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generalsdiary · 1 year ago

Text

a stupid bet

gn!reader x Dr. Ratio

part two here

warnings: suggestive themes, kissing, cursing (?)

word count: 10k~

a/n: I don't know which demon possessed me to write a 10k fic about a character that isn't playable yet, istg I need help (the worst thing is I could've written even more, send help + if he is ooc mb he isn't out yet), not beta read (we die like Cocolia), Kavetham's son has me in a chokehold

description: you accept to do a bet to lighten up Dr. Ratio, one of your work colleagues and also a rival, you're not too fond of each other. things take a sharp turn when you do something quite haste to win the bet (could come off as a slower burn fic, rivals to something more?)

It was a bet. Your coworkers were certain no one could do, especially not you but now it fell onto you. To lighten him up.

Rivals of years, you and Veritas Ratio disliked each other for a long time. For some dumb reason, you were stern on doing this bet, the group of them and you stood to the side and you observed him, the way he stood next to his desk with a neutral expression on his face. Knowing your usual relationship, you were doomed to fail so your mind went to at least making him surprised. That should count to something, right?

It is past saving when you walk towards him. "Thought you could help me a bit."

He sighs, already annoyed at you. "What is it?"

Rather clumsily you point to his cheek, no idea what you should do.

He looked at his cheek, then back to you. Your pointing and leaning made him even more annoyed than he already was — he found it amusing that this was your idea of humor.

"Ah, the other one" You try to save yourself

Another sigh. Another glance. There was nothing on the other one either.

"You can't see it-" You mention.

He squints his eyes at you. He doesn't have time for your games. "Why don't you tell me what I'm supposed to see then."

"A crumb," you say simply. "Shall I?" Digging your grave deeper.

He raises a brow. He knew you had a big ego, but he was honestly surprised you really thought he would fall for this. “Sure, go ahead.”

In hopes this would at least catch him off guard, you reach with your hand to move the imaginary crumb, your fingers caressing his cheek and then pulling him in for a kiss.

His eyes widen, surprised, his heartbeat quickening, while he finds you irritating... he also finds you attractive. for some reason.. the kiss continues for a bit, his breath coming out in short gasps. you weren't expecting it to work.

Now you pull back, he is stunned, maybe a tad less irritated at you. You two stare at each other for a moment. The only noise is your heavy breathing, and something is cooking below the surface.

He stares at you for a bit longer, breath coming out in short gasps, as he processes what happened. Then he breaks the stare, his eyes scanning the area — some of your coworkers were watching, and probably laughing. But he didn’t care. At least... he didn’t want to care. He wanted to focus on you. Your eyes met his again, and you could see the blush still present on his cheeks, the warm look in his eyes.

You feel confused in this moment, what are these... feelings... you mentally shrug them off. "uhm... I gotta go-" You walk over to the co-workers to see if this counts as winning the bet. As you turned to walk over to the observing co-workers, you could sense that his eyes were still watching you.

The acquaintances agreed that you won the bet. But found your way of achieving that interesting, especially since you two dislike each other. They leave and, the space is empty when you return to reading some papers.

After you’ve left, he spends a few moments pondering the event, and then, in an impulsive decision, he decides he wants to find you again. It wasn’t just the bet that he became, later on, aware of, or his wounded ego, that had him wanting to seek you out; he was intrigued by this newfound interaction. He wants to see where it leads.

He finds you sitting at a table. When you notice him approaching, you can feel the gaze of your coworkers. As he reaches you, you can feel their eyes still on you; there are some giggles and laughs in the background. When he speaks, his voice is a tad low. He also appears to be a bit timid, which isn’t the usual for him: “..May I join you?”

"What is it, Veritas?" Your voice was cold, and you look up at him.

He swallows, then glances at some of your co-workers. “I…” Your coworkers are still observing you with curiosity, so he lowers his voice while not looking at them. “... want to talk. To you.”

"We are talking," you say back, your gaze on the papers in your hands. You're dismissive towards him.

He hesitates but pushes on with his request, still keeping his voice low. “.. I want to talk to you in private.”

"Do we have anything to talk about?" you scoff, deeply ignoring the way it felt to kiss him. Chasing those thoughts away. You could see his face change to a microexpression you just about missed as he realized you hadn’t yet picked up on what he hoped for.

“You and I, we..” He hesitates to continue. You’d always been so formal, or irritating, with him. "we.. don’t get along.. usually.”

"We don't. So, leave? Why would we go talk in private?" you say. You knew this was about the bet. This was about the kiss - you chase those thoughts away, no. You will not think about not even for a second how soft- no. Stop. You return to reality. He is talking.

A moment of his hesitation. He lets out a small sigh before speaking again. “...We don’t get along, that’s correct. But..” He gestures to the observers and the whispers and giggles you can still hear in the background.

“...I think we should still talk privately.”

You sigh as well, rolling your eyes, finding his persistent attitude annoying. You stand up from your desk. "Lead the way, Doctor Ratio."

He smiles a bit at your response, and you can feel some hint of amusement.

He turns to lead you away from the others, turning a corner. Just as you begin to turn the corner you hear the observing coworkers make another comment; a girl says something about shipping.

"Private enough"? You ask after walking for a bit, looking around the empty hallway. it isn't a busy one usually.

He stops walking as you do, then looks at you for a moment. Your sarcasm is amusing him. He smiles at you, thinking of what to say. Then he begins to speak, and his facial expression is more relaxed than normal. “...I want to ask you something.”

"Ask." You sigh "What is it, Veritas?"

You could notice your words and attitude irking him, but, surprisingly, you could see him actually relaxing more as he spoke, a smile still plastered on his face. “...What is it that makes us dislike each other so much?”

You quickly answer. "We are both full of ourselves, intelligent, arrogant, and have zero patience for idiots. Is this why you wanted to talk in private- you're wasting my time, Veritas"

That response got a chuckle out of him, and you could tell he agreed with you, based on the way he nodded. A silence falls between you two, and then the silence is broken by him.. “...Have you ever wondered, as much as we are alike... how much we’re also different?” What a nonsensical question.

You are tired of him beating around the bush, so you decide to bring it up. "If this is about the bet- just- you're wasting my time"

Your dismissive attitude made him chuckle as you spoke. He thought about your statement. While the bet was an excuse to talk to you again, he had genuine thoughts in mind. Although, he didn’t let it show. “... It’s not about the bet. I just wanted to talk..”

"Why?"

You could sense the faintest hint of embarrassment in his voice, but otherwise, his expression was relaxed and casual. He says, “... Because I want to get to know you.”

You feel stunned, "...why?" Finding it strange he'd want anything to do with you.

That was the reaction he wanted. Your eyes were wide open, and you were surprised. He kept staring at you. He was aware of how ridiculous this might sound, but he meant it. He wants to know you. He found you irritating, yes, but there was something about you he wanted to explore more.

You shook your head gently, confused. "Veritas- what? Is this because of the-"

He sighs. “..The kiss? No. Yes, it made me think of you differently. But not in the way you seem to think.” He keeps his gaze on you. “The kiss made me realize I want to know you.”

"Why- what do you mean-" you stumbled over your sentences, unlike him. "Veritas- it is obvious you kissed back, no reason to" small exhale, since you were talking too fast "get to know me"

A small smirk appeared at the corners of his lips. “I kissed back, it’s true. But let me ask you something...”

He stares at you for a moment. "What did you feel when we kissed?"

You deadpan. "My emotions aren't your business.“ then you straight up lie. „-only hoping to win the bet.“-

He can’t help but chuckle. You lied, and he knew it; he could just tell from the way you spoke.

He keeps looking at you, the smile still present on his face.

“Do you think I believe it? I doubt you felt nothing while we kissed.”

„Doubt all you freaking want, Veritas“ you roll your eyes, „you can't prove shit“

He looks at you still, grinning now. You can see the amusement in his eyes, and the way he is staring, as if he’s seeing you for the very first time. “You’re right. I can’t prove you felt anything. All I have is my intuition. And my intuition says that you’re lying."

"You can't prove it." you cross your arms across your chest. "Stop these accusations and your 'intuition' is wrong." You sound arrogant, and dismissive, trying to wiggle your way out of the conversation.

He chuckles once more, then he speaks, a bit more directly this time. “My intuition has never done me wrong. You can keep on denying it, acting arrogant—and that’s fine. But I bet you anything that, if I were to kiss you again, a second time, you would kiss me back. Just as passionately as the first time."

"You were the one to kiss passionately the first and only time we kissed." you shake your head "Veritas this is a waste of time- you want to 'get to know' me, oh please" gesturing with your hand.

Even as you speak, he is still laughing. He could tell your pride is wounded.

He keeps a straight, smug face. His words carry no arrogance, but the way he speaks has enough confidence for both of you. “...Then let me prove it to you. Just let me kiss you again.”

You are quiet for a moment too long because you are surprised at his suggestion, and refuse to think again about- "no."

He knows he’s caught you off guard. Your silence is an answer itself. One that just gives him more confidence. He smirks.

„...Afraid?”

„I am a scientist like you, I am not afraid. I kissed you in the first hand. I don't need to prove anything“

He chuckles. “You’re absolutely right, you don’t need to prove anything. Except you kissed me for the sake of a bet. But I kissed you for the sake of understanding you.” He’s still smirking he is planning something, but he keeps his gaze on you. “..And I bet the kiss meant more for you than you care to admit.” There's a knowing look in his eyes.

"You didn't kiss me, why are you talking in the past tense?" you scoff when he attempts to change the situation around.

He raises his brow, slightly impressed, and shrugs. “..Alright, you’re right. Let me change that.”

Without breaking eye contact, he reaches out and pulls your face toward his. You could feel his warm breath on your face as he stared at you for a second or two, and just when it felt as though he would actually kiss you again. Completely surprised you gasp at the sudden proximity.

You can tell he’s enjoying the moment, since he leans in just a tad more, just enough for your lips to almost touch; his breath is hot and heavy, and his eyes still keep locking with yours as he waits.

It takes you a moment to place your hands on his chest and push him away. "Veritas, stop these foolish actions." You feel flustered at his advances.

He lets out an amused chuckle and steps slightly away. Though he has stopped his action, he is still smiling—which he knows is annoying for you to see. He still has a smirk and speaks. “..Do you think this was foolish of me?” There's something calculated in his voice.

"You won't prove anything and the one and only kiss that happened happened cos of the bet. Nothing more"

He keeps his smirk. “..Then how do you explain the chemistry between us? It’s all there, whether you’d like to admit it or not.” The neverending banter between the two scientists continues, both two proud to be that vulnerable with the other or to even take the other seriously.

"Screw chemistry. We dislike each other. And you pulled me away from my work to chat privately 'cos you wish to get to know me better? And now you wanna prove to me that I'm wrong by wanting to kiss me again? waste of my time-" you puff, you didn't even get a chance to think about the kiss today, and this isn't the moment to think about that. You can see the smirk fall for a second when you begin speaking, but then he smiles again. There is clearly something you aren't telling him.

He listens to your rant, and it only furthers his conviction. “..I agree, we do dislike each other. But that doesn't mean there can't be anything else. There are layers to dislike, and to liking someone.” He pauses. “..I want to see those layers.”

You roll your eyes „What I felt during the kiss is hope to win the bet that's it.“

He chuckles and speaks right away. “...Fine, I'll pretend to believe you, and not the way your face flushes as you speak. I'll pretend I don't feel the tension between us. And, I'll pretend that I don't want to kiss you again.” He takes a step forward and leans in again. “..And if you’re sure you didn't feel anything, then you shouldn’t care if I kiss you again. Because then, there's nothing to hide, right?”

"Well- no- maybe I don't want to be touched or something" you sigh, your brain just now processing the information. "you want to kiss me again?" the soft blush creeps up your cheeks. He wants to kiss you again? You don't know what to think, or feel about that, and this isn't the time to process that either.

His smirk grew as you spoke. “Or, maybe you don’t want to be touched because you’ll feel something. If there’s nothing to hide, then there’s nothing to refuse. Just let me kiss you once more, just to prove that you’re lying to me.”

„I'm not lying.“ You crossed your arms.

He smirks once more, and a hint of satisfaction crosses his face.

“Then let me kiss you. Why refuse, if you believe that all it was is only a bet? I want to kiss you to prove you are lying about not caring about the kiss. I want to kiss you to prove you are lying when you claim to have felt nothing, that it didn't feel good. So it isn’t about winning, isn’t it..? It’s about you being embarrassed at how much the kiss felt good to you.”

„Why are you so needy about wanting to kiss me- we dislike each other-„ you hush your voice as a coworker passes by, you two were still standing in the hallway. „-and no point for me to kiss you to prove a point. I'm above that.“

He follows your movement and lowers his voice to match yours. “...The reason I’m so adamant about wanting this kiss, is because I think we’ll have a revelation. I know we dislike each other, but..” He pauses for a moment. “...But there’s more to us than that. So come on, if you don’t have anything to hide, kiss me again. No one else is watching.”

„No“ you stand your ground „I don't need to prove it, Veritas“ Your pride wouldn't let you do anything less than stand your ground.

He chuckles at your stubbornness. “...I have to give you credit for that, it’s admirable. But I’ll keep on trying until it works.” Still keeping his voice low, he speaks once more. “...Kiss me. Please.”

He sees your stern gaze falter when he asks so blatantly and also says please.

„My emotions during what I did for the bet are none of your business-„ Your voice getting hushed as another coworker passes by „-Veritas.“

He takes that small sign of weakness and uses it as an advantage, leaning towards you a bit. His breath is still hot on your face, and you can see his smirk grow wider. He speaks, with an amused, almost teasing tone of voice. “..Are you refusing to kiss me so adamantly because you might actually enjoy it? Because you have emotions you don’t want me to know about?”

You sigh. „Veritas- cmon, this is pointless at this point.“

He keeps leaning closer to you, and he speaks while still teasing you. “..Well, you keep denying everything I said about you. You keep insisting that you only kissed me for the bet. So then, prove it and kiss me again—and feel nothing. Prove it right now.”

„I'm tired of this, Veritas.“ you sigh. Even in your apparent exhaustion, he feels the tension in your voice, the small crackle of doubt and curiosity in your words. Again, he speaks as he keeps leaning in, his breath still hot on your face.

“...Just one more kiss. To prove you're telling the truth. Then nothing else.”

„To shut you up, fine“ When your lips meet, you are doing your best to not move them in the beginning, to not touch him, and to stay fully still.

And you do, at first, stay fully still. Your lips are warm, and you can feel him leaning in more and more, but you refuse to do anything in return.

After some time, however, you feel a shift. With his movements, he’s now coaxing you. He pulls you towards him a bit more, his breath is still warm, and he’s now kissing you, softly but passionately, as he wants you to kiss back... He notices how you aren't budging putting on a good performance of not feeling anything. He wants to see more of a response, and he begins to nudge you to see how you would react. He places his hands on either side of your face and continues the kiss. He wants to see you lose control, instead of being this disciplined. He wants you to feel passion.

His hands actually touching your face almost makes you lose your focus, but not quite. He can feel you start to crack under pressure. It’s almost cute to watch you struggle. He decides to test his theory; he begins pulling you against himself, your bodies now pressed against each other. One arm wraps around your waist.

When you feel him pull you closer the focus breaks, your lips depart and you return the kiss, the kiss itself turning longer. Not even caring when a coworker passes by, your eyes are closed.

He can feel you responding to him finally, instead of trying to prove a point. Your eyes are closed, you’re no longer trying to hold back. His fingers trace your cheek as he keeps pulling you even closer so that your bodies are now up against each other.

Your back against a wall and he pressed against you, your hand traveling up to rest on his chest as the kiss kept going, turning more passionate

You can feel him press himself against you, and he wraps his other arm around your back; both his arms are now on you. He is taking charge and is leading the kiss. His fingers move from your cheek to your hair, as he pulls on it, and keeps the passion steady. His hands, your lips, his body pressed against your back... Everything feels so close and so warm... It’s as though no one or anything else exists except for you two.

And it feels good.. the kiss feels good for the both of you, each touch, you both feel the slow burn in your lungs for air, but keep kissing.

It feels extremely good. To feel your lips against his, to feel the heat and passion that keeps growing. Your arms around him, his arms around you. The feeling of your warm body against his body. The slow burn in your lungs, yet wanting more and more... The only sound that continues to play is just the sound of you both slowly breathing together, as your lips continue to lock together. Each touch brings in more and more passion...

You pull away, leaning his head against a wall to breathe. Your lips are swollen slightly as you breathe heavily.

Veritas pulls away as well and leans back from the kiss with a smirk. His lips were also plump, and swollen. Your breathing is heavy and quick, and he can see that your cheeks are slightly red. He seems slightly pleased and looks at you with that same teasing, smug smile.

„Proves nothing“ you deny it immediately.

His chuckle grows louder. “..You really hate admitting you enjoyed it, don't you? Even now, even after the long kiss. So much denial. So many excuses.”

„Tsk, you proved nothing. I'm just a good kisser that's all“

He laughs at your continued denial. “..You sound like a child now. Good kisser, who are you trying to fool? I saw your breathing and your expressions. I felt you getting more and more into it until the kiss became passionate. You’re denying the truth now just because you don't want to admit it.”

„There's nothing to admit except that we dislike each other, Veritas.“

“If there’s nothing to admit then there's no problem if I kiss you one more time, right?” He begins to lean in towards you and raises his brows as he waits for a response.

„What for?“ you protest, but the protest is much smaller than when he wanted to kiss you the last time. You can see his amused smirk form again, but he keeps his demeanor calm as he replies.

“..For the last time. To really get proof from you that the kiss meant nothing. A long, slow kiss, where you can’t deny anything. Surely you won’t say no to another kiss from a good kisser like me, now will you?”

„You have your proof, Veritas!“ He whispers it loudly as someone passes by.

His smirk grows wider, and he leans even closer this time. You can see the amusement in his eyes as he speaks in the same tone as you. “...There’s obviously still something missing. If you’re going to insist that the kiss meant nothing and that you have nothing to prove, then you must have no problem if I give you one last kiss.”

„You got enough of my lips today.“ You raise your chin, shaking your head gently. He really did… get to kiss you a lot today.

He chuckles at this, and even though he has heard it before, his smile grows wide. The more playful you get in your protests, the more confident he gets in his stance. “Just another one won’t hurt then, right? I mean, after all... you’re the supposed ‘good kisser’ here. And I believe that you’re good enough to kiss me in a way that makes me realize that the kiss meant nothing to you, correct?”

You sigh. „You aren't letting this go?“

He laughs at your sigh. “...Just another kiss to shut me up, that’s all. Come on, it should be easy then. Unless you’re afraid of what might happen?” He leans closer and raises an eyebrow.

„Fine. One last to prove you wrong again. How do you want it this time?“ You question him, annoyed at first sight, sighing.

“..Same as last time. Slow and passionate, with you completely giving in to your feelings. But just one more request this time. Make it longer... I want this kiss to last a little longer than the last one.”

„The last one was too long, and passionate. Why would I repeat it?“

He chuckles and replies, his voice now teasing. “...Do it how I want this time. Make me believe that the last 10 minutes or so was nothing but a game. Prove to me that you’re just a good kisser. Prove it by giving in to me and my kiss. I want to feel all your emotions. I want to make you lose control. So do exactly what I say.”

„I am just a good kisser“ you sigh „Fine, c'mere“ you gesture to him, as you are still leaning on the wall, to come to kiss you.

Veritas seems amused by your continued protest, and his smile grows. But he does do as you say; he begins to close the distance between the two of you until your bodies are once again pressed against each other. You can see the smug smile on his face, knowing he has gained the upper hand in this 'game’. He begins to kiss you, as you requested, and he pulls you into him with his hands on your waist, letting the kiss last longer...

You again try to hold back for a moment, but his hands on your waist relax you... you kiss back.

Veritas feels you relax, and he continues the kiss, using his hands on your waist to pull you even closer to him. His fingers trail up and down your back, and he is now fully embracing you in his lips. He is taking a deep breath in now, as he keeps kissing you. You can feel the heat of your bodies pressed against each other, and feel each of the sighs from your both. This kiss seems like it will never end, and this 'game' is now in another league entirely.

You enjoy the kiss, the soft caressing of his fingers on your body. Your hands go up his torso to hold onto your shirt, one hand moving higher to tangle in his hair.

Your touch causes him to feel something even deeper within himself, something that he hasn't felt in a long time. His passion starts growing more intense the longer the kiss goes, and he can feel you letting yourself go. The heat from your body is so intense, and the scent of his cologne combined with your scent is intoxicating. Your fingers running through his dark blue hair are sending shivers down his spine, and the embrace of his hands around your waist is like a safe shelter around you.

Then you both get lost in the kiss, with no thoughts, or rivalry or who is passing by, just each other's touch and lips. Other thoughts quickly vanish from your mind, and all you can focus on is this kiss. Your bodies are pressed tightly against each other, the heat growing hotter as time goes on. Nothing is more important right now; there's just both of your lips and the two of your bodies. Nothing else exists right now. It feels like the kiss will never end, and it feels so right. The passion is undeniable and unrelenting.

In a moment you separate to breathe, technically where the kiss should've ended, just before he puts his lips on yours again you exhale and whisper his name „Veritas...“ And meet his lips as he kisses you once more.

Your whisper sends a shiver down his spine, and he pulls you closer once more. At this moment, his name is enough. The way you said it so softly, almost in a whisper, is enough.

It doesn't even register to you that your lips separated and started another, until you hear a group of people, about to turn your corner, who are talking. You pull your lips away, leaning away from him, your head leaning onto a wall, and moving your hands off of him.

It makes you realize just where the two of you are standing. Veritas looks down, slightly embarrassed but you can see the faintest of smiles on his lips. His fingers brush your cheek as you both break the embrace. The lingering scent of his cologne is still heavy in the air, and you can feel the heat of the hug still lingering on your body. You can feel his breath against your cheek.

People pass by, and you don't say anything.

Once you both seem to fully realize the gravity of what just happened, the reality of your situation kicks in. It was an innocent but long kiss, made only longer when you had both decided to keep the whole thing going. The voices of people are louder now, and the two of you are both still breathing heavily and still hot from the heat of the long kiss. The moment is now over, though the scent of his cologne and the lingering taste of the kiss still lingers.

You are preparing yourself for your accusations of lying and that it wasn't just you being a good kisser, you curse yourself for mumbling his name earlier.

There is a moment of silence between the two of you. The noise of people passing by gets ever louder, but it still seems faint to you. The scent of his cologne is still lingering in the air, filling your lungs and your mind. You can feel the breath of his voice against your cheek, as you still feel every inch of the touch from his body that you just experienced.

He looks into your eyes, and for a moment, the silence, the smell of his cologne, and the taste of his kiss are all so intoxicating that it's almost like nothing else exists. Your lips are slightly swollen from his kiss, and there are still some traces of his saliva mixed into your lips.

„Veritas...“ you start, attempting to make up another excuse

He looks at you with a teasing and playful look on his lips. From the expression on his face and the way he's staring at you, it's like he knows he's cornered you now. He smiles at you, and a small twinkles in his eyes. He can't help but chuckle. His look is now mixed with amusement as well because he knows your pride will stop you from admitting anything. He raises one of his eyebrows and waits for you to continue.

When he doesn't interrupt you, like you hoped he would, and then he even smirks and raises an eyebrow...you know you are defeated, you can't make a truthful excuse, caught red-handed… you turn away from him, lightly hitting the wall with your hand and resting your head against it and he can hear you mumble a quiet „... shit“

Veritas’s smirk grows wider as he looks at the defeated look on your face. You still refuse to actually speak, and he can’t help but feel amused at the realization that your pride is completely keeping you from admitting what is obvious. He knows that all he has to do now is let the silence set in. The silence in itself and your attitude towards him makes it obvious.

You turn back around and face him again, and the exact moment you meet his eyes you look elsewhere.

He laughs quietly as he stares at you. Your blush is bright, and your face is slightly red, which is why the first thing you do after turning back around is to avoid eye contact. He can't help but smirk at this, and he can't stop himself from speaking. "Can't look at me anymore, can you? Am I that captivating?"

„You're like… average“ you scoff, not looking at him still. Which almost makes you laugh but you manage to hold it in, the lie too obvious as you say it aloud.

He scoffs, not able to hide his amusement. He knows damn well he's not average. He can see that you know he's not 'average' as well. "You want me to take that as a way of you finally admitting that you let yourself enjoy that kiss? Or is this still some desperate attempt to play it off as nothing?"

„Veritas please stop this torture.“ You complain.

He laughs softly for a moment and then sighs. There is a moment of silence again, as he stares at you. "I think I've made this painful enough. If you just admit the kiss meant something to you too, then the 'torture' will stop. Do you want that?"

You nod „Fine. It is rather obvious now.“

His whole demeanor shifts immediately. His mischievous grin that was playing on his lips immediately turned into a soft, genuine smile. He can see that the game has ended and that now he is talking to the real you, the one who let themselves get carried away with that kiss. He has a look of affection that he had been hiding behind the disguise of mockery.

You aren't meeting his gaze, arms crossed, lips swollen, cheeks blushed... and if someone were to come close enough they'd smell the two different scents… your perfume and his cologne.

He chuckles because he sees that you still can't quite meet his gaze just yet. He stares at your lips for a moment, thinking of that kiss and just how intense it all seemed. The scents of both your perfumes are still lingering in the air, and for a moment, you feel like you're still locked in that kiss.

„Fine. Fine. Fine.“ you sigh „Bet was the bet, nothing special, earlier today. I- then- just- didn't expect you to kiss back. I didn't feel anything special.“ And yet later on now... you have kissed three more times.

He laughs softly, knowing exactly how wrong your entire statement was. Both of you know it. It's obvious that you actually cared enough to play this 'game' with him, and you felt enough to get lost in that kiss. He can spot the hesitation in your eyes, the way you avoided your gaze, and the stutter in your words. But he still can't help but tease you. "Is that right? If you felt nothing special, then why did you let it go on for so much longer than it had to? And why the second kiss? And... the third one?"

„No, I meant the bet… was nothing special. Well.. mostly“ Your honesty is a double-edged sword.

That answer alone tells him everything that he needs to know. "Mostly? And what was the rest of it then? Were the other kisses something special for you? Or are you just gonna say they were just you being a good kisser?" He scoffs quietly.

„The bet one... I didn't expect you to kiss back- I kissed you just cos of the bet- to "lighten" you up, and then you returned the kiss.. and that was... surprising.. and then you wanted to chat in private and requested kisses to prove a point.“

He sighs silently, hearing your explanation. He can feel that your words are just excuses, that the kisses still mean more to you than you let on. The more you say, the more he smiles. It's clear that you actually want to continue this flirtation, even if you might not want to admit it. "Is that so? Because it seemed as if it meant something even during our bet... and the whole conversation we had in private. It all meant something to you, didn't it?"

„I think it was obvious I'm too deep in to make excuses after the last one- remember I turned around, punched the wall- I had nothing to say- why are you pushing this?“

A soft smile spreads across his face, and he chuckles. He can see that this flirtatious exchange has gone far beyond a simple game of proving a point. There's something about you that simply has pulled him in completely, something that he just cannot help but tease and flirt with. He's now just enjoying it and enjoying you as well. "I'm pushing this because I want to see you admit more about your feelings. And... I like teasing and flirting with you. Because it feels so damn good just being around you."

„Since when do you feel good being around me? We dislike each other. I...“ Your words are honest, „I don't know why it felt so good..“

He laughs softly, amused again that you refuse to actually see what you're feeling now. "We dislike each other, huh? So that was what our conversation was then... A long, intimate debate about how much we dislike each other. And that whole kiss, just a simple game of me teasing you. And this too."

His soft laugh is filled with a teasing tone, as he begins to lean closer and brush his nose against yours.

You sigh „Veritas... it appears to be... complicated“

He hums, as he leans in closer. His words are softer now, as he speaks with that same teasing, playful voice. "Complicated, huh? How complicated? Are you starting to admit to yourself that you feel something between us?"

„I can admit. But I do not know what it is, I only found out today and so did you, unless you're hiding something from me?“ You speak quietly.

Your quietness only sparks him even more, as he continues to stay just a few inches away from your lips and your face. He looks at you with that mischievous smirk on his face, as he can sense your confusion. "So does that mean the kisses were not just meaningless flirts then? Because from my perspective, you seemed to be enjoying it a lot. I'm not hiding anything. Also realized today."

„You enjoyed them too.“ You softly say.

His smirk grows wider; he can't help but love the teasing moments like this. Both of them enjoy these little flirts, but neither wants to be the first to just admit their feelings. "You... you're right. I enjoyed the hell out of every kiss. It was intense, it was passionate... and I couldn't help but get completely lost in it."

You look into the distance recalling the way it all felt... You zone out for a couple of moments.

He hums, sensing that the two of you are now getting more serious. Neither of you can deny the chemistry between you both, and that has only grown the more the two of you have kissed. He can see how much your thoughts are wandering now, and he loves that he has you this speechless, filled with so much emotion, and yet so clueless about how you're feeling. This is the most vulnerable that you have looked at so far, and he wants to keep it that way...

He moves closer now, getting just inches away from your face. He can smell your cologne and the air that is filled with both of your scents. The air feels so heavy and so full of emotions, where every inch of you feels so close in his presence. His voice is soft, and he begins to speak softly, almost in a whisper. "If you truly do want us to end this little game of back and forth... then you can just admit it now. Say the words, just say how these kisses meant something to you."

„I already did, Veritas“ you sigh.

His smirk grows and he nods his head, his eyes still staring right at you. The silence at that moment makes the feeling all the more intense, and even just being so close to one another felt so intoxicating. The quietness of his words had you feeling nervous, feeling excited all over again, and yet even that moment felt so real and...so honest. "I know you've been hinting at it....“

„The kiss felt good, you felt good.“

"Good? You felt good, I felt good... but is that it? Is that just the full story? Because I have a feeling that there's more."

You roll your eyes „Veritas Ratio, I won't repeat myself.“

The teasing moments that had made him feel so intoxicated earlier have suddenly turned into something else... something deeper. It felt as if the two of them were not playing games but expressing their honesty. He leans even closer now, as close as he can possibly get without actually touching your lips. "How about a deal, then? I will stop pushing you to admit how you've felt... if you say one more thing that you haven't said yet."

You meet his eyes „What is it?“

He lets the silence settle and linger for a moment, as he stares at you with that same, mischievous grin on his face. He can sense that this is finally getting far more serious, and that has his attention completely drawn in. He leans in even closer until he is practically touching your lips with his own, he's so close. "Tell me what made you enjoy every single one of our kisses... and just how much you actually have enjoyed me."

„Those are stupid questions, Veritas“ you scoff quietly due to close proximity. He is just trying to tease at this point.

He chuckles softly at the scoff, his eyes narrowing, but still holding that same mischievous grin on his lips. The proximity feels intense, the closeness of their faces, the heat coming from either of them, the two of them being so close that their bodies are almost touching. "But I don't think they're stupid at all. I don't think they're stupid because I want to hear each word from your lips, each and every reason as to why you've liked our kisses so far."

„How about you talk a bit about why you wanted to kiss me and your assumed feelings?“

His smirk grows wider, and a soft laugh exits his lips. You can sense the amusement in him still, but he also takes another look at you. He sighs and nods, and he looks away from you and speaks truthfully. "Why did I want to kiss you? Why did I enjoy them? The same reason as you, I think. Which is... because my emotions have been completely tied up around you. I want that closeness, I want that intimacy. That was the whole reason why I even continued flirting with you..."

You sigh, seemingly lost in thought, but if he asked you to look at him, he'd also see that you are smitten. Seeing that you are lost in thought, he doesn't say a word. You can see the expression of amusement on his face slowly fading, and being replaced with a more affectionate look and expression. He seems to sense the truth in your thoughts and the way your words have suddenly become more honest. You feel like if you asked him to look at you, the same expression of endearment would fill his eyes.

The kisses make your confused feelings bare, naked, vulnerable in front of him. You for some reason like him. And now you wait as to what he will do.

It's as if this unspoken understanding has been fully created between you both. You both seem to sense how deep these moments have become for one another, and it doesn't even need verbal words for you two to sense just how much these kisses really mean to you both. For the first time, you have fully revealed your emotions to one another.

All he can do is sigh, and he begins to speak softly again, the tease of a flirt just completely replaced by that of a heartfelt, affectionate moment. "It's true that these kisses felt good because I felt like I could finally express my emotions toward you. These kisses felt good because the whole reason I've been flirting with you is that... I've felt...this deep connection with you that I can't explain. This connection, I've wanted it to be more... I've wanted to be closer with you. And... all these kisses just felt so good because... because I've just wanted nothing but to be with you. Well, I only realized it recently."

„I'm surprised that we discovered this... after disliking each other for years up until this day.“

"We've finally discovered it, and I'm not surprised that neither one of us has admitted it earlier today. We've always been so stuck in this game of hatred that we've missed out on...something amazing. I guess you could say that we've played this game too long, and so it took a few kisses to finally start seeing just how wrong we both were."

You nod „Gods-„ you put your head into your hands „The rumors will be awful“ You remember hearing footsteps during the last kiss.

He sighs softly, as he places his hands onto the back of your head and gently begins to brush your hair with his fingers. It was true that the rumors were something you two would have to face, he felt like it would somehow be worth it. "Do you think we should really care about the rumors though? There's always going to be rumors, and this is one that you and I know is true. So, let them talk, but let us focus on what is really important."

You look up at him „Veritas...“

He grins softly, as he sees that your gaze has now met his. He feels so happy as if he can finally be honest with you at this moment. The rumors may spread, but you feel as if that would be a small price to pay for what it would be worth. "Yes?"

You just sigh softly.

He hums, as his hand begins to brush your chin, which leads him to gently stroke your cheek. The way you sighed so softly made him feel so...so warm and happy. You both were finally seeing the full truth of your feelings, and it felt as if everything bad in the world was melting away.

„We gotta go back to work...“ As your words break the silence of that tender moment, his smile fades away, and he sighs. It was true that all this was happening during working hours, and the both of you had been gone for a while already. "You're right, isn't it late already? We've been gone for too long..."

„Too long yes...“

He nods and pulls his hand away. "Yeah... we've both been gone too long. So, should we... should we go back before they notice?“

„Oh trust, they have noticed“

He chuckles softly, as he nods again. "Yeah, you're right about that. I'm just more surprised they hadn't come to check up on us yet."

„They wouldn't dare. They probably thought we were fighting… but the rumors will start soon.“

He nods. "They probably did. But you're right, rumors will definitely start spreading soon. I wonder what would they say about us though... about how far we went... about what we could have been doing in this hallway..."

You laugh „Ah yes“ in a mocking tone „Rumor spreads about Doctor Ratio and the lead researcher, long hated rivals seen making out in a hallway“

His smirk grows, as he chuckles softly, too. Your words seem hilarious, and yet they are also a bit...a bit too true. He can see that he would definitely not be surprised if this was suddenly the newest rumor around the office, with many, many different versions and details. "Lead researcher and hated rival found together... making out in a private room... for at least an hour. The rumors will probably even mention how long our kiss lasted, and just how much we wanted it to continue."

„Oh stop it“ you gesture as you two walk slowly back, just at the mention of the kiss you remember how good it felt.

He laughs softly and follows along, also remembering the kiss but feeling how it has made him more affectionate. He reaches his free hand over and rubs your shoulder, his touch feeling affectionate. "You know it's true. The way you feel, the way I feel, and the way they will now interpret what's going on. If I'm being honest."

You sigh „Probably “ you stop for a moment, closing your eyes in the memory of the kiss, his cologne taking you back.

He stops alongside you, as he smiles. He can't help but look at the way you have just closed your eyes as if you can picture the moments clearly and as if the kiss has become a core memory for you. He doesn't say a word, not even wanting to break that peaceful silence.

„Sorry-„ you open your eyes, realizing you stopped walking, giving him the perfect opportunity for him to also seize this moment and do it again. This time, he takes advantage of that moment, and he begins to lean in again cupping your cheek, his lips now almost touching yours. He holds his breath, his body beginning to lean towards you all on its own. He stops for just a moment, only a breath's distance away from your lips before he leans just a bit closer...

„Veritas-„ you speak his name.

Your words have become the trigger for this kiss, one that you will never forget and will always cherish. As he hears his name called, all those emotions inside of him suddenly begin to boil up. Your voice... the way you call his name has so much depth and feeling in it. The feeling of you saying his name is what sends him off the edge, as his mouth instantly meets yours...

You return it immediately, no longer pretending at the beginning of the kisses.

The two of you have finally let the kiss take over, as you return the passionate gesture in kind. Your kiss is no longer filled with the awkwardness or the tease of the flirt, it has become something passionate and almost...something more. Your voices may have spoken about how far you feel from one another, but the kiss you two had just shared speaks for itself, and it says so much more than words have ever could.

Your hand travels up to his hair pulling your lips closer.

He can't help but gasp as a loud moan escapes his lips, and the feeling of having his hair pulled fills him with even more energy. Your touch feels just the right amount of rough and soft, as he leans into that pull and meets your lips even further. That pull in his hair seems to have added just that little bit of spice to this passionate, energetic kiss.

You're surprised with his loud noise, and quickly swallow his moan with your lips, drowning the sound from anyone who may hear it.

The way you had instantly swallowed your moans had only brought him to moan even louder. This was more than just a simple kiss, this was an intense, passionate kiss. One that was completely out of control and only getting worse. It was exactly how this kiss should be, and he can't help but moan even louder in response, and he only pulls you in even closer now. You whine softly when he pulls you closer, you think how he will just get you both in trouble by being that loud. Truly a menace with the way he keeps making lewd noises.

He laughs quietly now, a soft and almost teasing laugh, as he pulls back for just a moment just to speak. "You know you like it when I pull you in this close. I can hear you whining, and it sounds so damn good."

„Did you have to moan- three times?“ you scold him, whispering.

He smirks at your scornful and seductive tone. "I mean...I could have just groaned once. That would have been enough for the effect, right?"

You stop your movements, your brain trying to imagine how his groaning would sound... you lean onto the wall behind you „Fuck... d- don't give my head ideas to imagine.“

He laughs at your reaction, a soft and teasing laugh once more. To you, he seems to have this way of making you feel both embarrassed and intrigued. This time is no different, as he leans just close enough so that he can whisper into your ear. "Don't worry my dear, now I have you picturing all sorts of things in your head..."

You whisper back „Fuck off“ And then you add „Don't you dare groan in my ear or I swear-„

He only laughs again, a bit more playfully this time. And then he whispers closely to your ear. "Just imagine me just groaning into your ear right now. It's almost as if I can hear your heart racing with that thought, it's so loud..."

„Veritas“ you warn „Don't you dare“ You feel like the energy and tension between you two is high now, and those types of noises would do some things to the both of you.

Instead of listening to your warning, he only leans in even further, to the point where he is whispering mere inches away from your ear. "Come on now, imagine the deep and sexy groan, the way my body almost presses into you. There's no denying this connection between us, dear..." The small nickname makes you smile.

You keep imagining, but you fear he'd actually groan on purpose which makes your knees weak. He senses your weakness, and so he whispers once more. "I could start to groan at any second now, and that thought alone probably makes you feel weak and weak in the knees. I bet that the thought of me just slowly groaning into your ear, sensually, makes your heart race with desire..."

You whisper back „Fuck off Veritas“ He is teasing at this point.

He laughs, and then he whispers back. "Why? You're thinking about it, aren't you? The thought of a deep, loud, sensual groan? The idea of it almost pushes you to your limits... to just let yourself become so overtaken by that feeling of desire..."

„I have to return to work you menace-„ you whisper.

"Oh, I see. You're back to just calling me names. I suppose that means I really am driving you crazy, am I?" He whispers, teasingly, as he then adds. "And what is it that will happen if I keep whispering things into your ear? Will you suddenly explode from too much desire? Or will you just be too embarrassed?"

„Veritas“ you warn sternly.

He sighs, as he finally leans away, back to his original distance from you. Instead of laughing back at you this time, he simply chuckles and gives a playful smirk. "Is that a warning? I didn't realize I had such an effect on you. Do I need to stop with my playful flirting, my dear?"

„We will see how you behave when I threaten you with such a noise- except you didn't actually make the noise“ Speaking normally now. And you're right… but maybe you should raise the stakes… play this game.

That sudden change to your volume has brought out a soft and teasing grin on his face. "Oh, so now you're going to threaten me with noises that you're going to make? I suppose then I'll have to threaten you on the sound of kisses. Because it is your lips that I keep on imagining, and it only makes my imagination run wild as I remember that sweet and sensual kiss..."

„Hm“ you tilt your head, smirking, then lean in to whisper „Imagine just us laying on the bed... wouldn't it be so nice the way I would moan your name, Veritas? wouldn't it sound so good?“ Then you actually moan into his ear just to tease him back and drive him insane.

He laughs softly as he feels the moan against his ear. He can feel some chills run down his spine, as his body begins to shiver a bit, too. It seemed this moan of yours...this moan that was now echoing in his ears...it was beginning to drive him absolutely insane. He was finding it easier and easier to picture the two of you lying on the bed together, and your moans suddenly felt all too real now.

You left him standing there with his thoughts, he seemed zoned out as you are now walking a tad further ahead.

He sighs as he begins to follow you as well. It seemed that the flirting was a bit too much to think about right now. However, he is curious about one thing.

"Just one question, my dear. How many kisses did we even share just now? How much time was dedicated to only kissing one another? We've kissed many times during the day, but this one...this one felt so real.“

You say simply. „5“

His eyes widen, as he listens to your answer. He's surprised to hear such a high number. There were indeed several kisses in their conversation, but did time seem to have really been that fast with each kiss? "Five kisses...wow. Really? I guess when two people who have such high intellect and intelligence, time does seem to pass us by too often, doesn't it?"

You are soon by your lab doors, slowing down your walking. Once you do arrive at the lab's door, he just stares silently at you for just a moment. He knows that there won't be another moment for flirting today, as work is soon back on the plan of action for both of you. And yet, he can't help but gaze at you for this last moment, this look is filled with affection, admiration, and even a small bit of desire.

„Staring is rude, Veritas~“ You smirk as he stares at you.

He simply chuckles, as he continues to stare even after you speak. "Staring at you... staring at you can never be rude. You are like a picture - a rare artwork that everyone should appreciate, look at, and examine. The only thing that is rude about staring is that I can't do it all the time. Your beauty should always be on full display for others to gaze at in awe."

You laugh softly „I'm more of a need-only-one-person-in-my-life type of person“

"I am not one to argue on that. Although I am curious to know what I am that makes you want only me. Is it my voice? My looks? My personality? Or something else that has kept you on a leash?" He smirks, his stare still not changing one bit.

„Go work, Veritas“ you smirk entering your lab, not answering to his assumption that you only want him. But it was a correct assumption. Refusing to also answer to his remark of being kept on a leash. You can only laugh to yourself at his words.

He smiles, and then he rolls his eyes, but there is no true annoyance behind this gesture. Instead, it's more humorous now. "Fine, I got work to do too. Just remember, you're not getting rid of me that easily." He then waves his hand back at you, before heading off to his own lab to finish his work.

#hsr #honkai star rail #star rail #dr ratio #doctor ratio #veritas ratio #hoyoverse #fluff #smut #dr ratio fluff #dr ratio smut #dr ratio fanfic #dr ratio oneshot #dr ratio writing #kavetham' son #haikaveh' son #veritas ratio oneshot #dr ratio x reader

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takemetomyfragiledreams · 1 month ago

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Little excerpt from a fic I started way back and have never gotten around to finishing. I really love it though and wanted to show some of the dynamic going on between Arkham Knight!Jason and Joker Junior!Tim:

Jason stares at the corpse laid out on his doorstep. It’s as if a cat has deemed him worthy enough to bring back its kill, except Jason doesn’t even have a cat, let alone one big enough to kill and drag a man up six flights of stairs.

Really, this is just getting ridiculous.

There’s a bloody smile painted onto the man’s face and a note taped to his chest. Jason yanks it free to glare at the neat script.

What do you name a knight that won’t die? Sir Vivor.

For a moment, he can’t process what he’s seeing. He flips the paper over in search of further writing, but there’s nothing. Just a stupid smiley face and that same neat handwriting staring back at him.

Is that a threat? Up until now his mystery killer has been malevolent to Clown lovers only. Are they widening their pool?

They know where he lives—or at least, they know of one of his safe houses. Are they watching him right now, trying to make him squirm?

He casts his gaze around, lip curled back into a bitter snarl. They’ll learn the hard way that he doesn’t squirm. Hasn’t since he was left in the Clown’s hands.

He forces himself to keep the paper despite his desire to rip it to shreds. A solid kick is landed to the corpse’s ribs as he lets out a vicious curse. His comm crackles to life with a touch of his hand.

“I need a body pickup,” he barks, “and a full scan of my location. Anybody suspicious found lurking around is to be detained.”

He doesn’t give time for a response. He shuts the line off with a sharp twist of his wrist before turning on his heel to stomp away, paper clutched tight in his fist. Or, at least, that’s what he tells himself to do. It’s the smart thing. There could be an ambush inside; it wouldn’t be the first time. He has better things to do than bother with some asshole’s idea of a practical joke.

Except someone decided to wet his doorstep with blood. And Jason’s pissed.

His leg swings up to smash his own door down in three hard kicks. He can feel the contact reverberate up his leg but it doesn’t stop him. His own alarm starts to wail before he reaches up to throw the small shrapnel bombs above the door into the kitchen and living room respectively. They go off in a shower of razor sharp metal, piercing through furniture and embedding into the walls.

Jason pulls a gun and stalks inside.

“Geez,” someone says from the hall leading into his bedroom. The angle was off or he would have thrown one of the bombs that way too. “If ya hate the place so much, ya could just sell it. No need to go around vandalizin’ property, yanno?”

“Get out here,” Jason barks, “and keep your hands where I can see them, asshole. You’re lucky I didn’t blow the whole place up with you inside.”

There’s a quiet little giggle that sends a chill down Jason’s spine. He’s trying to figure out why it sounds so familiar when a small figure steps out into the light, hands held up by his head. He’s wearing what looks like a kevlar bodysuit with an actual suit jacket overtop that looks like it’s seen better days. An arm and half of the side has been ripped off entirely, while the pants are nowhere to be seen. Thick soled boots cover his legs from slender ankles to muscled thighs. There are belts hanging from his waist and chest, connected to several different holsters. There’s a machine gun strapped to his back, what looks like a modified pistol with a silencer on his thigh and an assortment of knives on his arm. And that’s just what Jason can see.

It’s the smile that gives it away though. Crooked and stretched around the scar tissue cutting up through his cheeks. Just like the smiles on the bodies of the Joker’s goons.

“You,” Jason breathes, “you’re the one that’s been leaving bodies around the city.”

“I would hardly say ‘m the only one,” comes the mild response. “You leave bodies behind almost every day.”

“And yet you decided it was a good idea to break into one of my safe houses. Why?”

“I wanted to meet you.”

“What?”

He grins and gives a little wiggle of his fingers, like a mockery of a wave. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I even saw ya fly a few times, back when ya still had a shadow. I wanted t’ meet you now, to see if yer still the same.”

There’s only one shadow he could mean. It belongs to someone he’s been doing his best not to think about for months now. Instead, he focuses on the strange rise and fall of the stranger’s accent. It doesn’t sound natural. It’s as if every other sentence his brain catches up and realizes what he’s doing. Jason just can’t decide which one is the truth: the careless syllables or the posh upper crust accent.

“Why now?”

“I only got out recently—couldn’t come see ya, even if I tried. And then I got up ‘ere and saw those idiots dressed as clowns,” a dark look crosses his face. His smile turns sharper, more dangerous, but it doesn’t fade. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“You were in Arkham?”

“Something like that.”

Jason doesn’t remember anyone like him visiting the cell he was kept in. Judging by his kills, he could’ve been on bad terms with the Clown. Then again, the Joker had run Arkham. If someone he didn’t like came in, they didn’t last very long.

Jason doesn’t lower his gun.

“Who are you?”

For the first time, the smile disappears. His head tilts to the side like a bird. “Who am I?” He repeats. “I don’t really know.”

Jason scoffs. “Bad place to come to find yourself, kid.”

Another giggle raises the hairs at the back of his neck. “I lost myself a long time ago, Jason. I’m not looking anymore.”

His name sends a chill down his twisted spine but Jason gives no outward signs of just how unsettled he is. “That doesn’t give me much of a reason to let you live.”

“No, I suppose not.” His hands drop to his sides as he moves to examine the shrapnel embedded into the wall. He pokes at a sharp edge carelessly, though his gloves hide any blood. He makes no sign of caring about the gun trained on his head.

It’s really starting to piss Jason off. An unintimidated enemy is either stupid or has something up their sleeve. He’s not banking on stupid.

“Tim,” he finally says, “that’s what my name was Before.”

“Tim,” Jason echoes, “get the fuck out of my house.”

There’s a grin and a giggle and then he’s gone in a rain of smoke pellets. Jason waves it away from his face with a cough and wonders if he shouldn’t’ve just shot the bastard anyways.

#jaytim #jaytim fanfic #i really need to finish this some day bc I do love this fic #i just have so much other stuff i'm working on as is #kayla talks #my writing #arkham knight!jason #joker junior tim drake #wip talk #fic: the creation is not the creator

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bunnliix · 10 months ago

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Can't Stay Away from You - Chapter One

First chapter woot woot! This is by far, the longest chapter I've ever written, at over 7k words, and honestly, I hope this is good? It's my first time writing a/b/o, and I'm a little unsure of where this is going exactly, but I hope everyone will have fun on the rollercoaster that this fic is bound to be!

masterlist

word count: 7k

warnings: defintely some angst in here, but lighter angst?, reader is anxious at parts, but like for the most part, there's really not much to warn about I think? Please let me know if I'm wrong or if I need to add anything!

Y/n wasn’t expecting any emails, but when she heard the ding that let her know she had received one, she immediately looked. She never knew when she’d get another freelance job, so whenever an email came in, she developed the habit of checking it. This wasn’t a work email, no, but it was from one of the stores she had recently bought a couple of Stray Kids albums from. From the subject line, it was about the albums she had bought, and a fansign? She doesn’t remember signing up for one, but she also has been so busy, she probably forgot about it.

Opening up the email, she found that she had won a place at an in person fansign in Seoul, in two days. She was so shocked by this news that she held her breath, not thinking this was real for a moment. She read through the email fully, memorizing every word, she really had won, holy shit. She thanked the gods that she didn’t work a physical job, because it meant she could work from anywhere, and she started figuring out her trip to Seoul. There was no way she was missing out on a chance to meet Stray Kids.

She quickly found a plane ticket, even if it was insanely expensive, and she thanked herself for her savings, having to dip into that a bit for this trip. She then moved on to finding a place to stay, and found a nice hotel that wasn’t outrageously expensive, and immediately booked it. She’d be flying out in about seven hours, leaving her to scramble to pack and leave for the airport. Quickly packing her luggage, having a packing list made up from previous trips, she packed clothes for a week, deciding to explore a bit since she was going there.

Y/n’s travelled enough to have mastered the skill of packing efficiently, gathering everything she needed into 3 pieces of luggage. She double-checked her travel list, making sure she had packed enough for her trip. Before she shoved her laptop and cords into her bag, she sent out an email to her current clients stating that she had an emergency occur, and that her work may be delayed by a day. At this point, it was almost time for her to head to the airport. So, she finished packing the last of her things into her carry-on. Remembering to grab her coat before putting her shoes on, she grabbed her bags and left the apartment.

She took a taxi to the airport, and on the way there, texted her best friend Emily that she was heading out of the country and asking her to watch over her apartment while she was gone. Emily agreed right away, and told her not to worry about anything. She smiled down at her phone, her bestie was her ride or die, and she was so grateful to have her in her life.

When she arrived at the airport, she thanked the driver, pulling her luggage out of the trunk and heading straight to the check in counter. The process was smooth and she was quickly on her way to security, which while terribly busy, went by quickly and soon she was sitting at her gate, having grabbed a couple snacks for the plane and filled up her water bottle on the way over there. She had about an hour before boarding, so she pulled out her laptop, deciding to get some work done while she waited. She finished off the last edits to one project, sending that off to one of her clients, before starting on one of her other projects.

Halfway through her second project, the call for boarding went out over the P.A. system, and so she saved her work, slipping her laptop back into her bag before lining up with everyone else. She was lucky enough to get a last minute window seat on the plane, putting her carry-on in the overhead bin, before settling in her seat as she pushed her smaller bag under the seat in front of her. She looked out the window as the plane took off, the start of her journey to Seoul, and meeting Stray Kids, was starting now. Since it was a relatively long flight, she pulled out her laptop once she was able to do so, starting back on the project she worked on earlier. She spent the majority of the flight working on her current workload, which was about four projects at the moment.

They were all fairly simple projects, they just took time to perfect them, but it was a great way to pass the time. By the time she finished her last project, there was only a couple hours left of the flight, and so she rested and watched the clouds roll by. Y/n admired the view as they landed in Seoul, excited to explore the city.

Patiently waiting to disembark the plane, she waited until she was able to leave her row, grabbing her bag from the overhead bin and then bringing it down, pulling it behind her as she left the plane. She pulled it along, heading towards the luggage carousel, before she went through customs and immigration, quickly clearing them and heading out into Seoul. She took the metro to head towards her hotel, unpacking her headphones and listening to music to pass the time on the train. Once off the train, she pulled out her phone to find her hotel location, quickly finding her way to the hotel. Thankfully, it was late enough that she could check in right away and head to her room. She took the elevator up, finding her room midway down the hallway, and upon opening the door, found that she had a beautiful view of the city around her.

She dropped her luggage by the bed, and walked towards the window, admiring her view of the city. She may not be a heights kind of person, but this was still beautiful, and she would be looking out a lot during her week here. She hauled her suitcase up onto the bed, pulling out a fresh outfit, before heading to the bathroom to shower. Once she had, she changed into her fresh outfit, pleased to get the smell of the airplane and airports off of her. Since it was still light out for a while, she decided to get out into the city and explore the neighborhood around her. She packed her smaller bag with the necessities, grabbing her key card on the way out the door and quickly going back down to the lobby and out into the fresh air.

Y/n knew travelling alone as an omega always brought risks with it, but it was worth it to be here in Seoul, both for the fansign and just in general. It was sunny and warm in Seoul, a great contrast from back home, and she was living for it. She was always a warm weather kinda girl, and the warm air and sunshine here made her thrive. She decided on just walking the area around her, figuring tomorrow would be one of her bigger exploration days.

She saw a lot of stores that intrigued her, but thought better of shopping, she’d be exhausted much quicker if she gave into that urge. She was glad that she brought her headphones, it helped distract from the loud noises of the city, and brought the level down to a reasonable one she could deal with. The hustle and bustle of the city was normal to her, since her own city was similar,

Up until now, her omega had been strangely quiet. Usually she was very outspoken, more so than y/n herself was. Her omega was going haywire at the moment, confusing the poor girl as to what set the omega off. She felt almost pulled forward, and her omega pushed to the surface, making her walk faster to wherever that pull was coming from. It culminated in her running into someone, and ended with her on the ground in front of them, looking up at their mask-covered face.

“Are you alright? I’m sorry that I bumped into you.” The person said as they leaned down, reaching out a hand to her. She tentatively took it, and she stood up with their help. Standing so close to them, she could smell their citrusy sweet scent, it calling to and calming her omega. That confused her slightly, but she shook it off, not wanting to think about it now.

“I’m okay, and really, I bumped into you. I should be the one apologizing.” She replied.

“Let’s just say we bumped into each other then? We both played a part in this.” They told her, and she could see that they were smiling by the crinkles near their eyes.

“I can agree to that.” Y/n replied, giggling slightly.

She saw as the other person took a breath of her scent, and for some reason they stumbled back away from her, their eyes widening.

“I’ve got to go, I’m sorry.” They said, rushing away from her, leaving her standing there alone on the sidewalk.

She watched him run away, and her omega cried out, and y/n felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Her anxiety shot up, and tears came to her eyes. She’s so confused, she doesn’t completely understand what’s just happened, and why she was so affected by it.

She felt increasingly down as she walked back to her hotel, no longer feeling any urge to explore, just wanting to retreat back into her room and nest. She speed-walked into the hotel elevator, avoiding everyone. Once back in her room, she locked her door and got to work making a nest in the bed, using everything she could. She finished it and then climbed inside, curling up into herself as her omega cried out to someone, for an unknown reason. That, and she couldn’t take her mind off of the person who ran away from her, and everytime she thought of him, it made her chest hurt.

In the end, she fell asleep, and she dreamed of them again. She had dreams every so often about Stray Kids, and she assumed this was once again, her brain being delusional. She dreamed about going on vacation with them, assumedly in Australia given her surroundings, but she felt that this dream was different.

She noticed that this time, the member’s touch and reactions felt more real? It felt like these were actually the boys, and not figments of her imagination like they usually did. Their eyes seemed shocked, even as they all enjoyed the dream. They were more touchy with her, Felix especially. She noticed that he looked similar to the person she ran into earlier, but shook it off as her just being delusional again. She enjoyed her dream and found happiness with the boys, as it was just a dream, that’s all.

Waking up the next morning in her makeshift nest, she whined at the lack of someone beside her, having fallen asleep in her dream next to the boys. Her scent smelled like burnt honey and vanilla because of her sadness, but she pushed through, thinking of happy thoughts and how she’d get to see the boys later today. She got up, having to get out of her nest that smelt like sadness. Pulling out an outfit for the fanmeet, she quickly showered before changing, and then moved onto her makeup and hair. She did her makeup like she usually did, leaning more towards a very natural look, knowing if she wore too much, it would be harder to touch up later on.

Before leaving her room, she checked the rules for attending the fansign, and quickly memorized them. She headed back to the bathroom, since one of the rules was wearing scent blockers, and quickly applied them to her scent glands, making sure she covered them fully. The rule had been put into place because of an incident with a second gen girl group fansign years ago, she remembered the aftermath of it very well, despite being young at the time. One of the fans, an alpha, attended the fansign and tried to overwhelm one of the omega members of the group with her scent, and since then, companies have made it mandatory that scent blockers be worn during fansigns.

Checking her outfit in the mirror once again, she made sure it looked right, fixing anything that was out of place. She had decided on an outfit that reminded her of a mix of Felix and Han’s individual styles, but had blended them together in her outfit. Plus, it was really comfy, and knowing she had a long day in front of her, she didn’t want to be stuck in something uncomfortable. She grabbed her bag, setting out for the day. She planned to explore and see some tourist sights first, before the fansign, since it wasn’t starting for a couple hours from then.

She mostly wandered as she wanted, not having a specific destination in mind. She found herself wandering a market and buying some snacks along the way. Everything she bought tasted better than the prior snacks, and she had to leave the market in a hurry lest she get distracted. To her benefit, however, this passed enough time that she almost had to run to make it to the fansign venue.

She made it there in under 20 minutes, and hopped in line with everyone else, having brought her ID, and had the email that she won as well. Checking in was a simple process for the most part, however the ID checking part was the most tedious. Once that was finished and they confirmed that she was who she said she was and that she was allowed entry, she was quickly shuffled into the hall where the fansign took place.

Y/n found herself about midway between the front and back of the hall, and almost straight in the middle of her row. She greeted the girls next to her, making small talk with them as much as she was able to with her limited knowledge of Korean. They mostly talked about their favorite members and songs, and whose outfits they liked the most in this recent comeback. Y/n enjoyed chatting with the other girls, and a couple more of the ones around them joined in as well, and just before the boys walked out, they had created a small group chat, adding each other on kakaotalk.

The minute the boys walked out on the stage, all eyes were on them, and the cheers were almost deafening. Despite it only being a small fraction of the number of people at a concert, it was as loud as a concert. Yet it only took Bang Chan raising his hand for the crowd of fans to fall silent.

“Hello everyone!” He said, waving to the room. He and the boys quickly introduced themselves and did their “Step out” intro as they always do. They took the first part of the fanmeet to goof around on stage, playing around with some of the items laid out for them by staff.

During this, y/n couldn’t keep her eyes off of them, feeling almost a pulling sensation in her chest, and a need to keep an eye on the boys. She ignored the pulling feeling, trying to enjoy the fansign and commit this all to memory. She soaked in the atmosphere, the joy that radiated around the room, from the fans and the idols. It filled her with happiness, the feeling almost bursting out of her chest.

It wasn’t long before they boys had moved onto the signing part of the fansign. She watched as each row of fans lined up to meet the idol group, going down the line one by one, and the smiles on the boys’ faces made her smile too. It made her happy to see them happy, and she knew the girls around her felt the same way. Her hand was tapped as a girl in the row ahead of her asked her to record her interactions with the boys, and she readily agreed. Once that girl was up on stage, she zoomed in and recorded her interaction with the eight idols. In return, once it was her turn to line up with her album to meet the boys, the other girl offered to record her going down the line and talking with the boys, to which she quickly thanked her for offering and y/n handed her her phone. She lined up on the side of the stage, nervousness growing as there were only a few girls still in between her and Changbin, the first of the eight boys she’d meet today.

Soon, she sat in the chair in front of the rapper, smiling at him as she said hello, shaking slightly due to her nerves.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you!” She told him, smile as bright as the sun.

“Ahh, nice to meet you too!” He said, taking her album as she handed it to him, opening to one of his pages. “Where are you from?” He asked, noticing her nerves and the slight shake to her body, determined to get her less nervous.

“I’m from Canada. I flew here and arrived yesterday afternoon.” Y/n told him.

“Oh wow! Really? That’s so far away!” He was surprised she flew that far for their fansign, he even applauded her for it, to which she shied away, hiding her face.

“No, no hiding!” He teased her, and she slowly pulled her hands away, looking at him with red cheeks.

“Is it cold back in Canada?” Changbin asked.

“It’s not too bad, I guess? But I prefer it here where it’s warm and sunny.” She told him, replying to his question.

“Ohhh, you like warm.” He said, English skills finally breaking down a bit.

“I love the warmth. I’m always too cold, see?” She said to him, showing her hands which were slightly pink at the tips.

He grabbed her hands gently, rubbing them to try and warm them up. He knew it was chilly in there, but not to where one of their fans was becoming very cold. He was so concerned for her, almost abnormally so, but he chalked it up to just caring for their stays.

“Oh no, you’re so cold! It’s too cold here.” He said after rubbing her hands for a couple moments.

“Oh no, it’s okay, Changbin-oppa. My fingers and toes are always like this, no matter how warm it is. Just my body being bad, that’s all.” She corrected him gently, wanting to ensure he knew it wasn’t the room, it was just her.

And sadly, that is where her time with the rapper ended, with her being moved onto the next man, who was the Hwang Hyunjin, who was waiting for her to move down in front of him, which made her blush intensify.

“Hello Hyunjin!” She said, voice a little on the higher side.

“Hello, Stay!” He said, smiling at her. “What’s your name?” He asked as he received her album, moving to sign one of his pages that she had marked.

“My name is y/n! And we’re born in the same year, Hyunjin-ssi.” She informed him, slightly swaying in order to calm herself.

“Oh? We are? That’s amazing! What month?” He further questioned her, a slight surprise showing on his face.

“I’m a September baby, so I’m younger than you by a couple months.” She said, watching him sign her album.

He looked back up at her, his beauty was ethereal, and it took her breath away to see him this close up. He reached out to grab her hands, both of them pulling away slightly and flinching at the zap of electricity. It couldn’t have been more than static electricity, but it felt almost like a connection of sorts. Both of them waved it off, not thinking much of it, but inside, their beta and omega knew what had just happened, and were berating them for ignoring it.

“Your name is really pretty, I forgot to tell you.” He said earnestly, his eyes feeling like they were staring right into her soul, and she could see so many emotions floating around in those captivating eyes. She couldn't keep eye contact with him and looked away, down at her lap to avoid his gaze.

“Thank you, Hyunjin-ssi.” She said, still unable to look him in the eyes.

“Stay doesn’t have to use -ssi, call me Hyunjin, please?” He begged her, leaning down on the table to try and get her attention, to which she looked up at him, giggling at his position.

“What are you doing?” She said between giggles.

“I just wanted-” He started, but was interrupted by staff ushering her to move onto the next member, to Hyunjin’s dismay. He wanted to talk with her all day.

Seungmin was next, and his gentle smile caused her to continue to smile in return, her smile not dimming, but becoming softer.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” He said, much calmer than the others, but you could see that he was just as excited to meet their fans as the other boys were.

“Hello Seungmin, it’s nice to meet you too.” She said, telling him her name afterwards, so that he had a name to sign the album with.

They made small talk as he signed, and then continued on afterwards. Y/n told him how far she travelled to be here today, and then expanded on her home as Seungmin asked her more questions about where she was from. She tells him that no matter how long the journey was, she wouldn’t have missed being here, and missing the chance to talk to them, for anything else in the world.

To this, his face is filled with awe and wonder, always surprised at what lengths their fans go to in order to see them live or to meet them. She then talks about what she loves about him, and how she enjoys seeing his interactions with the other boys, and how his voice is angelic. She just about showers him in compliments, until her time with the vocalracha member is up.

He waves goodbye to her and hands her album onto Jeongin, who’s next in line. He smiled at her as she slid over into the chair in front of the maknae, who, having heard her name from when she told his fellow member, quickly signed her album, before reaching out to grab her hands, squeezing them. This shocked y/n slightly, not expecting how intense the maknae was right then and there. He however, just felt drawn to her, like a moth to a flame, and wanted to be in contact with her. His alpha encouraged his actions, and the man himself didn’t question his alpha, and just continued looking at her with a smile on his face.

“Hi, Stay!” He said excitedly, to which y/n replied back, asking how he was doing.

“I’m doing better now that I get to talk to you.” He answered her, winking at the end and slightly flirting, to which he got lightly smacked by Minho.

Y/n wasn't faring well with the intense nature of the supposed “baby bread” youngest member, and it clearly showed on her face, which was turning, in Jeongin’s eyes, a lovely shade of pink, and her eyes were wide as she stared at him.

“You look so cute, Stay.” He complimented her, to which she blushed harder. His grin grew as he watched her blush intensify, and to which his alpha almost purred in contentment.

He continued teasing her, to which her responses were almost nonsensical, until the staff member became her savior by telling Jeongin that she had to move to the next member. Minho, being impatient, grabbed her hands from his fellow member and pulled her over to the chair in front of his space at the table, grabbing her album afterwards. Jeongin pouted at his hyung’s actions, watching you move over to the next chair. He only stopped overtly watching her when the next Stay sat down in front of him, his attention turning to them.

“Hello Lino!” Y/n said, a smile still stuck on her face.

“Hello Stay.” He said, shaking their hands as he had yet to let go. “Do you have any pets?” He asked, finally but almost reluctantly pulling his hands away so he could sign her album.

“I do! I have a bunny, named Jack.” She told him, telling him how she got him, and about all of her bunny’s little quirks.

He stopped signing her album just to look up at her and watch her talk. He was oddly drawn to her, and observed her as she talked. Her smile was extraordinary and how he wanted to never see her smile fade away, he felt pulled in by her, and he knew it wasn’t her scent, it couldn’t have been since he could see the scent blockers on her skin. But she almost called out to him, to his alpha. He internally questioned if there was something more to that feeling or if it was only just because she was similar to his omegas, to Jisung and Felix. Her outfit clearly took inspiration from them, and she seemed similar in personality, so maybe that was the culprit behind this pull he was feeling.

He realized that he hadn’t finished signing her album, and hurried to do so as he lightly chatted with her, mostly about their own pets and how troublesome they were at times. Sadly, that came to an end when she was pointed to move onto the next idol, who happened to be Felix.

The Australian man looked at her, having the silent realization that this was the girl he ran into the day prior, and did his best to push what happened out of his mind, since he hadn’t told anyone what had happened, and from the lack of reaction on her part, she didn’t know that they had met yesterday.

“Hello Felix!” She said, smiling from ear to ear at meeting her almost birthday twin.

“Hello! How are you? Also, your outfit is so cute! I love it!” He replied, a grin on his face.

“I’m well, and I’m very excited to be here!” She told him, her cheeks hurting as she had smiled since meeting Changbin. “Thank you! I tried to combine your and Han’s styles, and I hope I was able to do both your styles justice.” She explained.

“You did! So, how old are you?” He questioned, taking the time to sign her album.

“I’m your age, actually.” She confessed, as he looked up in slight shock.

“Wow, really?” He said.

“Yup! Actually you and I aren’t too far apart in age, birthday wise. I share a birthday with one of your members.” She replied.

“Wait, that means-” He started, before she interrupted him.

“Yeah, I do have a birthday twin within your group.” She giggled and nodded as she confirmed his thoughts.

“Oh wow! That’s so cool!” He told her.

“Yeah, it’s what made me a Stay actually. Well, and your Miroh era.” She confessed to him, blushing slightly.

They continued chatting, with Felix inquiring more about her life, and how long she’s been into K-pop among other things. Felix’s omega was practically purring at having this pretty girl’s attention only on him, plus that they got to see her again after Felix stupidly ran away yesterday.

Meanwhile, next to Felix, Minho was trying to concentrate on the Stay in front of him, but his mind and eyes kept wandering over to y/n and Felix. He couldn’t help but listen in on their conversation as he tried to keep chatting with the fan in front of him. That pull in his chest still hadn’t disappeared, and he kept questioning what exactly was drawing him to you. His alpha, however, knew exactly what was happening and was very happy about it, Minho could tell that much. His alpha kept talking about how Felix and the girl got along so well, and look how pretty they both were, and ‘Wouldn’t they look pretty together in their nest?’ Minho had to physically force himself to look away from the two of them, and push to only focus on the Stay in front of him.

During this, the two people who were the subject of Minho’s thoughts and glances were saddened when staff told them it was time for y/n to move on. Felix grabbed her hand, pleading with her not to go, to the girl’s laughter and her insistence that she must move on, to Han finally interjecting and reaching out for her hand and pulling her to the next chair.

“I heard you had a birthday twin in Stray Kids?” He inquired immediately, wanting to know.

“Hello Han. Yes I do.” She giggled at his impatience. “I’m birthday twins with you, actually. Down to the year.” She told him.

Hell yeah!” He exclaimed as Felix overheard, the Aussie pouting at how close he was to sharing a birthday.

Y/n saw Felix’s pout, and giggled as she looked over at him. He saw her giggling and playfully glared at her, only making her giggle more, which Han did as well when he saw what was making the girl in front of him giggle.

Han quickly signed his page in the album, before focusing all his attention on the girl in front of him. He wanted to know more about his birthday twin, and to learn if they had anything else in common. They did have quite a few things in common, their style being one of those things, anxiety was a second, and they also had quite similar personalities. This made the quokka a very happy man, and his omega wanted to steal the Stay away and keep them and Han was agreeable with that notion. A birthday twin to share the fun with? Yes please.

They joked about how maybe this was fate, and maybe this was why she was drawn to the group in the first place, with y/n admitting that their shared birthday is what made her interested in the first place. Han smiled, with a blush on his face at that confession. That she had found the group and gotten interested because of Felix, but was more interested that they both shared a birthday. Plus, she won the chance to be here and meet them, which was even more amazing.

As engrossed as they both were in their conversation, Chan finally leaned over and interrupted them, to inform her that it was their turn to chat. Han grabbed her hand, shaking them as he thanked her for coming and talking with him, and that she’d have to remember to wish him a happy birthday when their birthday came, to which she promised she would. She reluctantly let go of his hands, and moved over to sit in front of Chan, realizing that her time with the boys would end shortly.

“Hello there, sorry to interrupt your fun with Hannie.” He apologized, looking truly sorry to have stopped their conversation. He truly was sad that he had to do so, they loved their fans, and Jisung looked so happy as he chatted with her, and his alpha almost screamed his content at how happy this girl had made his members.

“It’s okay, I understand, don’t worry Chan.” She told him, understanding clearly heard in her voice.

He smiled at how understanding she was, starting up a conversation with her about what she was going to do while in Seoul. Inside, his alpha was trying to gain control over him, an overwhelming need coming over him to grab her and scent her, rules be damned. He wasn’t alone in this feeling, as y/n had been feeling a pull this entire time as she went down the line, but it was stronger right in front of the leader of the group, and her omega wanted nothing more than to sink into this man’s arms right here and now. She shook off her omega while he pushed away those feelings, one thinking it was just her being delusional and having read too much fanfic, while the other just chalked it up to his alpha reacting to the fact that it was a pretty girl in front of him right now.

They continued their chat like neither of them were experiencing anything, and she asked him about places to visit in Australia should she ever get to visit, and he turned it on her and asked about places to visit in Canada when they get the chance to travel there. Both parties enjoyed the conversation, almost feeling as if they were just two friends chatting, instead of idol and fan. They talked about animals as well, both of them gushing about their own animals and telling a couple of funny stories about them.

At last, y/n’s time with the boys was finally over, and it was at this point Chan realized he had never signed her album. Signaling to the staff to let him sign the album quickly before she had to leave, he did so. On a whim, and what he swears was his alpha’s idea, and not fully his, under his signature, he added his number. Quickly closing the book, he handed it to her, and waved to her as she left the stage and returned to her seat, focusing on the next fan to sit in front of him.

Y/n returned to her seat, feeling saddened after leaving the stage and the boys. She shrugged it off, just like she had with the rest of the odd feelings she’s had today and yesterday. After she got back to her seat, one of the girls in the row behind her that she had made friends with, asked her to film her meetings with the boys, and she agreed. After that, the girl in the row in front of her that filmed her interactions handed her phone back, and y/n thanked her for filming as the other girl waved off her thank yous.

Soon enough, it was the girl behind her turn to chat with the boys, and y/n started filming as she went up on stage. She noticed during her filming, that the boys glanced up in her direction a couple times, or at least her general direction, she doubted their gaze was on her specifically. She dutifully continued filming, trying to get the best video she could for the girl.

Y/n was wrong about the boys not looking right in the crowd for her. They really couldn’t help themselves, looking at her when she didn’t notice, and every time they had the chance. They had never felt so pulled towards someone like this, not since they all found each other. Y/n was feeling the same way, it almost felt like there was a rope between her and the boys, and it was trying to pull her in closer. She once again brushed it off as wishful thinking, and maybe her delusions of wanting the boys to notice her, as every Stay did. Plus, she probably just enjoyed talking to them so much that she wanted to talk with them again.

Finally, the girl she was filming for left the stage, and y/n ended the recording, handing the phone back to her once the other girl returned to her seat. She watched as the final rows got their chance to see and talk with the boys, and once everyone was back in their seats, the boys came out from behind the tables, and started goofing off again. There was a portion set aside for photos of the boys, and of course they were absolutely adorable during it. And then they decided a couple dance relays of S-Class were in order, and a part switch dance to S-Class as well, which went as well as anyone could expect. A.k.a, it was a bit of a disaster, with the boys not knowing each other's places nearly as well as they knew their own. Though, we did get to see Felix do Minho’s parts, which was amazing and everyone in the room loved it.

Before anyone knew it, the fansign was coming to an end, with the boys sadly saying goodbye to the fans. Y/n didn’t want it to end, but as they were ushered back out of the room after the boys had left the stage, she reluctantly left. She was in tears leaving the building, and felt a great sadness at leaving, and so did her omega. She wasn’t quite sure why she reacted so heavily, but as she walked back to the hotel, her emotions only grew. Because of this, she sped up her pace, wanting to disappear into her hotel room and cry in private, not wanting others to see her like this.

Once she was back in her hotel room, she locked the door, immediately taking off her shoes and any accessories, before crawling into her makeshift nest that still smelt of sadness from that morning. She let herself fall apart, crying as she curled into a ball. She wasn’t sure why she was so sad, she really wasn’t sure, but she could feel that her omega was really hurting. She cried herself to sleep, falling into a nightmare, where it was the opposite of her dream from the night before. The boys were the opposite of their sweet selves, and were hurling anything and everything negative about herself at her, and all she could do was sit there and cry as they did so.

Being shocked out of her nightmare, she sat up as she woke up, her chest heaving as she tried to regulate her breathing. She managed to do so after a couple of minutes, and trying to get her mind off of how hurtful her nightmare was, she reached for her phone.

She found the video of her interactions with the boys, and started watching it. As she watched it, she realized just how different her interactions with the boys were from the ones she had filmed for others and watched herself. They seemed much more intimate in a way, with how touchy a lot of the boys were with her. They were so much more emotive and interactive with her, it felt a little abnormal after the fact. She must have been so happy to meet them that none of it felt off to her, and really looking back, it still didn’t feel too odd, just a bit more intimate than the other fans’ interactions. She wondered why she was so different, and why her, over everyone else.

This pushed her to look through her album, and she stopped at Chan’s signature. Underneath his name, there was a number, along with a short message to text him. This had to be a joke, there was no way she was living the y/n life right now. She felt as if she had stepped into a fanfiction, because why else would Bang fucking Chan have given her, out of all people, his number?

She decided to fuck it and texted the number he gave her, and he almost immediately responds.

‘Who are you?’ He demanded.

‘I’m y/n, you gave me this number in my album that you signed today.’ She replied.

‘What did we talk about today then?’ He asked her.

‘A little bit of everything, honestly, but we did talk about our pets. You talked about Berry, and I talked about my bunny Jack and how troublesome he is.’ Y/n told him.

She also decided to send him a picture of herself, holding open his page of the album as she sat next to a clock to prove the time. Chan believed her, and told her as such. She then asks him why he decided to give her his number.

‘I watched your actions with the others and myself, and something about you and all of our interactions intrigued me. I felt there was something more to it all, and wanted to get to know you better.’ He explained, to which she was relieved it wasn’t a trick, but was also confused about how she intrigued him. She voiced those thoughts and to which he reassured her that he wasn’t tricking her, nor should she be confused about how she was interesting to him, because he honestly found her interesting from the start of their conversation at the fanmeet.

He further explained that the other members had no idea about what he had done, and he hadn’t planned on saying anything to them, unless y/n had reached out and told him it was okay to do so. Though that didn’t stop them from discussing her in the vans on the way back to the dorm, nor did it stop their discussion from spilling over into their group chat. He told her as much, and she was surprised to have made that much of an impression on them. Chan reassured her that their interactions with her were very memorable, from what he could gleam from the others’ conversations. What he didn’t tell her was that Minho had noticed Chan’s behavior, and signaled to the pack alpha that they would be talking after they arrived back at the dorm.

Soon enough the boys arrived back at the dorm, and the leader had to say goodbye for now to y/n, Minho staring him down as they walked into the building and then the elevator. The other alpha grabbed his hand as soon as the elevator doors opened, and led him through the front door of the apartment, and straight to the Aussie man’s room.

“Who are you texting? And why am I sure it’s that girl from the fansign?” Minho interrogated him, not leaving him a second to talk.

“You’re not wrong. I gave her my number.” Chan confessed.

Taglist: open!

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xiaosonlybeloved · 9 months ago

Text

Our Love is Six Feet Under- Nakahara Chuuya

featuring: Nakahara Chuuya (bsd), gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned) warnings:- angst throughout, major character death, major light novel (stormbringer) spoilers!! a/n:- my, my, this idea has actually been rotting in my brain for over a month and its my longest fic till date. i loved writing it i hope u guys like it too <33 heavily inspired by 'six feet under' by billie eilish

wc: 3k || masterlists

You feel like you’ve been through worse than hell and back when you drag your eyes open. It doesn’t take you long to assess your situation and remember what had happened to you in the first place to get you attached to a hospital bed with various machines around you.

You promptly wish you’d rather have died instead, or never woken up. Not having had to deal with the pain that stabbed your heart like a thousand serrated, unforgiving knives would be a million times better than being alive. It would have been so much better than being the only survivor.

Technically, you should feel no personal guilt over the Flags’ deaths. Its not like you had been hired to protect them, and what you had been paid to specifically do is the only thing that matters when you’re an assassin. Especially when the Port Mafia is the one who outsourced you. The blame of their deaths could, in no way, be pinned upon you.

Having feelings is what gets someone killed in the world you live in, a dark world in the deepest shadows of the city. Having an ability is no reason to be confident of yourself, not when the country is littered with ability users everywhere. And yet having an ability as unique as yours is how you managed to save yourself from the certain death brought upon you all by the King of Assassins.

It was supposed to be another normal day, right? You were off-duty, so you were hanging out with the Flags at the usual place, who you had become ‘acquainted’ with over the past few months of working together, Mori’s orders. If you could dare to curse yourself and them by calling you guys friends, you would. One of them, possibly the one you were closest with, had left for some mission with a foreign investigator, long story. So you were chilling out with the others, playing billiards and all that stuff.

If someone had told you that would be your last memory together, you would have atleast clicked a picture for keepsakes. Or you’d have cherished the moment more, rather than treating it so casually. After all, you never know the value of what you’ve lost until you’ve lost it.

In the present, you shut out your emotions- they’re too much of a storm for you to be able to deal with. The grief at their deaths, the horror at the memory of the sight, the overwhelming grief- you needed a break. You slipped back into unconsciousness, a weight lying heavy on your chest that would surely never leave you until you die.

********

The funeral seems much too loud and way too quiet at the same time, or perhaps thats just your thoughts. You’re silent in the shadows, yet again, watching the processions and the choir wordlessly. You don’t speak anything. You don’t think you have the right to.

You haven’t dared to talk to Chuuya, or even approach him. He was the only member of the Flags who was not present when Verlaine struck, and thus the only one alive. He was incredibly close to them, you know, because you yourself were close to them, to him. Barely anyone had spoken a word to him, not even the boss. His aura was such that if you even dared to approach him, you’d probably either have your lungs squashed by gravity, or his own carefully crafted facade would break down.

If, as someone who wasn’t even part of the Port Mafia or the Flags, you had been affected so badly, how was Chuuya coping? Was he? Yet, out of habit, you can’t help but keep an eye out for him. Silently, selfishly even, perhaps you’re hoping he can find it in himself to forgive you.

The foreign investigator has shown up again, looking much too cheerful for someone entering a funeral, and goes straight to Chuuya. You can feel that he’s pissed off, but a few words from Mori, and Chuuya stands up in a forced manner, going to leave with the detective.

You manage to meet his gaze finally, but you don’t think you’d ever be prepared for it. His eyes bored straight into yours, eyes that had once looked at you with mirth and laughter, and dare you say it, love, eyes that were always an open gateway to his emotions. They held nothing but silent accusations, hidden anger, all pointing their sharp ends towards you. Not a single friendly feeling.

Not a word is exchanged as he walks right past you, but there’s no need to. You’ve gotten the silent message he’s sending you crystal clear- he will never forgive you for this.

You think you deserve it fully, you understand. Even now. How twisted, really, but you got it. When he lost the Flags, he lost a part of himself too, but he still remembered you. And remembering you was a constant reminder of them, of your failure to save them, of the pain that came with.

Though it hurt you, you knew that distancing yourself from him was the best thing to do. If you pursued him again, there was no telling what he might end up doing, but it certainly wouldn’t end well. Chuuya likely knew this too, and he clearly didn’t want you to come back. So you wouldn’t. This funeral would be the last time you associated with the Port Mafia, and thus Chuuya, even if it hurt you to do so. But again, considering feelings is what gets you killed in this world, and you’d rather not die so soon, although you actually don’t mind.

And well, what did it matter if somewhere, sometime, Chuuya secretly wished you’d ask him to return?

********

Visiting their graves has become a monthly thing to you, due to your inability to let the past stay in the past. Perhaps its your own, guilty way of attempting to make amends, perhaps its your way of keeping their memory engraved in your mind, perhaps its to ensure that they aren’t forgotten, even if you know well they will never be. Deep inside, its a way for you to mourn the dead, as well as the loss of the living.

You bring flowers every time, stay a while, occasionally leave something for them. Sometimes, you talk to them, sometimes you apologise over and over again, sometimes you stay silent, letting your thoughts still for a while. If nothing else, you just stared at the small rose plants that were growing there, one behind each of the five graves. It always amazed you, that such a delicate flower could grow in such a barren place. It sure seemed like they’d be blooming soon, and whenever you visited, you always made sure to check on them.

Time passes, but the wounds do not heal from inside, they just scab over, concealing the pain at first glance. You’ve gotten better at hiding it, yes, but that does not make it any better. You’ve become stronger, risen in rank as an assassin, honed your skills further. You’ve become reputed for carrying out your tasks in a swiftly lethal, unclouded way that left no traces. Almost a year has already gone by since the incident, and you still havent forgiven yourself. Nor has Chuuya.

That’s why, on their death anniversary, when you feel his cold gaze on you for the first time in a whole year when you were at their graves, you don’t hesitate to get up and start to leave. It’s best for him to not see you again. You’ve cut off all contact with the Port Mafia, except for when you occasionally got hired by them, and even then you finished it quickly, wasting no time. Interacting with no one.

So that’s why it surprises you, when he holds up a hand, walking past you to lay the flowers on their graves. “You can stay.” He speaks emotionlessly, not looking at you. He sounds older, more mature, which was to be expected, you supposed. You remain standing where you are for a few moments, not facing him as he walks over and sits behind one of the graves. “As long as you aren’t doing anything wrong, of course.” He adds. At that, you sit in front of the grave he’s leaning against, replying quietly with a “No, I was merely paying my respects.”

It was anyways evening when you came, soon, the moon starts its ascent through the sky, as silence settles between the two of you. Not a word is exchanged between the two of you as you sit on opposite sides of the same grave, in each other’s company. The only people who could truly understand each other’s pain and suffering.

You settle for silently staring at the roses. Small buds have formed, but they don’t look well- its as if the whole plant is starting to wilt, little by little. They haven’t flowered even once yet,and you wondered if those roses would bloom before the plant died. Could they? After all, the weather was changing- it was raining more often these days. Maybe they couldn’t take it. Even now, a light drizzle had started as you sat, but it took you some time to realise, because you didn’t feel the rain at all, only noticing the faint red hue around. You didn’t mention it, nor did Chuuya.

Perhaps, whatever once could have been between you and the guy opposite you was symbolised by those roses- it could have bloomed, if given the chance, but life abandoned it, left it to wilt in the aftermath of the storm. Any possible chances for you two were like the beloved ones who had left you now- six feet under the ground, dead, marked by a grave. This was merely the hand that fate dealt you, you had no choice but to accept it

********

“I can’t see the moon tonight.”. You murmur, almost to yourself, as you remain seated against the graves. It had been years, and even till now, neither of you had stopped coming to the grave to pay your respects, you arriving first every time and waiting for him. Your own visits weren’t monthly anymore due to life, more sporadic, but you still did visit from time to time, and you know Chuuya did too. And every year, on the fateful day that the incident happened, both of you never failed to show up, at the same time. Sometimes you exchanged a few words of greeting, a line or two about life. Other times you sat in silence till the moon’s glow started to dim, leaving as noiselessly as you came. Over time, this became your and Chuuya’s last remaining shared tradition out of all those that used to exist, your last link to each other. Seems like none of you was truly able to stay away from the other after all, huh?

“Say, Chuuya, next year, can you check for me whether the moon is visible or not? I feel like there really is something different about it on this day.” You ask him. He curtly replies, “Yeah no, you can do it yourself when you come back here. There’s no big deal about it anyways.” There’s no real bite in his words though, but it still saddens you. You wave it aside though, as you stare at the rose plants, like you always do.

Over the years, those roses have wilted, died, and new plants have grown in their place. Not a single one of them ever bloomed though. You want to ask Chuuya to check on those plants next year too, but you don’t.

Tired from your day at work- it was more hectic and dangerous than usual- you lean against Chuuya’s shoulder. He remains motionless- he doesn’t push you away, but he certainly doesn’t pull you closer either. This is another thing you developed over the years- if either of you felt like you needed a shoulder on that day, the other would offer it. And you wanted to do it one last time.

Eventually, you two get up and brush yourselves off, preparing to part ways. You can’t help but let your gaze linger on Chuuya’s for a second more than usual as you open up your umbrella- it always does rain on this day, but today it seemed a bit gentler yet stronger- as if the skies were quietly lamenting over what was to come.

Right before he left, he quietly spoke, the whisper floating between you. “Don’t think everything’s alright between us, because it isn’t.” He always does say something like this before he leaves every time, and again, there’s no real bite or meaning behind those words, just a formality he wishes to continue.

You let a sad smile rest on your face as you gazed at him, before responding, “Don’t worry, I know.”

“Take care, Chuuya.”

As you started walking off alone, feeling Chuuya’s eyes still on you, ensuring your safety like the gentleman he was, you wondered if you had truly tied all the remaining loose ends of your thread of life, or did you still have regrets? It was very likely- no one could say they died without any regrets at all. And besides, no one’s end was written in stone, unless they carved it themselves. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was ever all too much for you.

The next morning, you call your boss to let him know that you’re ready to take on the mission. It was an important one, involving both a long period of infiltration for gathering valuable intel, and then the assassination of the target at the end. It was a high-risk mission too, but you were used to those, weren’t you?

Why would this mission be any different?

*********

Another year rolled past. This year, Chuuya hadn’t been able to visit the graves at all after the first two-three months because he had been sent overseas for a long-term mission. During the months he’d been in Yokohama, he hadn’t caught a glimpse of you- of course he hadn’t, he made sure to avoid the days you came, preferring to merely see the traces of yourself you left and leaving his own. After that he only got the chance to return there on their next death anniversary, and even for that he had to fight tooth and nail. He was a man of actions, and he would never be the one to break the tradition.

But he’d never imagined that you would break it either. You too were a person who valued actions, or had you changed over the years?

His sharp eyes scanned the graves cautiously, but there was not a single trace of you. The only life around were the rose plants, not a soul in sight.

Rage, resentment and hints of sorrow bubbled up in him, taking him by storm as he strode over and angrily sat down by one of the graves. He was silent the entire night, letting his rush of emotions subside, staring at the gates as if he was expecting you to suddenly pop out. He stared at the moon, and at the roses. Did you not notice that they were about to bloom when you last visited? Because they were in full bloom that night, for the first time in years, delicate, fragrant petals shining in the moonlight. The moon, too, looked beautiful that night, a full moon surrounded by clouds. It was raining, heavier than usual, but the moon was never hidden. A memory entered his mind- last year, you had asked him to check whether the moon was visible this year.

“Well, it’s visible, and it sure is beautiful, but you didn’t even show up. Why?” He bitterly spoke out loud.

In the soft blowing wind that accompanied the rain, a stray lone rose petal lying on the ground gently floated in air, appearing as ethereal as smoke. He rose up to leave- you clearly weren’t showing up- eyes following the petal as it blew about, landing on a grave not of the Flags, but right beside, almost as if the deceased had specifically asked it to be there. It seemed relatively new too, for he hadn’t seen it the last time he’d been here. He walked over to it, to read what was written on the gravestone.

A moment passed, then another. And another. And Chuuya doesn’t know how long he spent there, kneeling in front of it. He was slowly getting drenched, because his ability had deactivated itself at some point of the night, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was the neatly written words staring back at him, taunting him.

At some point, he understood why he was alone that night. Why you weren’t there to give him company, solace that night. It was because you couldn’t, and so you’d left whatever remained of yourself there, beside him, beside them, eternally. He just hadn’t known.

He could barely breathe, he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to, because his chest felt so heavy then. Eventually, he noticed where the petal had landed- it was a small letter, slightly wet and yellowed, kept in such a way that the rain wouldn’t destroy it. Someone must have kept it there on your request, and so he took it out, eyes taking in the faintly smudged but still intelligible words.

‘I’m sorry, Chuuya, for everything. I hope you can forgive me someday, even if I myself never could. Thank you for staying with me, for existing.

-Love, [Y/N]’

A silent tear slipped out of his eye, then another. “Idiot.” he whispered, voice cracking. “You’ve always been too hard on yourself. I think I forgave you a long time ago, I guess I just never wanted to acknowledge it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being too late.”

“And don’t worry, the moon looks beautiful tonight, and so do the roses. They’ve finally bloomed. I think you would have loved to see them, wouldn’t you?”

this took me ages to write, but i hope u like it hehehe anyways votes, reblogs and comments are really very much appreciated <333

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hopefulromances · 9 months ago

Note

Could you write a Roy or Jamie fic with a female character who is anxious and maybe doesn’t feel confident or good enough for them? Thank you 🥰

This one has sat in my inbox for like 8 weeks? Just cause i am an anxious non-confident person and wrote and rewrote this one like 10 times i think. I've been going through a pretty deep depression and have no self esteem and rlly wanted to do this one justice. So i hope you enjoy!

There was a soft rumbling of thunder outside. Jamie rushed in the front door, shaking his hair back and forth to get the wet rain off of it. It was the off-season, which meant no day training, but Roy still came by at 4am and again at 5pm for a run and workout. They'd cut their training short today because of the rain. It was one day off, Roy figured they could both use the break.

Jamie slipped off his shoes and padded back upstairs, excited to slip back into the warm bed with you. When he opened the door, his heart melted at the sight. There you were, curled up in bed with his pillow cuddled tightly to your chest. Your nose was shoved right into the pillowcase, getting as much of Jamie's scent as possible.

He smiled, softly, tiptoeing over to the side of the bed,and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He wanted to get in right now, but you would kill him if he got in with his rain wet clothes on.

He rushed through a quick shower before throwing his boxers on. You were still fast asleep, holding on tightly to his pillow. It was so sweet he could die. Instead, he carefully untangled your limbs from the pillow and let you rest your head on his chest instead. Your body immediately recognized his warmth and wrapped themselves around him tightly.

"Jamie? You're home?" You're sleep heavy voice spoke up.

"Hi, love," Jamie cooed, pushing your hair off your face. "Grandad couldn't handle the rain."

"Was afraid you were gone forever," you murmured, not quite awake.

Jamie frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Always afraid you won't come back," you answered, before falling right back into your deep sleep.

While you snuggled into closer to him, Jamie felt himself struck by what you said. Did you really mean that? You weren't sure if he'd come back? He held you tighter, kissing the top of your head.

He did fall asleep eventually, after holding on to you for as long as he could before drifting off. What woke him was your lips on his face, kissing his jaw then his cheek, getting him awake enough to meet you as you reached his lips.

"Morning, Jay," you greeted, smiling as he opened his eyes.

"Morning, Beautiful," he grumbled, pulling you back down to his lips. It wasn't often that you could wake up together. These sacred moments in the morning waking up to a lazy kiss, they were cherished by Jamie. When you pulled back he kept his hand on your cheek, skimming his fingers over your cheek.

"Why are you afraid I won't come back?"

He didn't want to ruin the moment. But looking at you in this moment, he couldn't imagine ever wanting to leave you. He didn't want you to live in fear of him living.

"What?" you pulled away from him.

"When I came back this morning," he explained, sitting up in the bed. "You said you were afraid I wouldn't come back. "

He watched your face as your processed what he said. "I was... I was probably dreaming I have no idea what you're talking about."

You sat up as well, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Jamie followed, sitting behind you. He brought his hands to your shoulders, digging his thumbs into your back.

"But it's true, isn't it?" he asked, softly, kissing your neck where it met your shoulder.

"Jamie..."

"Please, talk to me," he insisted, pulling you so you were facing him on the bed.

You wouldn't meet his eyes. You stared straight down at the bed sheets, tugging at a loose string. He pushed your chin up to meet his eyes. He saw the sparkle of unshed tears and it broke his heart.

"You could just- fuck- you could do so much better than me." You voice broke as you spoke. "And I know that you've dated models and athletes and, jesus, I'm fucking... I'm nothing."

"(Y/N), what are you-"

"I'm not skinny and fit, I sit in here all day waiting for motivation to do something worthwhile. And you're out there, being fantastic, and amazing, and everytime you leave I'm just waiting for you to realize that. Or meet someone else who's better and just... never come back."

Jamie genuinely felt speechless. He couldn't remember the last time he'd even looked at anyone else the way he looked at you. How could you... how did you not see.

"You think I'm going to leave you?" He really just needed to confirm.

"Jamie, don't make fun of me."

"No, no, no, I'm not, I'm just," he let out a laugh. "I just need to make sure I know what you're saying." You shrugged, wiping at your nose. "Oh, babe, c'mere."

He pulled you into his chest. You clung onto him, letting his arms pull you into his lap. He was so strong and solid. You rested your head on his chest as he pulled your legs across his thighs.

"I'm not leaving you, ever," Jamie whispered, resting his temple on your head. "I can't leave you." You closed your eyes, kissing his chest. "I love you so much. You're all I want. All I need. And if I need to say that to you everyday to remind you I will."

You held him tightered, your arms tight around his waist as he collected you and laid back against the leopard print headrest.

"Please believe me," he said so quietly. Like he was begging, pleading with you to feel the depth of his love for you. "Please."

You nodded minutely. And maybe you were just pleasing him. But from that moment on he'd make it his goal to make sure you knew just how much he loved you. Make sure that when he left, he'd always find his way back home.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fanfiction #request #hopefulromances requests #anon #anonymous

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yeeterthek33per · 1 year ago

Text

It hurts (but I've got you)(Katrina Gorry x reader)

A/n I'm gonna warn everyone right now. This one is gonna get dark. It's a fresh loss, and I'm feeling ridiculously angsty. Warnings include mental illness, unaliving mentions, past abuse, self degradation, and panic attack warnings. and some seriously dark thoughts. A lot of mentions of trauma coping. Seriously, do not read if you guys can't cope with it or if it triggers you.

Also, this isn't the only Gorry fic I'm writing atm 😅

----------

It felt like you knew the moment your fiancee had been subbed off that this game was it.

3-1 down with just 3 minutes left of regulation time. Even with stoppage, nothing felt like enough. None of you were processing Tony's yells from the sideline, none of you could feel the rush you needed to.

And they just kept coming at you. The exhaustion was setting in and nobody could keep up with them anymore.

Sam couldn't get the touches she needed to.

Mackenzie wasn't communicating well with the girls at the back, and they weren't aggressing like they needed to

You felt helpless in the chaos, despite being in the midfield. Your passes weren't connecting, and every touch you had felt like it was a turnover to England.

It felt like Chidi wasn't being given enough time to work her magic. The English defence was reduced to several layers of blue. None of the strikers up front had the energy to challenge that.

Steph was completely out of it, Caitlin was trying, but she didn't have the strength.

In the end, none of your attempts were enough, and it was weighing on you like a pile of bricks. You felt sick. To the point where your sobs nearly turned to dry heaving.

You'd collapsed to the turf the moment the whistle blew. Hiding your head in your knees, you avoided any possible camera angles of your face, not wanting to be seen losing it like you were.

You could barely budge when you felt a hand on your back.

Everything was just overwhelming... not processing, but still somehow all setting in at once.

You felt several pats on the back over the course of a couple of minutes. You assumed the England players. Proven when you heard your old teammate Alessia, rubbing your back and mumbling to you how proud she was of you, especially watching you play throughout the cup.

You could barely acknowledge the blonde though.

Everything was screaming in your ears, all the pressure, the deafening silence of the crowd aside from the few England fans that did show up, the players off the side of the pitch yelling and celebrating.

The first person to force you out of your shell, though, was Katrina. She's knelt in front of you and tugs at your arms, pulling them from around your head and urges you into her embrace. You meet her eyes enough to see the tears, and that just sends you further. You feel like you failed her.

It didn't feel like enough. Nothing you did during that game was enough. Her voice is shaky but it's soothing enough to get you to slow your tears, but it's just piling up behind walls in your head at this point. It's being boxed up and padlocked.

Your first reflex is to apologise. And you do.

"I'm so sorry, it wasn't enough, I wasn't trying hard enough, I failed you."

Katrina feels her own heart crack a little further, hearing those words come from you. You'd played your heart out this entire world cup.

You were exhausted. You all were. But you couldn't see that you were doing all you could. It hurt more than anything to know you were blaming yourself for this. Though she fully expected it. You were still learning to process losses like this. She was hoping you'd made enough progress in case a loss like this happened.

It was something you'd both been working on. It's one of your childhood traumas. Losses were ingrained into you like life failures. You'd been taught from a young age that failure was never an option. That it resulted in beatings.

That it meant you should die.

That was something that you'd ingrained into yourself as a coping mechanism while you were still with your foster family.

Katrina knew of the abuse, but she didn't know much about the state of your mental health. It was something you'd only recently opened up with. Little by little, but not a lot.

It bounced around your head like a mantra.

You failed, it's over.

You failed.

You're gently brought back out of your head, Katrina's hands on either side of your face, her thumb caressing your cheek, her forehead leant against yours.

"Look at me, baby, breathe, just listen to me, okay? You're in your head too much. Just listen to me and try to breathe with me. C'mon baby, you can do it. Come back to me."

You try to match her breathing. You hadn't even realised the panic attack had hit you.

Your chest was heaving, and you managed to slow it down a little.

"That's it, my sweet girl. You've got it."

You try to take in her words.

Just breathe.

You're a failure.

You're okay.

You've got this.

You fucking useless-.

Just breathe Y/n.

Breathe.

It's okay.

You're safe.

"That's it, you're safe here, Baby. You did so well."

Her lips press a kiss to your forehead.

"That's it, baby girl. You did it. I'm so proud of you."

Her hands shift to your neck to rub at it gently. Her nails scratch at the skin lightly, and you let it distract you. Your breathing is finally relaxed enough to let her pull you to your feet.

You almost can't bring yourself to look around. But you pick up your head and take a deep breath as Katrina keeps you looking at her.

"That's it, Y/n, that's it."

You close your eyes and take a final deep breath, and then meet her eyes again. You feel guilty for dropping this on her right now. Now is not the time for her to need to comfort you.

So you stone wall it back and fake a little relaxation in her arms.

"I'm good, I'm good, I'm okay. I-...I'm"

Sorry. I'm sorry.

You didn't say it out loud, but her face immediately shifts, and it seems you don't have to. It's almost like she can read your mind.

"Hey, no, uh uh. None of that, you don't need to apologise to me. You're my girl, and you're allowed to be vulnerable around me. I'm always gonna be here for you. Don't ever apologise for not being able to handle things on your own."

You let out a shaky breath, tilting your head back, blinking back any tears.

You've got this.

You nod, whiping away tears.

She rubs your shoulder softly. And you finally manage to look around at your teammates. A few of them are still just... sitting... contemplating the game.

Sam in particular. She looks like she's holding it in just about as much as you are, although more than likely a little better. The disappointment is still fresh in her eyes, though, and you can't quite face your best friend just yet. So you move to hug the others.

Katrina follows behind you a little. Not directly, but enough to keep a close eye on you as you console the girls. Charli and Kyra stick by her as well. The two of them had been the first to go to her after the whistle blew.

Though they do come find you after a few minutes. You were marrying their practically adoptive mother, after all. That and you were family to them as well.

Charli is the first to reach you. You let her hold you for a few minutes, and you rub at her back as well.

"Thanks, Cha Cha, I'm sorry you didn't get the chance to play today like we'd hoped."

She shakes her head.

"Doesn't matter. You all played the best you could today. I'm so proud of each and every one of you."

Your eyes well up a little bit, but you suck it back in.

"I know."

She ruffles your hair a little bit, managing a small goofy smile, and it gives you enough to let out a watery laugh.

"Atta girl."

It gets a little easier to breathe after that. And you find it easier to approach Kyra too.

"Hey, kiddo."

"I'm sorry it had to end like this."

"Not your fault, Ky. You played the best you could today."

You're quick to envelope her, too, pulling her into your chest, resting your head on hers. She's a little shaky but she's coping.

You both start to walk the pitch after that. Beginning to applaud the crowd for their support throughout the tournament.

It still stings. You know it will for a while. But each step is an easier breath. For now at least.

But at that, with each step comes a new echo in your head that you have to push down. It helps having your family there with you. Your real family.

You don't even register the huddle or the locker room talk.

When you get on the bus, Katrina is quick to shove her way into the seat beside you. Not that she has to, really. There's this unspoken rule about the team. Katrina is always next to you after a loss. They know it's for good reason, but they never pry or ask why.

By the time you're back to the team hotel. Its late and everybody returns to their own rooms.

You try convincing Katrina that you'll be fine, that you're just tired, but she's adamant about staying in your room. She reads you like an open book. Truthfully, you definitely aren't fine, and being on your own is not something she's wants for you right now. Harper is with Linda, Katrina's mother, thankfully, so she doesn't have to see this.

You go to join her in saying goodnight to her daughter, but she tells you to stay put for now. You can see her tomorrow.

You almost whine saying you missed the two year old, but you know not to push it, and you know you aren't in the right headspace to be around her right now.

You get ready for bed, and it only takes ten minutes for your girl to return again.

"She's doing fine, a little confused why Cha Cha didn't wanna play Aeroplane tonight, but she went down without much fuss."

You smiled a little at that, Harps was such an easygoing kid. It was hard not to fall in love with such a sweet little thing. Being in love with her mother certainly didn't help prevent that either.

"I'm glad she's doing okay then."

Katrina swaps out her (your) hoodie for one of your sleep shirts and strips down to just underwear.

"I think we'd both be a little better if her mama was too, though." It's not even subtle. You know she's not trying to be. She never is. She's gentle about it, though.

"What do you mean? I'm perfectly fine." It's said in a joking tone, but the unimpressed brow you get makes you feel a little guilty for that one.

"You want to talk about what happened?"

"Want to or want to?"

"You have to want to talk about it before we get anywhere. I won't force it out of you, I know it's still so fresh, but you need to want to before we can talk, sweetheart."

You sigh a little, resting against the wall behind the bed. You think about it for a minute. Before ultimately deciding to just hold on to it for a bit longer.

"Not just yet."

She nods in understanding.

"I'm here when you're ready baby."

"Maybe in the morning, it's just a little more tender than I'd like."

You still feel bad, though. Katrina played the same game you did. Lost the same game you did. Yet you couldn't handle it the same way.

You slip under the covers, and she joins you, slipping under, on her side and behind, spooning you. Her arm tucks itself over your waist, pulling you back into her shorter self. In that moment, you let her warmth lull you to sleep, thoughts of regret and guilt still plaguing your mind.

-------

It's weird. You've never seen Sam mad like this before. She's always been a relatively calm captain. Even after losses this big. You'd never seen her raise her voice at another teammate. Sure, sometimes people do stupid shit, and she has to pull them aside to speak with them, or lightly scold them, and that usually works, but...

Here you were.

She'd asked you to come to the meeting room downstairs first thing this morning. She's been yelling at you for the past five minutes. With each sentence, you just shrink, smaller and smaller, and it's like you're back on the pitch again.

"How could you let this happen?! Why did it take eight of you to let them through?! After all that hard work? How hard is it to keep them out?!"

"I-"

"How hard is it?! You're a defensive midfielder. You should know you have to keep them out, and you failed me!"

"Sam I-."

"You fucking let me down, I am absolutely fucking disgusted with you y/l. Why did you think it was okay?!"

"Sam, I'm sorry I-"

"'Sorry' isn't a fucking excuse, you knew you couldn't let us lose and you fucking let me down. You let them all down, you fucking failed us."

You're sobbing at this point, barely able to get a word in. You're curled up in the corner of the room, and Sam is standing over you. You can barely register the feel of artificial turf beneath you as the blaring lights of the stadium nearly blind you.

She's still yelling, but it's like she's muffled now.

Off to the side even.

You look up around you. She's still yelling, but you can't hear her over the crunching of grass beneath a pair of leather loafers. It screams in your ears, almost painfully. You know those sounds all too well.

Your foster father walks towards you slowly, with purpose. His belt bent and tucked back into his hand again.

"What did I tell you would happen, Jessica?"

It makes you tremble, and your body is rooted to the spot. You feel like you can't move. He always tried to force the name on you. Your foster mother just let it happen.

You open your mouth to protest, but all that comes out are more sobs and half met pleas. He's standing right over you now. His arm raises the belt in the air. And right before he brings it down. You see the angry and disappointed faces of everyone. Sam still yelling.

Steph, Caitlin, Charli, Kyra, Ellie. Katrina stands on her own, shaking her head at you. She turns away right as the belt comes down.

-----

Your eyes blink open. You feel the stickiness of dried tears on your face, fresh ones replacing them quickly.

You have to take a quick few breaths to gather your surroundings again.

It's okay. You're in your room. He's not here to hurt you.

Katrina's arm is looser around your waist now. You're tucked into her front but on your back now, and she's dead asleep on the pillow beside yours.

It's okay.

You're safe.

How could you let this happen?

Fucking dumbass.

Worthless piece of-.

That's all it takes for you to carefully slip out from under the covers. Careful not to jostle your sleeping fiancee. You couldn't get the look of disappointment on her face out of your head.

She'd looked completely done with you. She couldn't even look at you. She was so disappointed.

Tears were still flowing from your eyes. Your breathing was starting to become more rapid as you slipped out of the room's door, a small click behind you as you shut it.

You couldn’t stay here.

That was all you could think about. There was no way security would let out at this hour without questions, so you have to find a back door.

You sneak into what looks like an old busted fire escape hall. There's an old alarm attached to it, but it's not even enabled, you having prepared to bolt if it had gone off if you were wrong about it. You'd heard one of the staff talking about it needing replacing soon and that they'd disable it until it could be fixed.

Your socked feet are quiet, but slip on the tile floors as you walk out the back door. Looks like the alarm isn't enabled from the inside. You duck out quickly and just run down the road. You keep running. It's dark out still. You didn't even check the time before running off.

But it doesn't matter.

The thoughts in your head are spinning. Everything's just crashing down on you. You're curled up in an alleyway, beside a dumpster.

Fucking useless piece of crap.

You couldn't keep them out?

You're worthless.

You-

It's all just echoing around, piling in your head. Your head is between your knees as you rock back and forth.

It-

It scares the shit out of you when a pair of hands carefully rests on your shoulders.

You let out a little scream, not expecting anyone to have followed you. It's Katrina. You're relieved for a second but quickly tense again.

Shit, you hadn't meant to wake her on the way out.

"Hey, it's okay, it's just me. Im sorry I scared you."

She's hesitant to speak at first, processing what she's going to say, you assume. So you speak first.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

She shakes her head at that.

"Baby, that's not the problem. In fact, I'd rather you have woken me up... baby, what's going on? What's happening in that head of yours? Talk to me, why are we out here?"

"I-." Your voice is shaky, and you have to clear your throat. Your eyes drift to look anywhere but at her.

Her fingers on your chin bring your gaze back though.

"Look at me. What's going on?"

Your words are mumbled softly, like you're trying to force them out, but they just let out almost inaudibly. Thankfully, traffic outside had calmed down in the earlier hours of the morning. So she does hear you when you say it.

"It was just a bad dream, i needed some air."

Her face softens, but she's still sceptical. Thankfully, she doesn't have to prompt you further. Everything just feels so kept up. You let it out slowly, but the more you talk, the more tears that flow out to join the words whispered.

"It's just... God, I feel so stupid. It's not like everyone around me isn't dealing with the same shit."

She's silent as you try and process what to say.

"I- everything's just collapsing in on itself, it feels like... I know it's not the end for me, or for us as a team, but..." There's a little understanding dawning on her face. "Everything in my head has just been crumbling lately. Yesterday, just kind of, I don't know? Completed that? Compiled it? I don't know. It just built and built and built and everything's just being thrown back at me again."

"So that dream...?" She urges gently.

"Was just everything compiling in one go."

"Do you want talk about what happened in it?"

"I-not here, I won't make us have this conversation beside a dumpster."

Katrina laughs a little, letting her hand come up to hold your cheek. "Fuck baby, we could have this conversation on the edge of a cliff and I would still sit and listen. Whereever you wanna be my sweet girl."

You let yourself lean into the warmth of her hand, the cold now having started to seep into you as you're sitting down on the concrete.

You nod quickly. "Let's go. My ass is starting to freeze." She chuckles and pulls you to your feet gently.

Thankfully, Katrina had half the mind to leave the access door unlatched, and you sneak back into the hotel with little to no trouble.

Back in the darkness of the hotel room, you're leant back into her, sitting between her legs on the bed. Her hands run through your hair, gently scratching at your scalp as you replay the events of the nightmare.

"It was so daunting, and it just kept finding its way into my head, and just... god... I love Sam... and I know she would never, but... it just felt so real."

"And it just kept going. It just devolved into... well. My old foster dad... he just..."

Tears started to well up, and you couldn't finish it after that. The words wouldn't come out. At your hesitation, Katrina is quick hush you, pressing her lips to your temple.

"It's okay, baby, you don't have to say it. I'm so sorry you have to deal with that."

"S'not your fault, just my stupid brain."

" Your brain is just trying to help you process the loss, okay? You've suffered so much, and it's okay to be grieving and dealing with it how you need to deal with it."

You lean your head back against her shoulder, letting the tears fall. God, you didn't deserve this woman. She was an amazing mother, a brilliant football player, and an amazing soon to be wife, too. She doesn't wipe the tears away this time, and you let them go.

Instead, she holds you. She lets you cry into her.

She lets you cry into the super early hours of the morning before you finally manage to exhaust yourself into a heavy sleep, tucked between her arms and her whispering sweet nothings, soft praises, and promises of forever with you as you do.

"I know it hurts, baby girl, but we're all here for you, and I've got you, and I'm not gonna let go in a hurry or ever."

You may not be able to tell her everything yet, but she sure as hell would make sure she was there to listen when you do.

#katrina gorry x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso

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yayll · 3 months ago

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Hiii i hope you're feeling better soon :(( I was wondering if I could request a Dazai x reader fic where the reader has PTSD? Specifically, the beginning of autumn kind of triggers her (sorry if it's a confusing i dunno how to word it lol) Could it be fluff/comfort? Btw I love your writing style so badly so pls tweak the idea if you think it would work better! And no worries if you'd rather pass :33

hii angel i genuinely am sorry that this took me a while! (work and life happened a little more than usual, GOT SICK and barely had time to sit down and write.) it was so ivover but i am fine now thank u so much bub!

i REALLY hope you like this and that it's what u wanted, i've never written someone w PTSD before and i was just rlly hoping i didn't mess this characterization up for ur request ahhh. i had such a nice time writing it and i rlly wanted to explore the impact it could have around reader and dazai and him going out of his way even if it could be a little goofy and sappy to make u feel at least a little better even if u can't talk abt it.

i love uuuu thank u again! <3

~ a little something about Dazai noticing harmful patterns and loving you through them ~

He's been watching you sit by the window for the past half hour as you stare at what seems like the beginning of the new season outside. You were quieter than usual, more withdrawn and jumpy, which could only mean that you weren't sharing something with him- or rather having trouble processing something to the point where you didn't realize he could tell something inside you was on high alert.

Dazai would rather die than see you in such a state, especially during what's supposed to be such an exciting time of the year that's full of the things you usually love to do. Whatever is impeding you from enjoying the leaves falling has to be dealt with the most delicate of methods, but especially with love. If you taught him anything about the past haunting you to the point of mental distress, something he suffered bouts of every now and then when memories made days grow dark, it's that all you need is one person to truly witness you. Just like how you've seen the ugliest parts of him time and time again yet you still look at him with all the stars in the sky, stars he consumes like a black hole waiting to be filled.

Luckily for you, he has an arsenal of things he can try to soothe you with, because he wouldn't be a good detective AND boyfriend if he didn't keep all those context clues in his pocket for a bad day. Mainly though, he was just completely attuned to your every need. You are his happiness, and your wellness isn't up for debate: It's mandatory. He stands up from the loveseat with a deep exhale as he walks over to you, his lips curled in a lazy smile as he tests the waters to see what you could need from him without asking.

"You know, if you stay any more still I could probably paint you like one of those fancy paintings. What do you say, be my model?"

You look over at him from the window, and he can visibly tell you haven't been at ease lately. He suddenly realizes he's just fallen even more in love with you. That there is nothing in this world that could ever let him see you as anything but his heart.

You murmur, a faint smile decorating your serene face.

"Mm, I'm not sure. I don't think I could pose for that long, you know? It would probably be hard to catch my likeness, heh."

He clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes with a playful smirk. Oh how he wants to lean in and worship your likeness with his loving touch, but he decides to take it easy on the physical affection for now, not until he knows you're feeling up for it. He can be a good boy, something he usually isn't.

"Well, I wouldn't mind being the brave young knight who tries~ Shall we take this outside for better lighting?"

You instantly don't give him a good reaction to that. You shrug, seeming conflicted and unsure of yourself, but unable to really bring yourself to explain with words, something uncharacteristic of you.

No problem! Dazai thinks to himself. If you don't want to go outside, he can bring outside to you in the comfort of home. He'll enhance your safe space, and tailor it to just what you need. He hums, tapping his temple in an exaggerated manner as if he were thinking really hard and when he sees that it gets a small giggle out of you, he knows he's on the right track.

"Hm, I know what we should do instead. Wait here, angel.~"

He disappears into the hallway and you sit there as the sound of cabinets opening and rummaging around fills the air. You smile to yourself, and shake your head at the mental image of Dazai becoming a tornado to find whatever he's looking for right now, hoping he doesn't make too much of a mess. You fidget with your hair, twirling it in between your fingers as you take a deep grounding breath while you wait.

A moment later, he comes back with what seems like art supplies and a ton of mini candlesticks.

He knows you're intrigued when you tilt your head in confusion, but then again that's probably just the confusion... Dazai sets down two canvases along with the candles, flashing you a mischievous grin. If you couldn't process your feelings through words, art was always there! You look over the activities he's laid out for you both, awaiting his silver tongued explanation.

"You know when I want to be the little spoon but I don't say anything?"

You laugh softly, and nod.

"Mhm, you get all moody and weird."

He nods back, a half smile on his face as he rests his hands on his hips. He wants to tell you that the only reason he even knew such intimate luxuries is because you showed him that he's worthy of it, of being loved, but he doesn't say anything. He lets the sweet memories between you swim through his mind as fuel for the day he's trying to create for you. His voice sounds more like he's talking out loud now, lost in a thought..

"You make me moody and weird. You also make me want to grab your soft little face and just..."

He then snaps back to the moment, and his tone picks up.

"... But alas, there is no time to waste! Come, sit, I'll get the other things ready.~"

He zooms off to the kitchen, and your heart softens at how much he fusses over you, though you also hope you aren't being too much. You know he'd hate to hear that, so you simply sit down and look over the supplies you had honestly forgotten you had.

Dazai makes tea, because he knows it helps with your fidgeting and you like how the mug feels in your hands, he also begins to set the candle sticks all over the living room, lighting them one by one. You flash him a look of faint concern.

"Feels like Dracula's castle. You sure this is safe, Osamu?"

He simply grins impishly.

"It's called 'mood lighting', cutie. There is an atmosphere to be created!"

"Yeah, and possibly a wildfire."

"Boo, you're no fun. Besides, that sounds like a problem for future us. We live in the moment."

Dazai would never risk your safety and you know that, which is why you don't push the topic any further.

You two settle in, the candles illuminating you both with a warm flame that feels more comforting than you'd like to admit, you feel yourself becoming more immersed in the random little doodles and brush strokes you create as you both talk for hours about literally nothing while sipping on your tea. Nothing feels nice, for once and Dazai can see it in the way you slowly become less and less tense. So mindful, so beautiful.

After you fill your canvas, you set it down, and peer over at Dazai's.

"What'd you paint?"

He smiles sheepishly, and hides his.

"Not finished yet. No peeking!"

He stands up and in one swift motion, runs outside, while leaving you bewildered at the spontaneity of the situation. A few moments later, he runs back inside, huffing with his arms behind his back. He sits back down on the floor with you, criss crossed. He grabs his canvas, and puts something on it as he slowly unveils his work to you.

It's a single crisp leaf he must have plucked from the grass when it fell, the orange and reddish hue placed on the canvas that shows a cartoonishly painted tree as well. He murmurs, eyes trained lovingly on you but with that familiar playful tone.

"I wanted you to get a little air. It's good for one's mood, you know."

You slowly take the leaf, and twiddle it in your thumb as you begin to smile to yourself. You mutter back.

"The weather changes, moods change, it's so overwhelming sometimes..."

He slowly leans in a little closer and places a hand on the small of your back, inching you closer to him too. He wants to distract you from those thoughts affecting you, but it's getting harder when all he can think about is how much you affect him. He whispers.

"My mood never changes, you're the most precious thing I have ever seen all year round."

You look up at him, your eyes communicating what you feel, and he picks up on it with a silent confirmation. You hold each other's gaze for a long quiet moment and when you feel ready you lean into his chest, nuzzling into him. He envelops you in a hug that feels like the remedy you've been searching for this whole time, and it almost brings you to tears. You don't know it also does the same to him. He gives you a soft squeeze and leans down to your ear, his warm breath feeling like the way life is supposed to feel. You mumble, your voice slightly muffled against him.

"Thank you, Osamu. Love you."

He smiles at that. To be something so soothing to you, to be of use for once in his life, it's a feeling that he could never describe. He'll have to find the words when he covers you in kisses from head to toe later, when he makes sure you feel the full extent of his devotion to you through thick and thin. He exhales deeply.

"Change of season, change of mind... It doesn't matter to me. It's still you. It will always be you."

#i like soft dazai i NEED soft dazai #he's learned through you how to cultivate and nurture a relationship even if he doesnt always know what to so to help #but he sure has an archive in his brain on you and thats enough for him to use #HE IS SILLY AND SAPPY AND GOOFY AND ALSO ALWAYS BRAIN ROTTED THINKING ABT YOU #also respecting ur boundaries if ur going through a tough time when it comes to physixal touch that was important to me #he is a grabby little freak but he knows when and where to do that #he loves u THATS IT #softzai domestizai mwah #THANK U FOR THIS REQUEST ANON U SWEET ANGEL #was kinda thinking abt twilight new moon when i wrote this that segment where bellas absolutely catatonic by her window except...#she has no edward to comfort her wjdjejnd what a freak #bungou stray dogs #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #anon #dazai x you #osamu dazai x reader #bsd x reader #dazai imagines #dazai fluff #dazai osamu #requests #bungo stray dogs #gn reader #asks #fanfic #bsd fluff #osamu dazai fluff

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shelter-maki0 · 1 year ago

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I have finally finished my series of fanfic art! I originally tried my hand at fanfic novel in order to these draw arts. (I like drawing)This was a personal activity I undertook for myself. It was my first experience writing a novel, and I made a lot of mistakes.

Since we're on the subject, let me introduce to the contents of my wrote fic.

This fic utilizes the Time-Turner from The Cursed Child, and it's about a 40-year-old Harry who is sent back to the 1940s in an accident. Harry will be working as a DADA professor at Hogwarts.

Harry shouldn't change the past. Just like the lesson demonstrated in Cursed Child. Harry's looks for a way back to the future, watching over Myrtle's death and Tom's misdeeds in order not to change the future. And I added another idea to it.

Harry's soul wants to let Tom's soul back inside, which he has held for many years. It's an impulse that happens regardless of Harry's will, and they're attracted to each other against their will.

The idea was inspired by Harry's realization in Cursed Child that he is still mentally trapped by Voldemort. What if he was not only trapped in spirit, but also in soul? I thought that idea very hot. (The fact that Harry was still mentally trapped by Voldemort as an adult drove me crazy🥵)

Harry watches over Tom's misdeeds, but in the process, Harry and Tom form a bond that's hard to separate. It was a bond that transcended the attraction between souls.

However Harry loves his family and friends, so he faces many conflicts. Tom&Harry grow up with each other's struggles and problems, The two fall in love. This is also the story of Tom discovering what love is.

Tom in this fic is not a psychopath. Tom grows spiritually in this story, but in the end, Harry erases his memories of that growth.

It's because the future must not be changed, as Harry did in of Cursed Child. That's like Harry watched his own parents die. So, in order to turn Tom into Voldemort, Harry erases the changes he made to Tom and returns to the future.

When Harry erases his memory of love and himself from Tom and returns to future, he finds the same peaceful world. It is the correct timeline in which Voldemort was defeated.

Harry is relieved that he has returned to the correct time without changing the future. But one thing in that world had changed drastically.

It was Harry's family. Harry had to pay the price for the crime of arrogance in selfishly erasing Tom's memory.

The details are described in the novel, but ultimately Harry's love destroys Voldemort. But that love also allowed Voldemort to live. Naturally, the history of many people dying in wars has not changed. They would be tied through a bloody history.

Harry despairs of modern times where he has lost his original family and is married to Voldemort. Harry ruined his life. Furthermore, other people's fates that Harry has moved in the past will befall him as karma.

But Tom is very happy✨and the magical world is probably at peace.

The story ends with Harry laughing hysterically as he realizes that a part of Tom's soul has returned in his own soul.

Happy ending? Probably :(

I understand that Cursed Child is a controversial work. But I love Harry in that work. (I like him with his problems) And it's filled with a very tasty setting from a tomarrymort point of view.

If you know any fic on tomarrymort of in Cursed Child timeline, please contact me. I couldn't find one, so I had to make my own🥲

This whole fic was written to be ridiculous and romantic, fun story tone. And it's sooo long😩

As you can see, I'm not very good at writing English. So I don't plan to translate it, but I would be happy if you enjoyed these artworks alone.

Thanks looking for my art :)

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08melancholie · 3 months ago

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Light Banter. — Micah/Reader

tags: Grief/Mourning, Loss, Death, Mistakes, Soft Micah Bell, Crying, Men Crying, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt, Emotional Hurt, Murder, Brutal Murder, no comfort, Minimal fluff, Trauma, Psychological Trauma, Not Proofread, Not Beta Read, no beta we die like micah bell, and reader lol

summary: The things Micah would do to go back in time and listen to Dutch, the things he'd said about you. Just for once, to rewrite this passage in his life. But that's an ending he may never face; so he must learn to cope with his mistake—both of your mistakes, and must do so all alone.

a/n: so ummmm ive been thinking abt my own fic for the entire two days ive been writing it LIKE i was in class imagining one of the scenes. micah bell angst LETS GOOOOO !!!!

words: 3,648 | AO3 LINK

Dutch is many things; controlling, manipulative, power-hungry—but somehow never wrong. And Micah had to learn that the hard way.

How he said the two of you were a match made in hell—he was right there. When he said you were both the biggest pains in his arse, always causing trouble wherever you went; when he had to put you both on camp-arrest, an attempt at lecturing you to not go into random bars and start fights; when he'd refuse to send you on jobs together, because he knew the outcome every time.

And you both should have listened, for once.

Another day brings you more trouble to stir. Micah and yourself have been out all day—early morning to late afternoon. Few folks were robbed; few non-compliant killed. It was a bit ruthless and brutal—but you were outlaws, so who cares?

Well, Dutch cared. Too much, in your opinion.

Always had his nose in your business, finding ways to scold you and Micah for any minuscule mission that ended in bloodshed or law. But that was your nature! And per his own word, you can't fight your nature—and so you won't.

Now, was that worth being sat in his tent, talked down to for hours? Well, yes. You either zoned out every time, or were struggling to hold in your chuckles and chortles with Micah; always worsening your situation.

Like today.

"You two are just.. unbelievable!" Dutch is scolding you like two children whom were just caught stealing candy from the corner store. He made you sit down on his cot before he started tearing into you both for another bar fight two towns over—initiated by Micah this time. "I sometimes just want to keep you both in camp, doing chores—because this isn't the way to go about." He adds, and it falls on deaf ears as you space out wherever while Micah just.. sits there, staring at him as if he's processing the words coming out of his mouth, when he in fact isn't. Dutch sees this and is simply fed up. "You know what? We're not gonna continue like this."

His next words get your attention instantly.

"I'm separating you two." Your eyes dart up to meet Dutch's dark ones, glistening with distaste. "No more sharing a tent; no more doing jobs together; hell, if you make me go that far, I'll prohibit you two speaking to each other." He barks, and you feel your heart drop to your feet.

"The fuck?" Dutch shoots you a glare at the vulgar reply and raised tone. "You can't do that, Dutch." You protest, standing up off the cot. Micah's head shoots up to look at Dutch, just as surprised and protesting.

He stands firmly above the two of you, looking and talking down on both. "I can do as I please," He stands back to his desk, where he previously was. "already had Charles start to move your—" He gestures to you. "—things out into a different tent at the other side of camp."

Your jaw goes slack and you feel like you have to pick it off the floor. "That.. Dutch! You can't be serious, that's just plain cruel!" You protest, clearly against the entire idea. But, everyone knows who has the last word; it's the reason Micah hasn't talked all night, and the reason he's been watching you, bewildered at how you're protesting to Dutch's word so confidently.

"I am not changing my mind; get out of my tent, both of you." He says firmly, and you have to be dragged out by Micah as to not pounce on Dutch right then and there.

Micah grabs you and—reluctantly, because he'd love to see you ravage the bastard like a wolf—leads you out of the tent, sighing after you exit and shut the flaps behind yourselves. "As much as I'd love to see it, I can't have 'ya killin' Dutch."

It felt much more real when you've left the tent.

Your eyes snap over to where you shared tent would be; split into two, like they were before you 'moved in' together. "This is bullshit.. he can't just segregate us!" You turn to Micah, who looks just as upset.

"I hear 'ya," He places his hands on his hips, looking at the tent as well. "but.. we both know there's nothing we can do." The truth in his words is painful, and you almost don't want to believe it. "Let me help get yer stuff in." He offers, and you nod with a small frown.

Micah helped you get your stuff across camp, the choice of being moved surprising most onlookers who caught a glimpse of what was going on. You just felt worse; even they didn't understand the choice Dutch made. You were reluctant on sorting the last item in its original place, slowly placing your last book into a drawer. "I.. I won't be used to this—I can't do this, Micah." You turn to face him, looking up with a quivering frown.

Micah feels for you. He doesn't even know if he'll be able to process this. He got used to having you in the tent; reading on your shared bedroll before he'd lay himself down, and you'd start reading aloud to him; early mornings where you'd slip out before him—if he managed to get some shuteye, ever—and greet him with coffee; pouncing on him whenever there was a job the two of you could do together. He'll miss it all. "C'mere, I know.." His arms extend to you, and you waste no time in pressing yourself up to him, wrapping your arms around his torso.

You felt safe there—and you know it sounds foolish; safe in the arms of a bloodthirsty, ruthless killer? Well, that was the honest truth. Before you were this close and started sharing bodily contact every day, his hugs—because rare—always felt much more meaningful and real. Your face buries itself in his chest, hands hugging him from under his arms and resting on his back, where his hands find your sides and squeeze reassuringly. You can't tell if he's trying to reassure you or himself right now. "Why would Dutch do this to us?" You huff into his coat.

He looks down at the top of your head. "Beats me, darlin'. I can't put my finger on it, either." He shifts one hand to your back and traces your spine slowly. "But it's damn unfair, that's one thing."

You nod against him in agreement, then pull away slightly, to be able to look up at him. "I think that we should part right—there's an O'Driscoll camp out west, close enough to be a problem." You smirk up at him, and he returns it.

"Oh, yeah? Is there, now?" He releases his hold on you, letting you take a step back. "Well, what're we waiting on? Don't want Dutchy stoppin' us here, do we?" He brings your smile back to your face, and you instantly make a b-line for your horses, mounting up and not caring about the approaching Hosea, trying to stop you.

The ride to this camp was pretty quick, seeing as the both of you were overly excited about it. You were going to end this right, have fun and then probably sneak off to do jobs and have one of the girls cover for you, like they have before when you got 'grounded' by Dutch a few months back. "And there it is," You point out the small outpost-looking area ahead, hitching your horse close-by, but not too close either. "In all her O'Driscoll glory."

"She looks promisin'," Micah jumps off of his horse, following your lead as you take coverage behind a nearby boulder. "tell me how we're doing this, partner." He looks over to you, ready for your command.

Now, whereas you always usually had a plan on how to do things, you just wanted to stress-relieve this time. And so, you did exactly that. "The plan is, you shoot everyone but me and yourself." You give a brief chuckle before drawing your guns. "I just need to relieve some of these emotions, and killin' off O'Driscoll scum will do it perfectly for me." You add.

Micah's smile turns into that devilish grin you love; taking his DAs out swiftly. "Oh, you've got it, girl." He laughs wickedly—oh, how you love that sound. You nod and cock your weapons, rising from your spot.

The entire area smells of blood and gunpowder, a scent you've gotten much more used to since meeting Micah and going on blood-thirsty missions with him. Bodies are scattered all around; faces with bullet holes in them, slit necks and penetrated chests. You and Micah were stood in one of the cabins there, searching through the many drawers, cabinets and closets inside the room. "Damn, these bastards were poor as dirt." You lean on the table behind Micah, on the opposite side as you watch him search through a closet, his back turned to you.

"I found a few pocket watches, but that's about it." You add.

"Hm, well 'least we got something, wouldn't dream of getting back to Dutch with noth—"

His sentence is interrupted by a horrifying squelching sound. Your breath hitches, nearly just enough to silence you. "Mic.. ah—" Your words are knocked out of your mouth by the sharp pain in your waist, and the hand on your mouth.

Micah turns around immediately, met by the traumatising sight of a knife in your side, a barely alive O'Driscoll's hands on you as he runs the knife deeper, slowly and excruciatingly painfully. "What the—" He draws his revolvers, pointing them at the man who tuts at him like at a bad dog.

"Don't do that, Micah." You let out a breathless gasp when the man twists the knife inside you, your hands shakily trying to push him off. You're gasping into the hand on your mouth, backing up into him as your eyes water. You never had a bad pain tolerance; it was more the look on Micah's face at the predicament you both got yourselves into now that had you wanting to cry. "You killed my brothers, 'ya rat."

Micah's unsure in what he's supposed to do. He grips his guns tightly, staring wide-eyed at the sight before him as he scrambles for any way to stop your pain, watching you squirm for release. "Let her go, she ain't done nothing."

The man just laughs and gives another twist of his hand and knife in your side that has you gritting your teeth together. "She slit one of 'em's throats. Wild little thing, is she?" His breath is hitting your neck as he speaks, clasping his hand down harder on your mouth. His knife handle is almost soaked, red staining your light blue shirt and trickling down to your jeans. Just as he stops twisting it, he pulls it out. You squeak out in pain, shutting your eyes closed.

Micah practically growls, watching the man pull the knife out and press the soaking red blade to your throat. "Please—don't." He's desperate, barely able to look at you fighting to stay standing, gripping onto the mans' forearm for dear life. Dear life, indeed.

"Wow," The O'Driscoll laughs, pressing the blade in harder. "beg me some more, Micah Bell. Never thought you was that kinda person." Micah is fighting between anger and worry; wanting to rip the man's head off while watching you squirm, losing more and more blood by the second.

His blood runs cold when a dead silence fills the room and you still up—the knife painting your neck red.

"No!—" He shoots the man dead on the spot, a headshot right into the forehead. He drops his guns and kneels to you, making you sit up and lean on the wall. "Damn it! No, no—don't do this to me, girl.." He unbuttons his undershirt and rips a piece up out of it, trying to hold it up to your neck in an attempt at saving some blood loss. "Come on, you can't do this to me—this is not how we said we was parting, sweetheart," He holds your hand up to your neck, your eyes rolling back as you cough and clench your side. "Please, please don't."

As an outlaw, this was actually how you always envisioned your demise. But, you never thought it'd be this brutal—or that Micah would be forced to watch. "Micah—" You attempt to speak, and it sounds terrifying; your voice isn't you, it doesn't sound like you.

"Don't talk, baby. I'mma.. I'll get'chu home.." You can't really tell if he's trying to convince himself or you that there's a possibility of redemption here, the horrifying look in his eyes as your blood paints the floor and himself, the hand holding yours over your neck getting soaked and trickling down his whole arm. He's getting just as bloody as you, and yet he still thinks there's a way to save this. "It's not too deep.. I can still get 'ya home.." He's huffing and out of breath, as if he just ran a marathon.

You use the hand on your hip to shakily touch his shoulder, removing it from the first knife wound. "No—.." You mumble breathlessly, shaking your head at him. "Stay.. while I go." You manage out, blood leaking down your front from between yours and Micah's fingers.

"No, please—please let me help 'ya. Don't do this to me." He's pleading with you, reaching his free hand to hold onto your side. "Please." He's never experienced loss like this; for a man that killed and saw death since he was a young boy, he sure wasn't prepared.

"Hug me."

"Y/N, don't."

"Hug. Me."

"I love you, darlin'. Why won't you let me help you?"

"Please, Micah. Hug me, hold me in my last moments."

His hands release your wounds. One goes to the back of your head, leaning you into his chest as the other runs through your hair. "I never wanted this, baby. I'm so fucking sorry." He's whispering into your ear while running his bloody hands through your hair, pressing you into himself. This is how you always wanted to die; in the hands of your favourite person, getting to hold them and breathe in their scent, making sure they're the last memory you have despite the way you'd die.

You start to feel woozy; dizzy. You feel your breaths leaving your lungs, your life leaving your body. This, was something no amount of preparation could calm you. "I'm.. scared." You manage out, holding onto his shoulders with a surprising amount of strength.

"Don't be, baby. You'll feel better." He hums, his voice cracking. "And I'll see you there, too. I'll be there, at some point." He whispers, pulling you away briefly to press a kiss to your forehead, wiping some blood off of your neck before leaning you back into him. "I'mma bury you at the nicest spot you'd have ever seen. I'll visit you every day, babygirl. I know you love tulips; how 'bout I plant some there? You'll love that, won't you?" He rambles into your hair.

A haunting silence. Your breaths slow down and hands stop gripping his shirt, and you go limp on top of him. That's what truly breaks him as his eyes water, maybe for the first time in multiple decades. "Oh, baby. I'll make sure you have the prettiest little spot.. with the prettiest little flowers." His tears stream down to your face as he pulls you away to look at you; his beautiful, strong girl.

"Me an' Charles'll bury you, give you the best spot in the entire damn country. I'm so goddamn sorry."

After a moment of silence, he got up and grabbed his guns, holstering them before gently picking you up. He got you up on his horse, calling your own to follow him as he left the massacred O'Driscoll camp behind—not before setting a fire to the cabin in which the man who killed you laid. Just in case.

He held you against him the entire ride back to camp which felt much longer without your little quips and stories, uncaring of how stained his clothes were from your blood. He occasionally leaned down to kiss the top of your head, fastening you against him.

Getting into camp was probably the most terrifying part. He hitched up and held you against him as he stood at the entrance of the campsite, feeling shellshocked. He looked down at your unmoving body, his eyes narrowing to your much more peaceful face.

"Oh, Micah."

His head perks up to the sight of Hosea, standing up from the campfire and slowly walking over, his eyes wide and one hand covering his mouth. "Micah.. Micah, how.?" Hosea was at a loss for words; hell, he assumed you invincible from how many close calls he had to watch you suffer through, so seeing you unmoving in Micah's arms was a terrifying sight. "No—you don't have to say anything. I'll.. get Charles—Charles!" He turns and yells for the other man, as Micah looks back down to you, waiting on Charles.

He soon shows up and instantly frowns, looking down at your body. He looks up to Micah after a moment of silence.

"You know where you want to bury her?"

It was a nice little hill, always painted in flowers during the spring. There was a lake nearby—you always loved sneaking off and skinny-dipping with him, uncaring of Dutch's lecture the next day when you'd be too tired to work. You liked smelling things, too; from flowers to Pearson's meals to Micah himself. You constantly got up into his chest and took in his scent when he hugged you—or when you involuntarily tacked him into an embrace. He'll miss your little surprise attacks on him. He hopes that the flowers will be enough to smell for you.

"Do you want a moment before we lower her in?"

Charles' voice gets Micah out of his zone, and he looks at the man. "Thank you.." He grumbles and Charles nods, walking off a few feet to give Micah his well-deserved privacy.

Micah takes a seat down next to your lifeless body, now cleaned up and dressed in your favourite outfit. You looked mostly like yourself—if you ignore the paleness of your skin and neck wound openly displayed, unable to be hid behind your shirt collar. He takes you in for one final hug, breathing in your scent, like you would with him. It pained him that you smelled like gunpowder and blood in your last moments, but at least the perfume Karen offered to put on you made a small difference. He embraces you for a long time, enough for Charles to come back and interrupt, asking Micah if it'd be okay now. And Micah knew you needed peace; so he agreed.

His eyes could barely stay opened as Charles shuffled dirt over your body, losing the sight of you slowly. He bit his lip, watching the last of your face get lost in the surrounding dirt. His eyes watered briefly, but he couldn't let himself cry in front of Charles, so he shoved it down.

Charles tapped the back of the shovel over the dirt pouch, flattening it out before taking a step back. "There," He turns to Micah briefly. "I'll leave 'ya to.. process it. Seems you still need to." He hums before walking away, leaving Micah holding back tears before your grave.

Despite never being a religious man, he hoped that an ending was real and that you'd gotten your peace, even in your brutal suffering.

People in camp mourned you and visited your grave for a few weeks before most stopped and moved on. But Micah couldn't.

He was there every day—early morning to late evening, if not downright sleeping at your burial. He had issues with insomnia before, and you always made it easier to fall into the slumber he always hoped for. Sleeping next to your grave hasn't helped too much, but he feels better; not wanting you to rest alone, by your wish you vocalised when Dutch wanted to split your tent apart. Your grave was cared for immensely, and there was barely any space around it from the overwhelming amount of flowers Micah had either bought or planted himself. He had one of the girls teach him how, and made sure to include dozens of tulips. He knew what you liked.

"You've been gone three and a half months, baby. I still bring 'ya tulips.. but I'm not sure if you're getting tired of them." He spoke to your gravestone a lot; he missed your voice immensely, now regretting the few times he'd space out while you yapped his ear off about some random topic. "I planted a few roses, I know you like 'em too."

"Hope you can see and hear me, darlin'. Did you know I got your name into my other barrel, huh?" He takes his right revolver out, tracing his fingers over the initials he carved into the guns' barrel. "Yeah... it's real nice, huh?" He holstered the weapon again, looking down at you under the dirt patch for a moment before looking up at the sky. Somehow, it always looked the prettiest when he'd visit you.

"That's you, ain't it, sweetheart?"

The sky was a mix of neon oranges and pinks, slowly fading into light, morning blues as the sun made its way up the horizon. The clouds were nowhere to be found, letting the sun pass into another day. Another day he spent with you.

"Hi to you too, my sweet girl."

Kudos on AO3 very appreciated! Finally finished this fic dear God. I want this man so bad its unreal chat.

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whiskeyghoul · 3 months ago

Text

8 || She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader]

First part, previous part, next part

A/N: Oh we are so back. This is mostly just angst, including the return of Tommy. Not a lot of Spencer in this one but the next one is going to be from his perspective. I really needed just a little angst in this fic again. I hope to be writing part 9 soon since I am in a bit of a writers block for this fanfic. But then again I really love writing for it too.

WC: 3,1 K

Tags: Spencer Reid, kidnapping, toxic exes, not proof read, we die like men, angst, hurt comfort but the comfort comes later.

Warnings: Kidnapping, mental instability, stalking, drugging

Your POV

You had watched Spencer leave into a room, a sigh leaving your lips as he closed the door behind him. Returning to the lab to finish your work felt a little tiresome. You wanted to spend more time with Spencer. Time that was so rudely cut short with a case. It was to be expected, but that didn't mean you had to like it. So, begrudgingly, you made your way to the lab. Getting in to wait for another process to finish, while polishing off the final remnants of your sandwich. Looking around the desk you saw the different reports that needed organizing. It was messy, and chaotic. Sometimes you would lose a document for a few moments before panicking and frantically looking through all the papers you had. That had to change. Now was as good a time as any.

While organizing your papers alphabetically your eyes landed on Spencer's purple scarf slung over the back of the desk chair. Running a hand over the fabric. It was soft, incredibly so even. A few worn edges added character, showing how well loved the scarf had been over the years. Picking it up you put it up to your nose, inhaling the warm scent that was so completely Spencer. It was a comforting scent. The smell of sweet coffee, cologne, and that signature scent of his apartment you had smelled while you were there. Feeling a little creepy about smelling his clothes you quickly put it down after folding it into a small bundle. Placing it on the edge of your desk to not forget.

Going back to your desk you noticed something was just a little off. You remember that the coffee cup from that morning was missing. It wasn’t unusual for garbage to be removed by cleaning staff. Just not usually during your shift. Oftentimes they would come in at the end of the day, when you would have put all dangerous substances away so no one would accidentally spill anything. There were measures in place to keep everyone safe. So why was your cup missing?

No. There was no need to be skeptical about something as simple as this. You must have thrown it away subconsciously before you left to get lunch. That was the logical explanation to this. So you shook off the uncomfortable feeling. There was no more reason to be suspicious of the small things. You were a bit scatterbrained at times, so it was only normal for you to forget something as small as this. Especially since your mind had been on Spencer for most of the day. Having made up had left you on cloud nine. When he had come in that morning it just made you realize how sweet he is, how forgiving of your flaws that you were so critical of. You never expected him to forgive you when you had hurt him quite badly. So it was like a dream that he did. And that had left you just a little preoccupied. Misplacing or misremembering something wasn’t that far of a stretch.

The beep of the analyser got your attention. Walking over you hit the printer button, out came a print out of all the chemical components detected in the white powder. Giving it a quick once over to have a look at the majority of substance, it was always tainted along the way. Sometimes by the general use and existence of the material, sometimes by the less than careful collection of whatever they wanted to be analyzed. Taking a look it seemed to have been ecstasy, tainted by a few wayward chemicals. Nothing that would cause death but still, it could lead to a possible suspect. Moving back to the desk you looked around for the designated case folder.

It wasn’t there. You looked between the ones you just moved. Maybe you left it between the older files. Alphabetical order was the easiest after all. Managing to do it nearly on autopilot you might have just stacked it in the finished pile. So, you picked them up, thumbing through the different manilla folders starting with the same letter. Nope… must have looked over it. You tried again, making sure that you saw each and every single one. Still, it wasn’t there. Okay, maybe you did leave it in the pile on your desk. Your pulse quickened as you looked through the files but still, not the one you needed. The cleaners know not to take these. This is when you started to panic just a little. Moving between your desk and other tables in the lab, checking every file cabinet in there for the one you needed. Still there was no sign of it. Fuck.

Your phone rang. Snapping your head up you scrambled from a pile of files you had been rummaging through. Spencer’s caller ID lit up the screen. Picking up you quickly pinned the phone between your cheek and shoulder, “Hey, pretty boy, what’s up?” you asked, a little breathless, while going back to the papers to try and find what you were looking for. “Hey. We just got to the local station and I wanted to call. I felt bad about having to leave without really saying goodbye.” You noted how Spencer’s voice sounded a little hushed, how the background noise was muffled. “That’s okay. I am glad you called though. I like hearing your voice.” You said while continuously shuffling papers. “Are you busy? I could call back another time.” He asked, probably hearing the papers. “No, no!” You said before readjusting the phone to your other ear. “I just.. I lost the file I was working on. I must have misplaced it so I am a bit stressed looking for it.” Admitting to your fault. “Oh, I would have helped if I could.” Spencer said before you heard Morgan’s voice in the back, calling out to Spencer jokingly. “It’s okay, hearing your voice makes me feel a bit better.” You responded with a hint of shyness. It was easier to admit these things over the phone than to his face.

“I really wanted to hear from you too.” Spencer said before a whispered, “Morgan! stop!” Which made you laugh. “How does the case look? Will it be a long one?” You asked, trying to keep the conversation going, hoping to hear him speak more. His voice eases any worry in your mind. Like a placating balm to smooth over any uncomfortability. “Actually, it seems like it might be easier than expected. Though I don’t want to jinx it and then have to be stuck here for the foreseeable future.” he answered. “Better knock on wood then.” You added to his sentence, really hoping he would be back sooner rather than later. “I will, once I get to the desk. I really have to go though, because Morgan is being annoying.” he said, a bit remorseful. “I’ll text you soon. Maybe call later tonight?” You asked and heard a mh-hm from the other side of the line. “Okay.. Bye, talk to you soon.” “Bye.”

When you hung up it really settled in you weren’t going to find this file you were looking for. Which meant there would be a ton more paperwork, a new file, which meant over time. So you made your way down to whoever could help you with this file, explaining the situation you got a new version along with an entire packet of paperwork to fill in to ‘officially’ request a copy of the file. Getting back to the lab you sat down, ready to start the tedious task of correctly filling in everything.

It was late when you finished. Almost dark outside the clock indicating it was 7:30 p.m. At least your paperwork was finished. With a sigh you closed it. Stretching back your arms with a groan. Sitting hunched never did wonders for your body. A growl from your stomach signaled it was really time to get going. As you packed your bag you thought about the leftover pasta bolognese you had in your fridge, just how good it sounded right about now. With the paperwork in hand you left the lab, locking up behind you and heading down. Spencer´s purple scarf was loosely wrapped around your neck. Leaving the filled in forms in the designated inbox of the higherup who needed to officially grant your request. Everything was always so bureaucratic. You texted Spencer you were finally leaving Quantico, getting a ‘But isn’t it almost 8?’ back from him. You chuckled, ‘Couldn’t find the file I talked about, so had to get a replacement, you know how much paperwork that takes.’ you texted back nuzzling your nose into the soft fabric of his scarf. Inhaling the smell, feeling a little better with it around you, like he was there to joke about the file, say it was okay.

Saying goodbye to the security guard before you headed to the parking garage, your car was one of 5 left on the floor. When you got in and turned the key in the ignition it ticked but never caught on. You sighed, of fucking course this was to happen now. You already had a stressful day, this was just the cherry on top. You slammed your hands against the wheel quickly before taking the key out, popping the hood, and stepping out. You opened the hood, seeing your car battery disconnected, your heart sank. This is weird.

Panic rose like bile in your throat. Your heartbeat raced as your hands trembled. Everything inside of you told you to run. Yet your feet were nailed in place. Rooted to the ground, unable to move. Not wanting to look up in case something, or someone was close by. From the corner of your eye, however, you saw movement. A black clad figure moving closer. You gripped the strap of your bag, a trembling hand moving into the pocket of your jacket. Taking the key in a firm grip, in case of emergency it could be used as a weapon. But it was of no use, when the figure got close you turned with the key in hand. Raising your right hand to hit the figure, to embed the tip of your key into any soft tissue you could reach, but your wrist was caught in a quick movement. Your eyes widened as you recognized the face that stood in front of you.

Tommy.

You gasped his name out while trying to wring your hand out of his grip. “I’m sorry.” He managed to say before you felt a pinch in your left arm. Confusion, panic, fear, those emotions washed over you as you realized what just happened. He had drugged you. You could feel the way your arm grew heavy, along with your breathing labored. Trying not to panic because that would just make everything work faster. You still struggled against his hold but he had you pinned against your car. There was nowhere to run to. You just prayed the security cameras were picking up what was happening. Tommy wasn't that smart to shut down the cameras too, you hoped. “You’re not sorry.” your voice sounds slurred. It became more difficult to keep your eyes open, to keep standing straight. “I just can’t lose you.” He almost sounded apologetic as his arm moved to keep you upright. “Fuck you.” Was the last thing you managed before your eyes betrayed you. Darkness took over, and your body went limp in the arms of your worst enemy.

Blinking rapidly didn’t seem to do anything. Vision still black you felt your hands were tied behind your back. There was a sore spot on the left one. The way you had been sat had your head tilted forward and your neck was now incredibly stiff. You were on a chair for sure. Blindfolded and tied up. You tried to stay calm, to not let your emotions take over. But your heartbeat was fast, loud in your ears, it made it hard to focus. You didn’t know how long it had been but it must have been some time. Your phone was no longer in your pocket, at least you didn’t feel it. The scarf around your neck was gone, Spencer’s scarf. Panic over took you again. Breathing picking up in short, quick bursts. “Don’t panic, please. You always overreacted.” Tommy’s voice sounded out. Your head shot up, craning around, trying to locate where he was. “Me? Overreacting? Tommy, you kidnapped me!” You said exasperated, while your hands were straining against the rope that had your wrist stuck to the chair. “Well you wouldn’t have come with me if I asked.” You groaned at that answer, clearly your wishes to never see him again weren’t clear enough of a hint. “Because you hurt me! I never wanted to see you again.” You raised your voice, trying to not yell but you were frustrated, scared, panicked.

“Just… ugh! You aren’t even listening to what I want to say!” Tommy sounded frustrated. Suddenly his hands grabbed your shoulders, he had been closer than you thought. His grip an iron vice as your body stiffened. Breath caught in your throat. “Okay. Okay. I’m listening. That’s what you wanted, right? So say what you need to say.” You said, trying to calm down. Logically you knew you shouldn’t be indulging him. But you knew that egging him on would make things worse. He was explosive, angry, that’s what happened every time. “Right. I need you to listen. Because, I have been thinking.” Tommy started, his hands still holding onto your shoulders. You could feel the breath on your skin, it was humid. Like a wolf looming over its prey, panting out to finally have caught dinner. “I think. You shouldn’t be with that guy. He is a twig, I could be so much better. We could work things out if you gave me a try. You are going to give it a try.” He sounded almost out of breath as he spoke. As he tried to get his thoughts in order. “I have given it a try, but it didn't work. Tommy, you haven’t changed. At all. So why would it work now?” You answered, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear but it was important for him to hear it. Your emotions flipping like a switch, wanting to placate him and then wanting to tell the truth, to egg him on. The heartbeat under your skin felt like a drum against your ribs. Hammering a constant rhythm of anxiety. “No, I have changed. You just didn’t give me a chance to show it. Going on and on about how I have been stalking you. I haven’t! I have changed and you are going to let me show it to you.” His grip tightened before he let go. You could hear his feet, pacing around, probably with his hands in his hair. Like he did when he was frustrated with you. He always did.

“You can’t keep me here. The FBI will come looking when I don’t show up tomorrow.” You strained your wrists, trying to feel if there was a knot you could loosen. But it felt like zip tie cuffs. Plasticy, hard and digging painfully. “You called in sick with a really bad stomach bug. It will take at least a week.” He swallowed after his answer, walking a few steps away to rummage through something. With the blind fold on you could see a little strip of light as you looked down, though it was relatively dark probably due there being no windows. No he wouldn’t be stupid enough to keep you somewhere with windows. It would be too big a risk, and he did not seem like he wanted to lose you. In your mind you hoped he hadn’t texted Spencer, hoping that he’d try to call you later tonight like you had agreed upon. If you didn’t answer he would probably figure something was wrong. If he did text him something you prayed it was so out of character that it wouldn’t go unnoticed.

“Right… and after that week?” You asked, hoping to keep him talking, keeping him talking would keep him from hurting you. That seemed most logical at least. “You will see how good I am to you. You won’t want to leave anymore.” Tommy said, “And if you don’t I’ll just tell them a family member died, request a leave of absence.” He continued and the rummaging stopped. Your heart dropped, not knowing what to expect at that moment. It could be something to hurt you with, something to shut you up, no matter what you did there was going to be something. More footsteps. It kept your heart rate up that was for sure. Something clamped around your ankle, cold, metal. Thick and heavy, the weight pressed down on your foot. “You can move around like this. Can’t make you love me again when you’re stuck to a chair.” He almost chuckled at that. The sound made your stomach feel heavy. Like he didn’t seem to care about your wellbeing. Blood running cold at that. Like a polar stream running through your body. “Move around?” Your voice sounded strained. Throat closed and breathing tight.

He stepped around you, you could feel the air shift as he moved. Stepping to the back his hands were on your wrists. “Yes. You have to promise you won’t try to hurt me. Otherwise you’re right back in this chair again.” Now that was something you didn’t want. Being stuck in place, physically unable to move, it was the worst choice. When released at least you could move around. Get a feel of the place. Find a way out. “Right… I promise.” You said it slowly, deliberately. Each word out of your mouth needs to be thought out from now. Using words to placate. Fight, flight, freeze or fawn. And with Tommy, fawn seemed to be your best option. Keeping him friendly would give you time.

Your hands were released from their cuffs, the blind fold removed from your eyes. Blinking rapidly to adjust to the dim light of the room. You were sitting in a wooden chair, you had figured as much. There were no windows, 2 doors, one on your left and one right in front of you. The carpet on the floor was a weird green color that looked like it had been stained one too many times by something unknown. There was a small living room area, two couches with a coffee table. A kitchenette on the opposite wall. Turning your head you saw a dining room table. It was like you were in a weirdly small studio apartment. Everything was there to live. You glanced down, your right leg sporting a metal cuff, a chain going off to the wall. “Welcome home.” Tommy said it almost triumphantly, proud of his work.

It hit you like a ton of bricks. Tommy was going to keep you here as a forced housewife. And you just prayed Spencer would realize what was going on quickly.

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