all the more satisfying.  

The lab is cold, freezing even, Zexion curious as always as to if Vexen made it that way or if he was simply unaware of the chill, a curious side glance to the redhead exuding heat near by causing Zexion to conclude that maybe, just maybe, it was intentional. His lack of respect and joy for Axel, both as a Somebody and a Nobody, would be humorous if Zexion wasn’t concerned he’d become an unforeseen casualty in the process.

Vexen’s experiments on the creatures from Crescentia seemed to have been going well then, newer creatures than the ones they initially brought back blinking back at the trio with curiosity, though some cowered whilst others prowled, clearly hostile. Was that why Axel was here? Make shift security in case something went wrong? He wasn’t usual present for this but he’d been ushered into the lab by an almost excited Vexen, energized ramblings of needing a witness to his hypothesis spilling from his lips.

And that’s how he finds himself sat here, clipboard in hand, looking between Vexen, still muttering to himself as he bent over a lab report, and Axel, finger poised and ready to tap on the glass of the nearest enclosure. “Confirming my earlier thoughts, the samples we collected from Crescentia have proven to be heartless. Whilst this world holds no known keyblade wielder, theorized to be the only thing to truly destroy a heartless and free the heart within, this world has show resilience in that they have not only managed to subdue the creatures but also cage and transport them without the means of darkness.”

“Would it be ridiculous to suggest that perhaps they were waiting for a place with more prey? Crescentia is a bustling port.” Zexion pipes up, the lab falling into silence bar the tap of a finger on glass, Vexen’s face seeming to go through the motions of denial and acceptance of Zexion’s concept, clapping his hands together before rubbing them together as yet another wave of giddy energy washed over his mentor.

“That would suggest a level of intelligence not exhibited in the others, something for further research and development. Would you be willing to- “He cuts himself off, both scientists turning to the red head as he continued to tap, the heartless inside growling as it once again lashed out against the glass. “Continue to tap that tank, VIII, and I will tap you with the spiked edge of my shield.”

Axel pauses midtap and Zexion bites back a laugh, the red head clearly not bothered by the withering glare sent in his direction, something that only added to the hilarity of the situation. “You’re the one ignoring me here, doc, you said there was a reason you forced me down here.” Axel straightens and shrugs, an illusion of cocksure grandeur upon him as he smirks at the blonde. “Gotta entertain myself somehow.”

“You’re here to assist in taking down a specimen should it escape and attack.” His voice is firm, Zexion recognising it as the one he frequently used upon Xigbar whenever the other lurked around the labs, his gaze now reserved for the file in his hand. As if the younger nobody wasn’t worth the effort of looking at. “Frankly, I’d have asked for anyone else but it seems the Superior deemed it required everyone else be mission bound.”

A splutter of indignation, Zexion taking a shaky breath in as the laughter threatened to overflow, Axel’s protests over Vexen’s remark seeming falling on deaf ears as the elder Nobody simply ignored him in favour for his research.

---

Its difficult to not look at Saix.

The wound is new, still fresh but it fails to look it, a faint swelling around the eyes and the red hue that came with it the only thing that gave away any hint to the recent wound. Cauterised, a giant cross to mar his face stretching from brow to cheek, Zexion can only wonder when looking at it won’t bring a cold feeling of unease to his stomach. ‘You know who did that to him.’ A voice whispers in the back of his head, a voice that suspiciously sounds like his whole self, cloaking himself on instinct as the smell of moonshine and cinders permeated the library.

“We should have been more careful.” Saix’s voice is hushed but all noises carry in an otherwise silent library, Zexion’s grip on the book tightening as the teenaged pair walk past, two pairs of eyes scanning the alleyways between shelves for any sign of life in an almost paranoid fashion. Illusions only work if you’re silent, Xaldin had lectured as much months ago and he’d committed it to memory ever since, regulating his breathing to something more silent and shallow as he listened in.

“We were careful.” His voice is soft, Zexion peering through the bookcase to find Axel reaching for Saix’s face, hand quivering before a cheek before the preteen moves away, grimacing both over the act and the sight of the scar. It was bad enough he was eavesdropping in on the clearly private conversation, why add further discomfort by bearing visual witness to it. “He hurt you, Isa.”

The silence returns, Zexion ready to make his escape, planning to summon a clone outside the door to open it only to hesitate as he hears a drawn-out sigh. “We should stop this, Axel, at least until we know his suspicions have been dropped.”

“Do you not care about finding her anymore? I thought the whole reason we joined was for her!”

“We got careless and now her name, his brand, is across my face.”

Calm and collect verses a heat and fury, a contrast in tones but both spoken with underlining meanings that Zexion was not privy to knowing. The stench of acrid smoke is almost suffocating, steadily building as the exchange continues, the illusionist taking a deeper breath to launch his escape when the argument comes to a head. Acrid smoke simmers away into almost nothing, the hostility in the air evaporating, leaving the young nobody curious as to what Saix did to both calm and soothe Axels temper.

“He hurt her. He hurt me. I won’t let him hurt you.”

It’s been a while since his last lesson with Lexaeus, the gentle giant almost always off world recently due to missions now assigned by Saix, leaving much of Zexion’s explorations within the science of food in his own hands. He’d missed it, though he hesitates to admit it, a sense of normality in their otherwise abnormal non-lives, the sound of a knife against a chopping board more soothing than it had any real reason to be.

“Where were you sent this time?” Zexion enquires, hair meticulously pinned out of his eyes as he worked his way through the potatoes for today’s lesson. There’s no response at first, the child wondering if the other had even heard him, opening his mouth with every intention of repeating the question when he finally gets his response.

“Atlantica.”

“How was it?”

The knife pauses, accompanied by a thoughtful hum.

“Wet.”

A choked laugh, the mixture of a dry delivery and little to no change in expression, if Lexaeus hadn’t intended the comment as a joke then he had failed in delivery. Taking the next potato, he grimaces, placing it to the side before reaching to the next, the duality of his sense of smell, both a blessing and a curse, never more apparent.

“Spoilt?” Zexion nods, setting about his work again, counting each of prepared tubers before continuing. One per person. It’s what the recipe called for but it was doubtful everyone would eat the food they provided, they hadn’t before now and Zexion has difficulty believing that would change now. “You’re getting better at recognising the differences.”

“I’ve had time to practise, I wasn’t trusting Vexen to cook for me.” Vexen was many things. A brilliant, if not slightly mad, scientist who strove the test the limits of what was thought possible. His most prominent father figure. Somewhat paranoid in most matters involving the Superior, though, Zexion can only surmise this was in response to the events that lead to this hollow existence in the first place. But he was, in any shape or form, a cook, his reservoir of culinary knowledge extending little beyond the simplest of dishes and, whilst delicious, the pallet can only withstand scrambled eggs and toast for so long.

This gains him a chuckle, Zexion wiping peelings and the rejected vegetable into the bin, turning back to his work station only to be presented with a small knife and the instruction to cut into one-inch cubes. “What if I cut myself?” He feels ridiculous asking, he’s more than old enough to use a knife to prepare food and had done whilst Lexaeus was gone, his gloves hiding the evidence of misadventure with knife skills whilst alone in the kitchen.

“Then you’ll learn not to do it again.”

He wants to take off his gloves, to exhibit the plethora of small nicks in his fingers and prove the giant wrong, staring at his hands a little too intently before taking the knife from Lexaeus and sighing. There was no point in worrying him, he thinks, the momentary satisfaction of proving him wrong wouldn’t be worth the aftermath like it was with the rest of his peers, tongue poking out from lips as Zexion set about completing his task.

They’ve recorded details of the heartless brought from Crescentia, from size to attack style, the only thing lacking in their basic research of the creatures to be if they would release a heart upon perishing. Nobody within the world was a keyblade wielder, at least to their knowledge, and it seemed unlikely they would find one to complete this aspect of their notes anytime soon.

Researching the intelligence of the heartless had proved fruitless beyond proving that, despite the evidence to the contrary in Crescentia, they didn’t hold a higher semblance of intelligence. Slouching over the desk, a task easier said than done when it was built for Vexen, Zexion pinches his pen in the middle, sending the heartless tank opposite him an intense stare as he rapidly tapped the ends of the pen in tandem.

Something was bothering him, something he couldn’t yet put his finger on, counting down the five minutes Vexen said he’d be absent for in mumbles as his thoughts ran wild with potential theories and hypotheses. Most encountered held a lower level of intelligence, some attacked in pack formation like feral wolves, they all had bright yet hollow yellow eyes and some had symbols on them whilst others had none.

There was something here they were overlooking, something obvious and it infuriated him, no doubt it bothered Vexen too. One hundred and sixty-four seconds. Two minutes and fourteen seconds. That’s how long he had to come up with even a slither of an idea of what this all meant in the grand scheme of things, pen flying from his fingers after his grip slackens and a tap too hard.

A lesser nobody brings it back, a Scholar, one of Vexen’s own personal type, all points and stiff lines. They were more pleasant to look at than the lowest of them, the dusks, boneless creatures that would drag themselves hip forward when Zexion imagines it would be better to slither on the floor like a snake. The opposite of heartless, the small shadows at least, who juddered and quaked with every movement, seemingly as stiff as rusted iron whilst the dusks were as fluid as water at times.

He’s still looking at the Nobody when Vexen returns, tea in hand and countdown forgotten, a clearing of the throat snapping Zexion from his thoughts as he jolts up, clearly startled as his eyes settle on his mentor and fellow researcher. “Surely I wasn’t gone so long, child, that you felt the need to daydream.”

“Not daydream, but observe and think.” Zexion corrects, accepting the cup of deep red tea as it was handed to him, refraining from slouching as he nursed the hot porcelain in his hands. Anything to warm his hands in this lab without vocally asking Vexen to do something about the cold, knowing full well the elder would either ignore him or admonish him for something that was apparently the cause of his poor circulation. The past three months as assistant on Vexen’s mission to catalogue and code the different heartless had confirmed that Vexen was not only immune to the chill of his lab but likely also the cause.

“Did your observations lead you to any conclusions of interest?” A loaded question, by all means, their goals the same but what qualified as a point of interest between the two did not always coincide. Zexion takes a large swig of his tea, still too hot to count as fully drinkable but would aid in the next few moments should Vexen dismiss his idea as something not worth thinking about, his throat burning as warmth spread through his system.

“We’re two sides of the same coin, the result of what happens when a human or being loses its heart. If they follow a similar ranking and classification as we do in terms of power then…”

“Then it would not be out of the question if the higher ranks have the power to control the lesser heartless.” Vexen finishes, no cold dismissal in the air as it appeared the blonde was not only taken with the concept but on board with it. Within the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t overly important, not really, thoughts of the heartless only stretching as far as an annoyance and a tool to be used to gain access to Kingdom Hearts within the Organisation. Xemnas might know more but, as with most things, he was too tight lipped to spill any secret knowledge he may have.

“You know this all serves no purpose, right, Child?”

“Yes.” Zexion nods, thought for a moment before the faintest of smiles tugs at his lips. He wonders if Vexen can still recall the small, nonsensical experiments they would do as somebodies, when he’d walk up with the confidence only a small child could muster and slide a crude drawing over a wooden desk of what he wanted to do and the results he wanted.

They were always simple. How to make flames burn in different colours, how different things contort and change under extreme temperatures, or if they even did, and, more often than not, how to cause the most amount of damage in the smallest amount of time. Childish in nature and, yet, Even still approached them with all the seriousness of a man on the brink of a new scientific discovery. It’s what initially inspired him to delves into the sciences, the desire to be just like Even.

“You’ve left a feeling of nostalgia in me, young one, a fleeting joy.” His voice is oddly soft, Vexen not looking at him but Zexion knows him to be smiling, no matter how faint it may be. How long has it been since they shared a moment like this, without a hint of resentment addled disappointment towards each other? As what they were regardless of form, a father and son both overly invested in a shared topic. “You’re swaying me onto a dangerous trajectory, the day is not ours to waste."

The silence stretches on, cobalt meets acid green and a grin brimming with unrestrained mischief stretches the child’s lips. “And yet I see your body turning towards the cabinets filled with the potential for mischief, old man.” A manic smile returns his and Zexion can barely contain the excitement coursing through his veins.

[rogue-barnes-16]

I'M A MONSTER

Summary: Y/n knew for a fact that Wanda was definitely not doing well when it came to dates. After a particular rough night, Y/n finds out the reason for what had been happening.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!Reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @1a-girl-has-no-name1 @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver

Warnings: language, angst, makeout session

A/N: —

"Morning" I greeted the three members of the Avengers who were doing nothing but chill in the leisure room.

"Mornin' doll" Bucky replied without looking up from his laptop.

Clint gave me a quick glance before redirecting his whole attention to the TV show he was watching. "You look terrible."

"Thank you very much." I replied sarcastically, pouring myself a glass of orange juice. "it's Steve's fault, by the way." Bucky asked an intrigued 'how so', to which I responded. "had to train with him because someone didn't show up this morning, right Wan?"

The brunette witch, who hadn't even spared me a brief look, nor a single word, flickered her gaze to my form. "Sorry."

"what happened?" I asked, keeping it cool.

I didn't want her to realize I had heard her cry until she fell asleep the night before, right after she had come back from another date.

I didn't want her to know I was worried sick about something I wasn't supposed to know, so I kept it cool.

"Nothing," she shrugged turning the page of her book without making eye contact with anyone in the room. "I was just not in the mood."

"Wait what the fuck?" my eyes traveled to the archer. "Wanda, this doesn't work like that." Clint scolded her. "You gotta train every day, it's not about being 'in the mood', this is your job."

"Clint, give her a break." I tried to get in the middle and cool things down after seeing the way Wanda started to fidget with her ring, just like she did every time she was anxious or uncomfortable. "it was a one time thing."

"It wasn't." Bucky spoke, giving me a look before turning his gaze to Wanda. "I really hate to lecture you, but Barton's right." Wanda's green eyes looked for aid in mines, but I wasn't sure of how to help her. You've been skipping training on and off for two weeks, kid." she left the book aside and started pulling at her sleeves. "If you feel like you can't keep up with Y/n's rhythm, say it. Tony will change your partner but-"

She grabbed the book and, after abruptly getting up from the bed, Wanda stalked out of the room.

"what's gotten into her now?" Clint asked, rather worried.

"Dunno man." after Bucky’s reply to Clint's rhetorical question, the soldier's blue eyes lingered on my form, longer enough for me to notice. "Hey Y/n" When he called my attention, I knew he was onto something. "why don't you go and check on Maximoff?"

"Why would I?" I quietly asked whilst internally dying to sprint through the hall in order to reach Wanda's room.

Bucky waited an instant before answering me, in which he took the liberty of analyzing my body language. "You're the closest to the door." with a half grin playing in his lips, he turned back to the laptop.

Damn, he knew.

"I mean-" I cleared my throat, considering all my alternatives. "I think she just needs some time alone."

Nor Bucky, nor Clint turned around, but I could feel their confusion.

Despite my shocking reply, I wasn't actually lying.

Wanda was a very introverted girl, very sensitive. She had her own way of dealing with her own problems and, as much as I would love to help, her ways, more often than not, didn't include the girl who had fallen in love with her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Friday night again.

Wanda had gone on a date again.

"you seem happy" I lazily commented, pretending I hadn't been stealing glances at her smile since that morning, when she received a message from a random stranger.

"Oh" she attempted to bit back a smile by chewing her lower lip. "Do I?" I turned around to see her struggling to zip up her dress. "Hey Y/n can you-"

"Hold on" I left the book I was reading aside and stepped towards her. "where ya going?" I questioned, parting her hair from her back.

"Uhm I have a..." I felt her, rather than heard her, sigh when my fingertips intentionally ghosted a line down from her neck to her bare low back before actually zipping her dress. "I have a date."

"Nice." I whispered, accommodating her long hair back in its initial place. "have fun and take care alright?" I struggled to pull my hands away from her.

"I will." she replied, turning around with beaming eyes that seemed to be waiting for something else from me. "don't worry."

I had been taking it out on one of the gym's punching bags for at least a couple of hours, until I was so tired that I couldn't walk, until I had no energy to keep hurting for things I would never say, until every feeling I had for Wanda had been shoved out of my body, at least for a while.

I was making my way to my room when I heard her crying again.

This time I was too tired to hold back, I was too tired to think about giving her space, and before I knew it, I was pushing open Wanda's room's door.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I tiredly asked, taking her completely off guard and, therefore, making her give me her back while she cleaned her tears.

"Nothing, I-I'm fine." she lamely lied.

"Wanda, don't even try, I'm not stupid." I replied, taking a few steps towards her. "almost every night you go out on a date, you come here crying."

She shook her head, slowly turning around, hugging herself. "That's not-"

"I swear on my life" I stared speaking, finally reaching her. "If those assholes are hurting you I'm gonna kill them one by fucking one."

"it's not like that." she muttered with trembling lips.

"what do you mean?"

"it's my fault" she choked up, finally making her green eyes, now glassy and bloodshot, dig into mines. "I'm a monster."

She let herself fall to the floor sat against the wall, straight up sobbing, and I couldn't do anything but stare blankly at her, barely starting to process what had just come out of her plump, rosy lips.

"Wanda" my voice sounded broken, but I couldn't help it. "Wanda, that's not true. What the fuck" I kneeled before her, caressing tenderly and reassuringly every part of her that I reached. "that's not fucking true. Wanda look at me. Wanda." I lifted her chin. "that's not fucking true."

"it is." she replied, sniffing with her eyes shut and her lips pursed in an attempt to stop the tears and the quivering. "you just don't wanna see it. No one--" hiccup. "no one here does b-but I know it's true."

"Wanda for fucks sake it's not true." I pulled her hands to get her to look at me because I was dying to show her how wrong that statement was, even if I wasn't sure yet of how I was going to show her. "Wanda please-- listen to me. Doesn't my opinion count or what the fuck?"

"It's- It's n-not like that it's-- I'm-- Y/n you don't... You see wh- only what you-- you don't see my dark side... I..." words came out of her stumbling as she tried to cover her face once more.

"Look at me!" I tugged her hands harder this time, in a way that she had no option but stare into my eyes, red from holding back the tears. "I don't fucking see your dark side? who the fuck was in Sokovia by your side when you lost it? Whose mind you played with the first time I met you?" the brunette's lip quivered again and I brought her closer. "You're not a monster."

"youjustsaythatbecauseyouloveme" the sentence came out of her so quick and chaotic that I almost didn't understand it.

Almost.

"I'm saying it because I know you." My voice finally shattered, trying to ignore the fact that she knew about my feelings for her —feelings that probably were unrequited— at the same time as I struggled to prove she was wrong. "You're loving, kind-hearted, empathic, amazing, trustful, funny, and I also see your damn flaws alright? But that's- that's not the point."

"then what's the point?" she muttered, tired and hurt.

She was looking for something in particular in my next reply, but I didn't take the cue.

No, no I didn't catch what she was looking for, because my mind was buzzing way too loud, not allowing me to notice that Wanda had just realized I may have feelings for her, feelings that mirrored hers.

"the... The point is that you- I--" I gripped her hands tight, as if the thoughts I couldn't put into words could be sent to her mind by our touch. "the point is that I'm gonna fucking kill whoever said this to you, 'cause-- 'cause I'm-- this-"

I fixed my eyes on hers, and still didn't catch a glimpse of her sudden desire for me to finally put my feelings into those three words.

I didn't catch that, but I didn't come to the conclusion that there was only a way I could somehow show her how wrong she was.

I gave both her hands one last tug and my lips attacked hers, desperate for making the witch feel loved, desperate to prove she wasn't a monster.

Tears kept streaming down my face, instantly being aware of the high chances of her rejecting me, but a thought crossed my mind that gave me strength not to pull away and run.

If someone has to be broken, better be me because of a truth, than her because of an ugly lie.

The chaos in my head stopped me from noticing the sob of relief that came out of Wanda, muffled by my lips, along with her shaky fingers holding onto my shirt as if it was the end of the world.

She pulled away and I prepared myself for the worst, already letting go of her arm and cheek.

To my surprise, in her eyes I saw what I had missed during the kiss, and I also saw love and desire.

She didn't hesitate before closing the gap between us by holding the sides of my neck, letting one of her hands travel to my hair to tug it slightly the moment our mouths reunited.

My hands pulled her hips to mine and sat her down on my lap. "I love you too" she mumbled between hungry kisses, unconsciously rocking her hips to mines. "I... I love you..."

The grip on her hips tightened enough to bruise her while a moan or two left my lips. "Wanda... Wait" I made her stop and, after pecking her lips I pulled away. "I need a shower first."

She nodded but didn't leave her spot.

"Wanda?"

"can I shower with you?" she asked shyly, looking down at her lap.

"of course" I replied kiss her jaw with a half smile. "let's go alright?"

[4ever4lonew1dowsclu8]

Jealous - Alec Lightwood

A/N - Been busy with life but I’m back baby :D Hope this is everything you wanted and more <3

T/W - Adult themes, sexual assault

----------------------------------------------------------

“Come on Y/N! Keep up!” Your best friend Alec was stood in front of you, sweat glinting off his athletic form, a cheeky smirk on his face. You may have a slight crush on him but you weren’t gonna let him know that.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’. We can’t all be half-angel fitness buffs.” You knew you looked a mess, sweat on Alec looked hot, sweat on you made you look like a lumpy dumpling. Alec tried unsuccessfully to hide the smile that lit up his face.

The two of you were climbing to your secret treehouse. It was just outside of the city. It wasn’t really a treehouse, just a giant tree with a hole in it. Together, you had decked the hole out with blankets and pillows. Whenever things got too hectic at the Institute the two of you would escape to your hideout. 

Everyone had told you how Alec normally never mixed with mundanes but when you’d met him a year ago, after meeting him through Simon, he had been enamoured with your, what he called “sparky-ness”. He found Clary’s attitude grating but on you, he found it adorable. 

When you finally reached your little safe space, you stopped to catch your breath before laying out the picnic you’d packed at home. The two of you spent the next few hours just talking and laughing about anything and everything. 

The conversation turned to the topic of dating when an attractive runner gave Alec a suggestive up-down look. You joked about Alec ignoring them, suggesting that maybe he knew he didn’t have enough game. 

“I have more than enough game Sparky! You’re the one who hasn’t been on a single date since we met!”

You knew that it was true but you weren’t about to tell him that it was because he’d had your heart the moment you laid eyes on him.

“Yeah, well Simon set me up with one of the guys from Magnus’ apartment block, I’m going out with him tonight once we get back!”

You hadn’t meant to tell Alec unless things got serious but at that moment you wanted to make him jealous.

“We better not stick around here then, pack up and I’ll take you back so you can get ready.”

This was not the response you expected. You didn’t know what you expected but it definitely wasn’t acceptance. It almost felt like he was rushing to get you on this date. You watched as he started packing up the blanket and leftovers, your chest felt tight and your stomach dropped. 

“Yeah, I guess.” You sighed as you got up and dusted yourself off.

The walk back to the Institute was awkward, you didn’t know what to do, things had never been awkward. Several times you opened your mouth to talk but nothing seemed appropriate. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Alec do the same thing. Clary was waiting outside, a glint in her eye, obviously Simon had told her about your up-coming date. 

“A little birdy told me that you’re going out tonight!” She ran up and started dragging you inside. “Alec you can drop that stuff inside, I’m going to go get this goddess all dolled up.”

Alec just grunted in acknowledgement before sulking off to the kitchen. You turned to follow Clary, knowing that if you weren’t careful you’d end up tripping while she pulled you further inside. As you both entered your room, there was Isabelle, make-up brushes at the ready. You had helped both these girls get ready for dates in the past and now they were going to help you.

Despite being with two of your closest friends, you couldn’t muster any excitement as they offered different outfit choices. You saw Isabelle giving you a look, you’d never told her or Clary about your crush but you suspected they already knew. 

“Alright, sit on the bed.” You did as you were told. Clary climbed on behind you and started brushing and playing with your hair. “What’s wrong? Only this morning you were grinning away about this date and now it feels like we’re dressing you for your execution.”

Silence seemed like the only option. How could you explain that you were upset over her brother? Upset over a boy who you had no romantic connection with. It sounded stupid, even in your own head. Logic and reasoning was normally your strong suit. The hurt you were feeling was not logical. 

“It’s Alec isn’t it?” You couldn’t meet her intense gaze but you nodded none-the-less, there was no point trying to lie to Isabelle. “That idiot! What did he say? If he was mean to you, I swear I will beat him from here to London.”

You started to cry, prompting both girls to wrap their arms around you, both muttering about the unthinkable things they were going to do to Alec.

“No, no. It’s not that.” You managed to splutter out in between sniffs. “If anything, he was nice about it.”

Isabelle and Clary both looked very confused but didn’t say anything. Clary just continued to stroke your hair while Isabelle held your hands. You explained what had happened at the picnic, how you had wanted to make him jealous, how stupid and hurt you felt when he seemed indifferently accepting. As you talked Clary continued braiding your hair and was just tying it up by the time you’d finished rambling. Isabelle just looked thoughtful, nodding every so often to let you know that she was listening. There was a beat of silence while Isabelle decided what to say.

“Alec is my brother, but you are my friend, Y/N. I will not let the fact that he is my brother affect my advice. In all honesty, I always thought there was more than just friendship between you two, I knew you’d both figure it out eventually. Maybe it’s just taking Alec a little longer to figure it out.” There was a look in her eye you couldn’t quite place. “We’ll make him realise what he’s missing out on.”

With a sly little smile, Isabelle got to work.

An hour later and you had been pushed and pulled into a person that you barely recognised. The dress you were wearing was one of your favourites, a white skater dress with cute bell sleeves. Nothing too extreme, the dress gave a gentle angelic vibe that made it seem like you were glowing. The make-up highlighted your eyes, framing them with a thin black line. A soft pink lipstick turned your lips into a perfect little rose. Isabelle and Clary nodded in appreciation, a little self-serving but you couldn’t help but smile at your two best friends. 

“If my idiot brother doesn’t take right there on the dining room table, then I will.” Isabelle threw you a cheeky little wink, which made you and Clary giggle. 

This was it. You were all dressed up and now you had somewhere to go, and it was terrifying. What if Alec didn’t care? You took a deep breath and steadied yourself before walking out to the main living area. 

“Good luck!” A chorus of well-wishes followed you out the door. 

You knew Alec would most likely be sat with the boys so you lifted your head a little, stuck out your chest and swayed from side to side. As you entered the room, you heard the appreciative murmurs from Simon and Jace, you smiled slightly and flicked your hair, enjoying the attention.

“Whatever.” You looked over to see Alec intently staring at the TV. Simon had obviously tried to get his attention, but he wasn’t interested. Like that, your chest deflated and your face dropped. How could he not care? 

“I guess I’ll see you guys later, I guess.” You gave a small wave and turned quickly to make sure they didn’t see the tears in your eyes.

It was only going for a few drinks, you didn’t have to stay for long so you tried to muster a little enthusiasm for the guy standing in front of you. He was relatively attractive, you had to admit he was exactly your type and Simon had made a good choice, but he wasn’t Alec. 

A few drinks in and you felt your face flush, the guy had put his hand on your leg, he had told you his name but you hadn’t cared enough to listen. He took the lack of protest as a sign of encouragement, inching his hand higher to under your skirt. You swayed on your seat and leant towards him, hoping leaning against him would stop the spinning. It didn’t feel like you’d had too many drinks but the room was blurry and you struggled to keep yourself upright. His breath felt too warm and too close for comfort, his hand on your thigh got tighter and suddenly you didn’t feel very safe. 

“I wanna go home.” It took a lot of effort but you managed to get out those few words. “Take me home please.”

You hated how quiet and weak you sounded. He stood, putting his arm around your waist to keep you steady. While you appreciated the support, it made you feel uneasy. The walk back to the institute was slow and filled with not so subtle “accidental” grabs. 

The big doors soon came into focus and they’d never looked so good. The walk home had helped to clear your head slightly, your mouth still felt very dry, but that was probably just the nerves. 

“This is me. Thank you for walking me home.” You stopped and turned to face your date. He took a step closer. You stepped back and were horrified to feel the iron of the door handle press into your back. 

“Aren’t you going to let me inside?” His hands migrated south from your waist. You gasped when he grasped your backside. 

“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You heard the stutter is your voice, you didn’t sound very convincing.

“You didn’t say no when I felt you up earlier. Your such a little tease.” One hand uncupped one of your cheeks and moved up to brush your hair from your face. He slowly pushed down one of your sleeves, exposing your bare shoulder. 

“Please don’t.” Fear filled your voice. Your legs shook, fear mixed with alcohol was making standing a difficult task. 

“I’m not asking.” His leg pushed between yours. Suddenly, the dress that made you feel so confident earlier made you feel open and exposed. One hand pushed your body into his while the other pulled your mouth forward.

You couldn’t let this happen, your first time wouldn’t be with some creep! Adrenaline filled your body. You turned your head just as his lips connected with yours, smudging your lipstick but you didn’t care. Using all the strength you had left you pushed him away, turned, opened the door and snuck inside before he could realise what had happened. 

You leant against the door, your head was still spinning but the cool wood helped. You kept your eyes closed while you caught your breath. You were glad it was late and everyone was in bed, this was humiliating. 

“He was that good was he?” You spun round to see Simon with a smug grin on his face. 

Alec was stood behind him, a face like thunder. That face was enough to sober you up entirely. You thought about how this probably looked, face flushed, heavy breathing, clothes coming off and lipstick smudged. The thought of what you just escaped hit you and before you could stop it, tears filled your eyes and you collapsed to the floor. 

Two strong arms engulfed you. You knew it was only Alec but you couldn’t help but flinch and push them away. Alec looked hurt and confused as you shuffled further away.

“What happened Y/N?” Simon was stood watching you. Alec tried to reach out to you again. You flinched when his hand touched your arm but you didn’t move it away.

You hiccuped and sobbed your way through the story. Alec’s rough yet gentle thumb gentle brushed your arm.  Even though you were horrified he saw you like this, he was still your best friend and his touch made you feel better. He didn’t say anything while you talked but you could tell he wasn’t happy. The thought that your best friend was angry at you caused the waterworks to double.

“I’m so sorry Alec. I was so stupid. I wanted to make you jealous and I lead that guy on and I’m so sorry. Please don’t be angry at me!” You threw yourself into his chest, not really realising what you just said. 

You turned your head to see Simon slowly edging out of the room. 

“I’ll give you guys some space.” 

It took a second for Simon’s words to make sense. You paled when you realised what you just said, you turned your head and buried it further into Alec’s chest, hoping that his silence meant he hadn’t heard.

“You wanted to make me jealous?” You felt the chuckle in his voice rumble through his chest.

“Don’t laugh!” His laughter hurt and made you angry. You pushed yourself away and turned your back on him.

“I’m such an idiot” He chuckled slightly.

“Hey! I am not!... Wait, what did you just say? Why are you an idiot?” You spun to confront Alec before you fully registered what he said.

“I’m an idiot because I was trying to make you jealous by being distant. I didn’t even think that it might have the opposite effect.” You stared at Alec, waiting for him to tell you he was just messing with you. Expecting him to make a horrible joke about how silly you were for liking him. But it didn’t happen.

You both stared, measuring the reactions of the other. Neither one of you wanted to be the first to break the silence. After what felt an hour you decided to take the plunge.

“So what? Does that mean you like me, like, like like me?” You felt like a child again.

Alec chuckled softly, brushing your cheek gently.

“Yes, I like like you.”

“Now what do we do?”

Alec pulled you towards him, encasing you with his arms and placing his chin on your head.

“Well, I’m going to put you to bed because you need it. Then tomorrow, how about we go get pancakes for breakfast.” That sounded perfect, you nodded against his chest. “This doesn’t have to be a sudden change, we can go on dates, take it nice and slow. We’re best friends and that doesn’t need to change.”

You felt so safe in his arms, you let your eyes close, enjoying the silence. Before you fully fell asleep, you heard Alec softly humming to himself while he rubbed your back. 

[thedistantstorm]

Project Compass 13

Read Along on AO3 Here

<< Previous Chapter << >> Next Chapter >>

This time: Ezra experiences a sympathetic vision. Thrawn has had enough.

Next Time: Ivant and Un’hee and data that could change everything.

-/

The glass Ezra was holding slipped from his hand and shattered on the marble tile, water splashing everywhere. Not more than five seconds later, Thrawn came through his door, as if expecting there to be enemies surrounding him on all sides. When there were not, he stopped his advance. Ezra stood completely still, palm and fingers curled as though he were holding the glass broken on the floor.

“Bridger?”

He didn’t move, didn’t seem to hear Thrawn speaking. Thrawn took another step forward, and the sound of his feet against the tile made Ezra jerk, then crumple. Thrawn darted towards the Jedi, grabbing him before he could bash his head on the marbled floor.

“Ezra, answer me,” Thrawn commanded, voice crisp and icy. He shook the young man, watching as his eyelids fluttered. His body seemed to have broken out in a cold sweat, his entire body seeming to draw tight and fearful, as if expecting blows. “Ezra!”

An attendant appeared in the doorway behind them, likely also hearing the commotion. “Sir-”

Blue eyes blinked open, holding Thrawn’s glowing gaze with obvious effort. His eyes were trying to roll back as he spoke. “He’s after you,” Ezra said with a body-wide shudder. “They knew about it. They want...”

“Who?”

“I heard it,” He murmured, losing the fight to remain conscious. “Your brother-” He started to say, before going limp. Thrawn exhaled, considering the similarities between Navigators and Jedi. He’d never seen a Jedi have a vision - apparently it wasn’t exceedingly common amongst Jedi - but if his thoughts were correct, there was only one Ezra’Bridger could be this unconsciously afraid of.

He rose with Ezra in his arms, giving the woman who had responded a cool glance. “Is Thrass in his office at present?”

“Sir, I don’t-”

“Is he?” Thrawn snarled, more of a command to answer than a question. The woman snapped her mouth shut and nodded once. “Clean this mess,” He indicated of the glass.

“And the human?”

Thrawn’s tone was acerbic. “Certainly there are other guest quarters in this monstrosity of a home, yes?”

-/

“Still, the emperor wants him alive,” Ar’alani said. She stroked her chin. “Based on the information we’ve received Karyn Faro, we know that the Empire is not strictly winning their war with the rebels. The Grysk, however, likely do not.”

“That he’s wanted alive says something,” Thrass agreed.

“He was the best commander in the Imperial Navy,” Captain Ivant murmured. “Everyone knew it, they were just a bunch of Xenophobes. Thrawn had plans to defeat the insurgents without the use of their superweapon. If they don’t have another plan - hell, even if they did,” He mused, “Thrawn would be Palpatine’s best option to stomp out the rebellion.”

“And what of his offer to help the Grysk defeat us, Captain?” Thrass’s gaze lingered on him, waiting for what would be their most informed response.

“It’s a possibility. They’re a lot alike,” Ivant supposed. “Maybe they’d team up as long as it took to defeat and enslave us - killing us would be too kind,” He mused morbidly. “But they’d eventually turn on each other. The question is how much of the galaxy they’d wreck in the process.”

“It is not a possibility we can entertain. Not in any capacity,” Vah’nya said firmly. “I do not wish-”

A firm knock on the door gave them all pause. Thrass frowned. That was not the knock of an attendant. Nor would any attendant bother the head of house in the midst of such a meeting without fearing for their job, but more importantly Thrass’s ire. No, it could only be one person.

“Brother,” Thrawn growled, voice raised. “Open this door.”

“Well, this is about to get interesting,” Thrass said mildly. “Would anyone like a drink before I let him in?”

“We cannot-”

“Do you think he’s going to leave, Admiral?” Thrass made a face as he spoke. “What’s wrong? Did your pet Jedi have a meltdown?”

Vah’nya closed her eyes, seeming to focus. Her breath caught. “Yes, that’s right, he did,” She said softly to Ar’alani. “I should have considered this. He’s spoken of the Emperor to me. Mitth’raw’nuruodo-”

More banging, far more insistent this time came at the door. Thrass continued to pour his glass higher than was socially acceptable, then kept the bottle in hand as he made his way to the door. “You’re making a scene,” The elder brother threw his voice as he stopped in front of Vanto, pouring the human more. “Calm yourself or I will leave you out there to carry on.”

“You will do no such thing,” Thrawn intoned harshly. “I know-”

Thrass threw the door open before he could continue, not willing to risk whatever confidential item his younger brother had no-doubt uncovered. Thrawn’s eyes flashed in visible fury. To his left and right, but several paces back, stood all of the attendants that serviced the wing. He nodded to them politely, ignoring his brother for the moment in lieu of handing the closest one the empty bottle. “Take that for me please,” He said, almost kindly. “You’ll have to forgive my brother. He’s having a time.”

“Mitth’ras’safis.”

“What?” Thrass tipped his head down, as if the centimeter and a half he had on his sibling was a far greater height. “You wished to be allowed in and I am doing so, against my better judgement.” He stepped back and beckoned Thrawn. Once Thrawn had two steps into the office, Thrass closed the door behind him.

Vah’nya stood, turning to face Thrawn. “Is Ezra alright?”

“Go to him, Navigator,” Ar’alani instructed when Thrawn stared her down in response. “We will be fine here.”

Vah’nya looked just to the right of Thrawn’s left shoulder, where Ivant stood. He gave a nearly imperceptible nod. “Listen to the Admiral,” Ivant said. “It’s fine.”

The Navigator could tell there was an icy - and likely cruel - retort on Thrawn’s tongue. She’d never seen him truly angry before. Though, she considered, perhaps that wasn’t the best word to describe him. There were other things that afflicted him. Anger was a good mask for them. Most others might not see through him, but those gathered in this room did not need the gift of Sight to see through Mitth’raw’nuruodo’s facade. She dipped her head to him and left without another word, grateful to slip away from the hostile tension that gripped the syndic’s office.

“Sit,” Thrass bid his brother, indicating the seat the Navigator had left. “You’ve made enough of a scene.”

Thrawn did not. “The Jedi just had a vision in of a plot involving the Emperor-”

“Sit down,” Thrass’s voice was clipped. “Please,” He added tensely.

“-and all of you knew of it.” He turned to face Ivant last. There was no indication of his plans to heed his brother’s request.

The human crossed his arms and stared him down. “We just played the recording,” Ar’alani said, drawing his attention. “If the Emperor is as powerful of a sorcerer as the Jedi proclaims-”

“None of you have any idea of the Emperor’s supposed power,” Thrawn said, voice sharp and full of icy disdain. He looked back to Ivant. “Not in the way I do.”

“So we’re supposed to tell you everything?” Ivant asked.

“It is to do with me, is it not?”

“It’s to do with the entire Ascendancy.” Ivant pressed, stern. “Hard pressed as it may be to hear, Mitth’raw’nuruodo, this is not about you.”

“On the contrary,” Thrawn said, levying the full weight of his gaze at the Captain, sharp and bitter, “I know for certain it is.”

“How so?”

“The Emperor will want me back. He is losing the war, is he not?” He looked briefly at Ar’alani and Thrass, then focused the whole of his attention on Ivant. “I achieved unrivaled results.”

“Would you like to go back?” Ar’alani asked him. “It didn’t seem to be your desire when we finally retrieved you. It might upset your Jedi friend.”

“I do not wish to serve Emperor Palpatine. I wish to serve the Ascendancy,” Thrawn growled. “A task I am hardly doing at present,” He added, fighting for control over each and every word.

“And for good reason,” Thrass interjected. “You’ve practically come unhinged, brother.” He motioned to Thrawn, indicating he should consider his appearance, both physical and mental. “And these are not exactly peacetimes, as I’m sure you’ve realized.”

“Unhinged? I am one of few who understands the dangers we face in their entirety.”

Ar’alani exchanged a meaningful glance with Ivant before rising. “Syndic.”

“What?” Thrass snapped, never breaking the heated glare he exchanged with Thrawn. It had been two decades too long. Thrawn needed to be put in his place, and he had absolutely no problem doing so.

Ivant opened the door to the hallway. “Let me handle this,” He said.

Thrawn straightened more, looming as he faced the human. “Now you wish to speak with me, El’ivan’to?” He drawled the Wild Space native’s name with the Chiss pronunciation. Whether it was meant to bait the Captain went unsaid, but Vanto didn’t so much as flinch under pressure.

“You are making a fool of yourself,” Thrass said, then regarded Ivant, warning him, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Ivant didn’t look terribly bothered. In fact, his face remained expressionless, his eyes hard. “It’s fine. This is a long time coming, I think.” He motioned to the door. “Syndic, Admiral, if you would.”

Ar’alani nodded. “We should check on the Jedi as well, seeing that we are to blame for triggering him unnecessarily.”

They cleared out, Thrass giving Ivant a lingering look as if to say it was his funeral if he chose to invoke his brother’s rage alone. But Thrass forgot that Thrawn was not some unknown beast to him. This might be the closest he’d ever seen the Chiss to angry, but he knew better. This volatile mood wasn’t one single emotion. It was a build-up of many emotions and situations. Thrawn had been forced to spend the majority of his time with beings less than half his age for months, trying to reassimilate to a culture and people that had changed drastically since he’d left. This was good, Ivant thought, squaring his shoulders and pushing himself up from his casual lean against the wall. It was about time Thrawn expressed something. Anything, really.

“We aren’t the people we used to be,” Ivant told him, when the door snicked shut and they were truly alone. It was the only indication Ivant had given to show he recalled the conversation they’d had weeks ago, in Thrawn and Ezra’s shared quarters. The Captain gestured to the space between them, looking almost… unimpressed. “Start talking.”

Thrawn smiled. It was predatory. Eli remembered this and braced for the inevitable, conversationally unrelated question he suspected would come. And it did. “What is Project Compass?”

Ivant laughed. Then, he switched to Basic and said, “It’s everything you sent me to the Ascendancy to achieve, Sir,” He drawled, provoking the Chiss with the same tactic he’d tried on Vanto no more than minutes earlier. His eyebrows went up, however, inviting further questioning. Welcoming it, even. “It’s hardly a secret.”

Thrawn didn’t bite. With his usual calm clicking into place he queried, “Is it not? The Navigators seem to think so.”

“I’m sure. We select and study candidates of the highest aptitude, when it comes to their abilities. It’s a bit easier to get them to acquiesce to tests when you explain to them they’re of far higher ability and importance than their colleagues.”

“You lie, Captain.” Thrawn’s voice dipped in something that might be disappointment, if it wasn’t undercut with barely restrained fury. Ivant watched Thrawn attempt to work it out, studying his own motions, his breaths, his face and chest for discrepancies. He knew there were none. If he were the person he had once been, he knew being able to go toe to toe with Thrawn would have been a proud moment, would have left warm satisfaction curling in his gut. Now, he hardly gave it a thought. Still, anyway, Thrawn protested, “Your eyes give you away.”

“They don’t,” Ivant replied, his face blank as if he didn’t care one way or another if Thrawn believed him or not. He was just as capable of redirection as Thrawn was, but he knew better than to draw it out and risk a miscalculation. He didn’t underestimate Thrawn, even in a state like this. So, he opted not to meander around the point, and instead told the truth. “The Grysk tortured that out of me.”

It was a low blow. Lower than any the once-Imperial Eli Vanto ever struck. Thrawn reeled from it, caught spectacularly unaware. There was no witty comeback, no continued assault from the Captain. He stood still, assessing Thrawn silently without so much as an indication of his intent, no emotion crossing his face. It proved his point. Thrawn couldn’t read him.

And it made Thrawn sick to his stomach, revulsion and self hatred flaring through every synapse. It had been because of him, the Navigators had informed Ezra. But it was more than that. His choices had put this man here. And he had to bear the consequences of that. He was responsible for making this man what he’d become and for all his suffering along that path.

“Stop that.” Ivant said after a moment, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of Thrass’s desk. He took the one Vah’nya had left and waited for Thrawn to take the other to his left. “You’re not some god, you know.” He raised the glass of whiskey to his lips and took a pull of the drink, then set it down decidedly to the right of the coaster Thrass had set out for exactly that purpose. “This ain’t all on you.” Thrawn looked at the tumblr for a moment, but then the Captain spoke again, drawing his gaze. “Is Project Compass really what you want to know about?”

Thrawn considered saying yes. He did wish to know what Ar’alani’s plan was, what this project was that a non-Chiss was obviously so instrumental in achieving. But that was information he could get from other sources. Vanto’s words rang in his head. They really weren’t the same people they had been, before.

“Was,” Thrawn paused. Considered. He wondered just how Vanto saw him in this moment, but knew that in this instance, pride could not matter. “Was I to blame for your capture?”

Ivant leaned back in his seat. He picked up his glass, studying it. “Abstractly, you could say so, yes.” He shrugged. “You were among the reasons I took the mission in the first place.”

“You were aware of what I did. My actions-” He frowned. “I do not understand.”

Ivant met his gaze, choosing not to comment about the mixed feelings he saw there. “The way I see it, the Emperor forced your hand. He was just as xenophobic as the rest of the Empire, you were too smart for your own good, and you were loyal to your own people, first. He was paranoid, and you flagged yourself as an enemy. He burns through an awful lot of allies for a man trying to expand his empire.”

“If not the Chiss, the Grysk,” He mused. Like pawns in a game of galactic chess. “They believed you knew where I was,” Thrawn realized, seeing the connection. “You knew they would capture you.”

“I did know,” Ivant confirmed. “But they suspected Vah’nya had the information instead of me. I’m just a hireling, remember? I thought you sent me here because I was good at math.”

“Then why-”

“She didn’t have the information to give them. Only two people knew where you were. The Admiral, and myself. She took the fleet on the course you were on, and I made it known I was attempting to rescue you on a mirror of that path.” He smirked. “It was a good plan. By the time they figured out I was the one with the information, they’d shown me all their cards and the fleet was in the wind.” He shook his head.

“I was not worth that.”

The captain dispelled the thought. “It wasn’t just for you. There were plenty of good men and women we served with aboard the Chimaera. Good people who deserved to live.”

“Good people who will never know who saved them,” Thrawn said. “The Grysk would have slaughtered at least half of them, and enslaved the rest.”

“I don’t need the recognition,” Ivant said. He steered the conversation back on course, revealing, “The Emperor promised the Grysk a reward for capturing you and bringing you back to the Empire. Aid,” He revealed, “To defeat the Chiss.”

“Then, or now?”

“Both.” Ivant tapped the pocket he’d put the datacard in. “We found this transmission on the ship Ar’alani took with help from Bridger. They want to break you. The Emperor’s power is strong, of that there is no doubt. The Navigators dream of him from time to time.” He shook his head. “But he is not invincible or absolute. And you will not be going back, even if you wanted to.”

“I do not.”

“I know that, Mitth’raw’nuruodo.”

“Thrawn,” The Chiss said. “I would prefer it if you called me Thrawn.”

“As you wish.” Ivant’s gaze narrowed, his brown eyes searching Thrawn’s for something. If he found it, Thrawn couldn’t be sure. His voice was cool, but not unkind. “We are on the precipice of civil war,” He said, and Thrawn didn’t have time to think about the way Vanto considered himself a Chiss, the way he so naturally said ‘we.’ “I realize you wish to be in command, and frankly, I don’t blame you. But there is a reason for the Admiral’s decision to keep you assigned to Bridger. She and I expect you to honor that assignment.”

“As you said,” Thrawn interjected. “We are not who we were before.” It wasn’t a true acknowledgement, hardly a guarantee that Thrawn would not revolt against the decisions of his superiors, but it would have to do.

“No. We are not,” Ivant agreed, his voice fierce and earnest. Once again, he held Thrawn’s gaze. “We have to be better.”

Thrawn’s breath caught in his throat, the wardrum that was his heartbeat seeming to thunder in his chest, faster than before. He realized, possibly for the first time, that Eli Vanto was speaking to him as an equal. And he was, unlike any who had come before, Thrawn thought. Vanto had evolved beyond Thrawn’s wildest expectations and hopes. He had come here of his own choosing. Had made difficult choices and persevered on his own merit. Had proven everyone who ever doubted him wrong.

And, Thrawn realized suddenly, sharply and of his own volition: He was in love with this man. It was not some pandering thought of an overly-attached Jedi, nor the convoluted plot pushed upon him by scheming Navigators. Truly, he was in love with Eli Vanto. He wanted to get to know this man better, wanted to understand him down to his most minute elements. Flesh and bone, heart and soul.