#yes i will sit here and let my phone play ads for a solid hour while i do work yes thank you

[chadsuke]

ugh that stupid dracula post makes me want 2 play more playchoices but i find that game STUPIDLY annoying to play when i don’t have vip

[sparkle-hwa]

at your service

summary: patiently waiting for your boyfriend to come home turns out to be quite the treat.

pairing: dom!hongjoong x sub!female reader

genre: smut

TW: none (but please let me know if I need to add any)

CW: dom/sub, name calling, slight degradation, unprotected sex

Word count:  2,366

A/N: aahhhh!! this is my first fanfiction that i wrote for ateez EVER and my first one I’m ever posting! i hope you all like it! please feel free to send any feedback :) 

________________________________________________________________

You sat on the couch, headphones in, trying to concentrate on writing your term paper. The semester was almost over and you needed at least a B to keep your solid academic standing. Better grades now meant more scholarship opportunities for graduate school in the future and that’s what mattered most. Rewriting the same sentence over and over again didn’t seem so bad compared to endless loan payments. Pulling the blanket up higher on your chest you snuggled in and decided that thirty more minutes of writing would put you in a good place to finish and edit it tomorrow. Your entire week had been consumed by school and you were not about to let your Friday night get taken up by this. Hongjoong, your sweet, caring boyfriend would be home soon and you wanted a clear head for what you believed to be in store for you.

He had been sending you picture after picture on snapchat almost all of today. To the outsider viewer, it probably looked like he was taking simple selfies; after all, he had been at his internship all day.  But the added captions were definitely for your eyes only. He detailed just what he wanted to do with you - to you - tonight and it was enough to make you squirm in your seat during class and turn the brightness all the way down on your phone.  Recalling it now, you could feel the heat rise in your body and you subconsciously swallowed hard. Some say you can’t remember pain, but you definitely remembered how difficult it was to get yourself situated in your 8am lecture last week, the welts still red on your backside. Shaking your head and adjusting your earbuds, you got back to work.

—-

Hongjoong parked his car outside of the apartment complex and slumped in the seat once he cut the engine. It had been a long day. His internship had him working twice as hard, copying and filing, delivering reports, and filling coffee cups. He counted his blessings every morning though. He was chosen from hundreds of applications that flooded in from the university and this on his resume was sure to impress future employers. Sighing, he thought about what would have happened if you hadn’t convinced him to apply. You were so good for him. 

With a smirk, he sat up, grabbed his laptop case, and opened the car door. He walked briskly to the front door and opened it slowly. Hongjoong first saw you sitting on the couch and then noticed the headphones placed securely in your ears. With a devious smile, he quietly set down his bag next to the end table, loosened his tie, and quietly padded across the foyer to the living room. 

— 

You were none the wiser to the fact that your boyfriend had just walked in the apartment. Seventeen was blasting loud in your headphones and in retrospect, you probably should have just played it from your laptop, lest someone who wanted to rob you had walked in instead. Bopping your head along to the beat, you felt really accomplished as you saved your final rough draft. Suddenly, you felt something coming down over your head. Before you had a moment to think, Hongjoong’s tie was tightening around your neck and you gasped at the sudden change of events. Leaning your head back, you saw your boyfriend standing over your with a look in his eyes that frightened you but also made you excited. 

“Good evening babygirl,” he cooed at your lovingly. 

“Good evening sir,” you replied, batting your eyelashes.

“Ooh someone remembered her manners. You must really want something from me.”

“Anything for you…” you trailed off as he stroked your cheek and you shut your eyes. As quickly as he was sweet, he smacked your cheek hard enough to make you gasp. Hongjoong tightened the restraint around your neck more. 

“Get on your knees,” he growled at you, dropping the end of his tie and letting it drop down your back. Obliging, you dropped off the couch and sank down. You gazed down at your knees and heard Hongjoong walk around the end of the couch sit down. 

“Mmm.. so pretty down there, sunk down just for me,” he purred, palming his cock through his work pants. You continued staring at your knees, feeling the heat pool at the bottom of your underwear. His praise was affirming to hear, even if you couldn’t respond. 

“Hands and knees now,” he ordered. You put your palms on the hardwood floor and pushed your body up. The tie slipped down your side and grazed the floor. Hongjoong grabbed it and pulled at it slightly.

“Scoot closer.” You crawled closer as he pulled you by his tie and he pushed on your ass to make you move sideways. 

“I’ve been dreaming of this ass all day. Work was so boring and I needed something to stimulate me,” he said, rubbing your ass over your PJs pants. 

“I’m here for you, sir,” you dared to say. You were sure he wouldn’t care if you spoke without permission if it meant you were validating the fact that you were his and only his. Using the tie, he jerked your head so close your temple thumped against his knee. 

“That’s correct. You are here for me. I’ll make sure you never forget that.” In one swift movement he pulled down your PJ pants and smacked one of your pale asscheeks. He pulled them down farther and you moved just a little so he could remove them completely along with your underwear. Once he rid you of your pants, you dropped back onto your feet and he slipped your sweatshirt off over your head. You obviously didn’t have a bra on since you had been home alone for the past 2 hours and you heard him murmur a curse quietly under his breath. It was cold on the hardwood, yet the more you thought about being completely naked in front of Hongjoong with only his tie around your neck the warmer you got.

“Let’s go slut,” he practically snapped at you and jerked the restraint tightly upward causing your head to jerk forward. Crawling on your hands and knees you followed him back to your bedroom where he told you to remain on all fours. He wasn’t noticing but you silently dared him to look over and make eye contact with you. You bit your lip and did your best to look as sexy as possible. At just the right moment, Hongjoong turned around and looked right at you. His gaze was penetrating, dominating, and you could feel the wetness of your heat spread slightly to your bare thighs. 

“Come here baby,” he purred and you crawled slowly over to your lover, arching your back so that your ass stuck up higher and your tits stuck out just a bit more. When you reached him, you kneeled down at his feet and Hongjoong sat on the end of the bed. 

“So you’re going to sit there like the good girl you are and you’re going to watch me jack off as I think of your tight wet pussy and then I’m going to pound you so hard you’ll have trouble walking in the morning. Sound like a plan?” 

You squirmed on your feet, hoping to find friction somewhere to help relieve the wet aching you felt. “Yes sir, that sounds delightful,” you said, shooting him a glance that was somewhere between sexy and scathing. Hongjoong unzipped his pants and removed them with his undergarments. His cock sprung free. You quietly moaned as you saw his length unclothed. Swiftly he grabbed the end of the tie again and pulled you closer to him. 

“Hmm I like this little leash I have on you,” he said with intense eye contact that made you melt. “Makes it easy for you to do what I want you to.” He winked and stuck his thumb in your mouth, pushing down your tongue. You welcomed the intrusion, happy to have some sort of physical touch to focus on. Wrapping his other hand around his cock, he started to stroke it. Hongjoong let out a gravely moan. 

“Suck,”he ordered. You happily did as you were told, lifting up a bit so he didn’t have to lean down so much and sucked on his finger. He sped his pace up and pushed around in your mouth. You wanted desperately for him to replace it with his length. You moaned around his finger, hoping he would take pity on you. 

“Aw does baby girl want more?” Hongjoong cooed at you. You nodded and he removed his finger. Hopeful, you gazed at him. Instead, he shoved you back down to your feet. 

“I wonder what getting what you want is like?” He growled back. “Guess you’ll never know.” Winking he leaned back and continued to rub his dick, completely ignoring your pout. Closing his eyes, Hongjoong let his lips fall open. He heaved a heavy breath. Hongjoong seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. 

You however were not pleased. You were the slickest you had ever been and were fed up. Teasing you was one thing, but neglecting you for his own pleasure made you scrunch up your face. You watched your infuriatingly handsome boyfriend jack off and felt the displeasure rise. Your pussy ached. You slipped a hand down there to give some much needed pressure to your swollen clit. You decided to let out the loudest, sexiest moan you could muster to get his attention. Snapping up, Hongjoong made direct eye contact with you. His cock was still in his hand but he had stopped stroking and was watching you with a penetrating gaze. You continued to rub yourself and made direct eye contact right back at him. He scowled at you and you winked back at him knowing that that was either the best or the worst decisions you had ever made. 

“Excuse me,” he growled. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting what I want,” you countered. You brought your fingers to your mouth to suck your juices off. “Is this what you want?” You eyed him seductively. 

“Damn straight,” he replied. “Get up here?” He said it like a question but you knew it was a thinly veiled order. He was playing it safe. Somehow that turned you on more knowing that you had almost won. 

Hongjoong laid on his back and you situated yourself so that you were on all fours beside him. His weeping cock lay flat against his pubic hair. You took it in your hand. Using the precum as a lube, you sped up quickly knowing that he hadn’t been going fast enough earlier. 

“Uuuuugh” came a soft moan. You leaned up and bit his lower lip, just enough to lengthen his moan and turn it gravely. 

“I love your sweet noises,” you cooed softly. “But I think it’s about damn time I started making those.” Dropping his cock, you rolled to lay on your back. Spreading your legs felt so good as the rush of cold air caressed your wet cunt. Hongjoong rolled onto his side and immediately stuck two fingers into your entrance. No warning. No announcement. Nothing, as he shoved them as deep as he could manage. It was enough to make you yelp out loud and remind you that you were still in trouble for disobeying. 

“Fuuuuck,” you moaned. 

“Mmm still my little babygirl,” murmured Hongjoong. He started to pump in and out faster. You were left breathless and clawing at the fitted sheet on the bed. 

“Is babygirl going to cum?” Inquired Hongjoong as he clearly had no intention of slowing down. 

“Y-yes sir. D-do I have permission?” You answered. Desperately hoping he would let you, you arched your back, hoping his fingers would stretch you out more. 

“I suppose you could,” he said. “It’ll have to be on my count though.”

“Yes sir,” you moaned out breathlessly. 

“One…. two… three…” he began. 

“Uuugh,” you began. “You never told me what number I could cum on, sir” 

“Good,” was the only response he gave to you. “Now where was I?”

He frustratingly began counting at four again. you felt the pressure building up in your lower abdomen. Either way, you were going to cum. It was either going to be when you were supposed to or you would break the rules. Somehow a dick would end up inside of you and you weren’t mad about it. Choosing the number ten, you achingly waited for his voice to reach the final number. 

“Ten…” and everything else faded away as your pussy clenched around his finger. Hongjoong latched onto your nipple and bit down fairly hard. The sensation added to your orgasm and you enjoyed every moment of riding it out. Fucked out, you shivered as he removed his fingers. 

“Nasty slut,” Hongjoong said and he wiped his moistened fingers onto your breasts. “Time for you to get properly fucked.”

He centered himself over you. In true fashion, your boyfriend wasted no time bottoming out in your already fucked pussy. His swift movements caused you both to moan at the same time. Hongjoong locked lips with you and shoved his cock in and out of you. 

“Lift your arms up,” he moaned. You obliged and he clasped your wrists above your head. 

“You look so good under me,” he growled at you. “Stick your tongue out.” Once again you did as you were told and he removed his hand from your wrists just for a moment so you could suck on his fingers again. 

“Fuck baby I’m gonna cum,” he murmered in your ear. With one final stroke he spilled inside of you. Your pussy clenched around him again as he pulled out and you sighed as you felt his wetness inside of you.

“Lemme go get something to clean you off babygirl,” Hongjoong said with a quick kiss. He hurried back with a damp washcloth and proceeded to clean you off. Once he discarded it, Hongjoong slid beside you on the bed and snuggled close.

“So…. how was your day?”

[manonblaqkbeak]

Complicated

Fking finally lol. I’ve had absolutely no motivation to read or write these last few days, but I finally started this last night and finished it now. Here’s Day 15--a bad day, and part 3 of the mini-series i have going for this month.

Part 1  Part 2

cw: none that i can think of, but if theres anything, pls dont hesitate to let me know!

1.5k words

enjoy!! :)

Aelin had been sitting in her car for the last twenty minutes, staring at the motel door. She had no idea what she was going to say to Sam, but she knew she had to say something.

Something like, “I'm sorry that your biological daughter calls another man daddy and papa.” Maybe Aelin should have put a stop to it once Olive had started calling Rowan that, but hearing Olive say daddy in her tiny voice with a wide smile on her face made Aelin's heart flutter, and the sweet look of joy when Rowan heard her say it made Aelin think that it wouldn't be too bad.

She had got caught up in the fantasy of it all, but it was hard not to be sucked down into. She still loved Rowan and they had been dating seriously for the last six months. They had been friends for five months after she saw him at the nursery, and things had been going so damned well. Rowan and Egan had moved into Aelin's place two months ago—the four bedroom house previously owned by Aelin's parents before they moved into a small home—and she got along fantastically with Egan; he had a bit more of an understanding that Aelin wasn't his biological mother, since Rowan still had the photos of Lyria during the pregnancy, and she was determined to never replace Lyria, but when he called her 'ma' or 'Lin', her face would break into a smile so big she thought that it would be a permanent fixture on her face.

Aelin wasn't stupid, however, she knew that people thought that she and Rowan were moving too fast—namely her parents and Aedion, but when she and Rowan talked about the future, it felt solid, like it wasn't just a fanciful notion, but something real that was only a few steps away from being able to hold in her hands.

She had never been with someone that was so loyal to her, someone that cared for her in the way that Rowan did. That looked past her outer beauty and saw Aelin for who she was, and encouraged her to go for what made her happy.

It wasn't always perfect, they had arguments for time to time, but they worked it out, and that had shocked Aelin at first, that Rowan actually wanted to work together to fix the issue, that he actually communicated instead of just letting the arguments fade away. It wasn't like that at all with Chaol, part of the reason why their relationship crashed and burned.

So she hardly thought twice about what it meant to have Olive call Rowan 'daddy', that to Aelin, she was just building a family and a future, but she was starkly reminded that her boyfriend indeed was not her daughters father when Olive called Rowan 'papa' in the middle of the lunch that Sam was invited to at their place and the silence that had descended between the three adults.

Aelin almost choked on the pizza that she was in the middle of inhaling when Olive said that, her daughter sitting on Rowan's lap because she had been fussy and didn't want to sit in her booster seat. Olive and Egan were blissfully unaware of the awkwardness that was emanating from Aelin, the brown haired boy paying attention only to the TV that was playing his favourite cartoon, and Olive had simply wanted more of Rowan's attention.

Aelin glanced at Sam and found that the look in his eyes was utterly unreadable, which was unusual since Sam was easy to read, but for the first time in the years that Aelin knew him, she had no idea how to decipher his expression.

Rowan had opened his mouth, to say what Aelin wasn't sure, when Sam waved him off, and resumed the conversation revolving around the classic car that Rowan was fixing in his rare free time. So Rowan, knowing that it wasn't the right place to have that conversation, continued where he left off before Olive uttered that word that had never felt wrong before but suddenly left Aelin wanting to sink into the floor.

And when Sam had left after lunch, Aelin had decided that temporarily avoiding the topic was the best move, and after helping Rowan clear the table, Aelin had given Olive a quick bath in order to think about anything else.

All Aelin had been able to think about was what if somehow, by letting Olive calling Rowan her dad, she had doomed her daughter into developing daddy issues, that she would grow up confused on how to feel about her biological father when all her life she had called another man dad.

Aelin banged her head against the steering wheel, wondering how a good, decent day had gone to a complicated mess in a matter of hours.

She stayed there for a while, until she realised that she needed to be the adult she was and left the car, knocking loudly on the white motel door.

The door flew open and Aelin was greeted by Sam, a small smile on his face. “I was wondering how long you were going to sit out there for.” Having no idea what to say to that, Aelin stayed silent and went inside when Sam invited her in.

Aelin worried at her lip, and sat at the tiny table by the TV. She truly had no idea what to say.

Sam sat across from her and took her hands in his. Aelin looked up and found nothing but openness in his warm brown eyes. “I'm not mad, if that's what you're thinking.”

Aelin blinked at him. While Sam wasn't a violent man, she wasn't expecting that. “How?” she managed to get out after a moment. “How could you not be mad? Your daughter is calling another man 'papa'.”

“I'm hardly Olive's father, Aelin, I'm aware that I'm not the most active dad, I've seen her only a handful of times since her birth and she's nearly two. It's clear that Rowan loves her, and that she loves him. I actually saw all four of you earlier today, at the park,” Sam added. “I was feeling nervous, like I always do before I see Olive, so I went to the park to have my breakfast. I heard your laugh and I turned, ready to call out to you, when I saw that you were having a picnic and I realised that you already had a family, that Rowan and Egan are your family, and that Rowan is Olive's father in the way that counts, in the way that matters, and that I'm just an intruder in your lives.”

Gripping his hands, Aelin shook her head. “Sam, you can't think like that, you're not an intruder. You're Olive's biological father, you're important.”

“And I'll always be grateful that I had a hand in creating her, but Aelin, I want you to look inside yourself and tell me truthfully, in ten years time, who do you see by your side, Olive's side? Because I know that it isn't me.” And it wasn't, Aelin didn't to look inside herself to know that. She was already thinking deeply about her future long before Sam's visit.

“I want you to know though,” Aelin said abruptly, “that I didn't deliberately set out to have Olive see Rowan as her father, that I did talk about you from time to time, but I-I don't think that she could make the connection that the voice on the end of the phone belongs to you. But I promise that if see ever asks about you, I'll tell her, I won't hide anything from her.”

“I know that you will,” Sam said, “just maybe tell her in a nice way that she's the result of a broken condom.”

Aelin laughed, feeling light for the first time since this whole thing started. “I will. Although I think I'll have to consult Google for that.”

Sam nodded, because even he knew that there were no books that could help with that conversation. “But if she never asks about me, then don't tell her.”

“Sam—”

“If Olive wants to believe for the rest of her life that Rowan is her biological father, then I'm okay with that. I'd rather her be happy than confused. Because when I heard Olive call Rowan 'papa', it felt right, like it made sense. And I know that's how you feel, too. And I know it makes no sense, but Olive somehow just looks like she's Rowan's daughter, you know? And I don't want to get in the way of that.”

Sam was far too nice for his own good. People as kind as him were hard to find. It was a miracle that in this life that she had met two men like that.

Aelin wiped at her eyes, the tears falling suddenly and fast. “How are you so nice when your father is a piece of shit?”

Sam snorted and handed her a tissue. “Years of therapy.” He took a deep breath, and in his brown eyes, the eyes that she had once fallen for so deeply, Aelin saw acceptance. “There's also something else...I was doing some soul searching before you came over, and I...I know that I'm not on the birth certificate and that I don't really have a say—”

“Sam, of course you have a say. Like I said earlier, you're Olive's biological father. You might not be on the birth certificate, but if you have opinions, then you can share them with me, I won't bite your head off.”

Sam gave her a tiny smile. “And I appreciate that, I do. But what I was going to say is this: if ever in the future Rowan wants to adopt Olive, then you and he have my blessing.”

Aelin stared at him for a long moment, letting the words sink in, and then the tears started again and Aelin's body shook with the force of her sobs. Because if Sam's father wasn't Arobynn, then she would have had the family that Sam was wholeheartedly accepting that she had with Rowan. And that he was willing to stand aside to let Olive have the father that she deserved.

Sam came over to her, hugging her to him as Aelin sobbed into his shoulder, running his hand up and down her back. Aelin had never let herself cry like this in front of him, she never really liked crying like that, but she couldn't help herself and couldn't stop herself for a long while. It was a good ten minutes later when the tears slowly subsided and Sam slowly pulled back, giving her a once over with his kind eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Aelin said, loudly blowing her nose with a handful of tissues. “I just...I wasn't sure what I was expecting to happen here tonight. Never did I think that you would offer something like that, Sam.”

“I would be just like Arobynn if I forced you to be unhappy, and I never want to be like him.”

“You're not,” Aelin said, “you'll never be like him. I hope one day, Sam, you'll be able to have a family of your own.”

Sam kissed her cheek, the gesture sending her back to when they were teenagers. “I hope so, too.”

Aelin stayed for a little while longer, just talking and reminiscing about the old times. And when she went home, she kissed him on the cheek, thanked him again, and told him that he would always have a special place in her heart, because without him, she wouldn't have Olive.

Sam repeated the sentiment, and wished her nothing but happiness with Rowan, and that he was glad she found him.

Aelin was glad she found Rowan, too.

X X X X X X

Aelin walked into her house, and was greeted by two ecstatic children, acting like they hadn't seen her for years. Aelin smiled and gave them their hugs that they desperately wanted. She went over to the kitchen counter where Rowan was preparing dinner—grilled cheese, that she knew very well had veggies hidden within, because Egan acted like vegetables were the world's most evil thing to exist—and kissed him on the cheek. He kissed her temple in response, and Aelin breathed in the homely scent of him.

“How did everything go with Sam?” he asked, moving about the kitchen to start the side salad.

“Great, and there's something very important that I have to tell you.” Rowan raised a silver brow, but Aelin kissed his cheek again and promised to tell him later.

X X X X X X

Aelin was more than ready to climb into bed and fall asleep, but she needed to tell Rowan about her conversation with Sam, so when they got settled and comfortable, Aelin told him what her ex-partner said.

Rowan was stunned for a moment, and she hadn't even told him the best part. “Truthfully, I was mentally preparing myself for Sam to punch me in the face after lunch, but to hear what he said to you, I feel like a fool for ever thinking that he would resort to that.”

“If he was more like his father, he definitely would have. But Sam is the polar opposite of Arobynn, and truly wants nothing more than for people to be happy.” Rowan smiled and took Aelin's hand in his, and Aelin relished in the comforting touch. “And there's something else,” Aelin added, and it was ridiculous, but a tiny part of her was nervous, that told her that Rowan wouldn't want Sam's blessing, that he wouldn't want to legally be Olive's father. “Sam told me that if you ever wanted to adopt Olive, then you have his blessing, because he wants nothing more than for Olive to be loved and cared for, and he sees that you're the one that can help provide her with that.”

Rowan looked at Aelin, and her own eyes watered when she saw that his were filling up. “I would be honoured to do that, Aelin. It would make me the happiest man in the world to have that privilege. And after we're married, we can start the process, and maybe one day, when Egan's a little older and he has a better understanding, you can adopt him too, because I know you like him just as much as I love Olive.”

“I do,” Aelin said, choking up. “That would be—” Aelin stopped, her mind finally catching up with what he just said. “Did you just propose to me?”

Rowan cracked a smile and kissed her. He pulled away just so, their noses touching. “Not yet, I haven't found the right ring.”

Aelin laughed joyfully, even as her tears overflowed. “Just to let you know, I'm not helping you out this time. You'll have to figure it out on your own.”

Rowan kissed her again and again. “Don't worry, I've already got a few choices in mind.”

“Good. Make sure its sparkles.”

“I will,” Rowan said, and took her into his arms.

It wasn't too bad of a day, after all.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Inspired partially by the twitter trend of The Face Vs. The Face Sitting On It and just in time for Valentine’s Day! 

Gender Neutral Reader Insert. 

Enjoy my masterlist!

Support me on KoFi!

__________________________

While sitting in the car, you watch out the window. Folks buzz around you--some folks looking content, strolling about their day. Others are flitting around, a bit of crease in their forehead. And you feel for them. You know those days where there’s just not enough hours in the day to get it all done. Or it’s when one thing sets off a spiral of all terrible things. Or when you just don’t wake up on the right side of the bed. You know that crease all too well because currently you were having a bad sleeping week. 

You were getting tired when you were supposed to but the second you put your head on the pillow your brain was hot wired--keeping you up with all the things you needed to do, hadn’t done, all the appointments you had kept pushing off. It was finding the littlest things to find that anxiety and keep you staring up at the ceiling. Calum noticed the tossing and turning and tried his best to lull you to sleep this week, fixing you tea in the evening, getting you off your phone or laptop a couple hours before bed. He even started reading to you, but your ears picked up on the white noise of everything in the house. Your brain picked up the embarrassing memory that you hadn’t even considered in decades and now holding it in front of your mind’s eye for hours on end during the week. 

Like right now, you should’ve been at home sleeping. Your work was giving you a long weekend and you really could’ve used the time to catch some extra Z’s, but you were, admittedly, a little scared to stay home. Sure maybe you did fall asleep cuddled up next to Duke. But you worried that you’d stay up, worry yourself sick some more so when Calum told you he had some errands to run you immediately tagged along. The time running around would hopefully tire you out enough that when you got home you could actually fall asleep. 

So after Calum’s personal training session in the morning, which you sort of tagged along for, but mostly went through your own routine and getting a solid breakfast, you two were now buzzing around from store to store. Calum had gotten most of the grocery the other day, but he forgot a couple things so your first objective was to grab those and bring them back up. He then had to go to the post office to mail out his mother’s birthday cards and a few other things. 

While in the line at the post office, your head tucked into his back, Calum got a phone call from a guitar shop on the other side of time about a new model that had just come in. Calum had been eying it for ages, but he didn’t want to be reckless with his money especially after getting some work on his teeth and to the house. So he asked the guitar shop to keep an eye out for when more stock arrived in case it sold out before Calum felt comfortable spending a large sum of money like that again. 

The store agreed to set one off to the side for him and could keep it on hold until the end of the day. Which was perfect--still gave the two of you time to get lunch. You didn’t need to get anything, didn’t need to do anything. But even after lunch, Calum made one more pit stop. Here now at the gas station, you sit peering through the windshield and can see a mother with her two sons walking from the doors. They boys hold brightly colored icees in their hand, each clutching a bag field with goodies. 

You aren’t entirely sure whey Calum needed to stop here for anything. It’s not like he needed stamps, since he got those at the post office. He hadn’t pulled in to get gas. Lunch had been filling, though you tried not to stuff yourself too much just because you knew that on a long car ride, the last thing you wanted to do was be uncomfortably full. 

The door opens again, Calum strutting through with his glasses covering his eyes and resting comfortably atop the chubby cheeks. Barely hanging from the crook of his fingers is a brown plastic bag. The doors click open and he climbs into the driver seat. The guitar shop wasn’t that far, but today seemed to be a busy day on the road. Took you all too long just to get to the grocery store this morning. 

“Snacks?”

“Was craving something sweet after lunch.” 

You peer into the bag as he hands it over to you. Some gummy bears, gum, a bar or two of chocolate you can’t quite tell. You set it onto the floor at your feet. “Let me know when you want something.” But he’s already tearing into a Twix bar when you glance at him. “Or not,” you laugh. 

“The other stuff is for you--if you want to indulge. Can’t forget ya,” he pushes the glasses down for just a moment to wink at you and then looks into the rearview mirror. 

“Do you think you’re going to get this one?” you asks as the SUV rolls out from the parking lot and onto the asphalt of the highway. 

“Hmm, maybe. Gotta see how it feels first.”

You nod at his question, resting your head into the cushion of the seat. And it goes quiet for a while. The radio plays softly in the background, and every so often the packaging crinkles as Calum downs more of the chocolate and caramel treat. 

“Valentine’s Day is coming up soon,” Calum states, while paused in a bit of traffic. “Got any ideas on what you want to do for it?”

You think for a moment. Valentine’s Day has never been your thing--being perpetually single does that to a person. “Restaurants are going to be a nightmare.”

“Yeah, they will be.” Another crinkle comes from the right side of the car and then his arm reaches behind your seat, finding the small bag of trash you stash there--though you have to be careful when Duke sits in the backseat. Generally though, he doesn’t mess with too much. “My mom sent me a recipe of hers. It’s really good.”

“I’d be down for cooking.”

“Nothing else? Don’t wanna go sky diving? Give me another heart attack?”

You laugh thinking about the first birthday you spent with Calum together as a couple. “You didn’t die.”

“But I did almost shit myself.”

“You can play on stage to thousands of people, but no, jumping from a plane is a no-go.”

“Yes, because I am a sane human.”

You huff out a small tuft of laughter and turn to look at him. One hand on the wheel with the stainless steel linked chain dangling from his wrist. His other arm is resting against the door, gently tapping out a beat with his long slender fingers. “Do you want to do anything?”

“Valentine’s Day,” he scoffs. “How long have we been dating? When have I ever been dying to do anything on some random day in February.” His statement doesn’t fall venomously from his mouth. He even looks over to you with a smile. “I don’t need one day out of 365 to declare my love for someone.”

And it’s true. While Calum wasn’t super accepting of love from new people, while it took you months to show Calum that you were trustworthy and not someone to keep at an arm’s length, once he cracked open, he oozed adoration and love for people. And you knew it was a defense mechanism. You knew that when someone did care as hard as Calum did it wouldn’t always be an easy thing to win over. 

Calum, when he finally let someone one, loved hard. It could be a random Tuesday in July or a Sunday in February, and he would make sure his love was known. He never needed a special occasion to send flowers, to cook dinner, to offer to drive you to doctors appointments because he knew that sometimes you got too nervous or flustered by them to drive but did manage to push through if absolutely necessary. He’d easily pick up some gloves and an extra sponge if he saw you wiping down the walls in the kitchen or wiping through the counter. He kept fridge cleaning days marked on the calendar. And when you added reminders to wash bed sheets to the shared one, he also include rest breaks for you too. 

Calum had never needed someone to force him to show appreciation. 

“I mean, there is the option to literally do nothing on Valentine’s Day. Like treat it as any other day.”

“That’s still something,” he countered, turning on his signal and switching out from the middle lane. His exit was approaching in another mile and a half. 

“Oh fuck off,” you laugh. “We can’t cease to exist that day. Bare minimum we need to convert oxygen into carbon dioxide.”

Calum laughs softly, showing some of his teeth too. “Fair, fair. There’s another Netflix documentary coming out, true crime one. I forget what it’s fully about, but I think it’s about a serial killer if you’d be down to start it then?”

“When would I ever turn down the opportunity to be a detective with you?”

“You haven’t yet,” he states with laughter in his voice. 

“And I never will.” The ramp takes the two of you down and down and soon you’re winding through streets and not too far you can see the shopping center coming into view. He pulls into the lot of the shop and the two of you step out in unison. 

The bell above the door chimes as he opens it for you and you smile often in your thanks. “Hey, Calum!” one of the guys at the register calls out. The store is fairly empty. But you’re not shocked on a Tuesday afternoon. 

“Hey, Derek. How’s it going?” Calum heads directly over to the counter and you look up to the left wall, at the records on display.

“Let me know if you need anything,” the second guy states to you, “or if you want to see anything.” He’s younger than Derek, both look to be equally tattooed from the pieces that peek out from the short sleeve work shirts, but his face is significantly brighter. 

“Thanks,” you return and go back to the displays. You can hear Calum and Derek chatting but slowly tune it out, make it background noise to the music playing through the speakers. 

You turn to walk towards the back where more instruments sit and you can see Calum leaning into the glass display of the counter. The palms of his hand pressed into the metal edge. The sunglasses sit on top of his head and you notice the younger guy glancing over at you again.

He nods again and then goes back to his computer. Nothing else is said. And you look over the stringed instruments, ukuleles, some violins and then you spin around again, done with that lap and go to head up to Calum. “See anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “You’re the musically talented one. I just nod and smile when you talk about it.”

Derek returns, a case in hand. He comes out from the hinged doors that separate the sales floor from the registers and back of the store. You scoot a little closer to the display as the case is transferred over. Calum takes it easily heading to the corner you just abandoned to sit and check out the instrument. It’s a beautiful deep green, almost reminds you of the thick Washington forest. The body is slender. 

“That’s a pretty cool color,” you note, watching Calum work his fingers over the frets. 

He grins up at you. “Think so?” You give another nod. He doesn’t inspect it long before you can see the desire to give in crosses his face. 

Derek’s standing close by and you turn to him and keep your voice as close to a whisper as you can while still being heard. “What’s a bass like that cost?”

He rattles off the price, one eyebrow slightly raised over the other. You know Calum will riot--he’ll pitch a fucking fit. But you reach into your wallet and slide out your card. You had been saving--for a year. You wanted to do something big for Calum. You just didn’t know what it was yet specifically though you had some ideas, a bass was top of the list.  But you didn’t want to try and go out and buy a bass without consulting him, without getting an understanding of what he liked. You thought about maybe a really good leather jacket and some more boots. He loved the ones he had, wore them as much as he could. 

And when you mentioned possibly getting him more, he told you the ones he had were still in good shape. Calum wasn’t the type to just buy clothes to buy them. He indulged here and there, but always made a point to wear something he had down before replacing it. You’d tease the subject a couple more times after that, but he never took the bait and you weren’t going to force him into a thing he didn’t want or need. 

But it’s clear to you that this is something he wants. But he’ll tussle with himself and never give in on it. It’s pricer than you thought it would be. But you too were being smart, having finally paid off the last of your car, you start moving those payments to savings and it helped a great deal. You were fine. You get insurance and the whole deal as Derek advises. By the time you slide the receipt back across the counter, Calum comes back to the registers. “I appreciate you holding it for me, man. But I don’t think I can right now.”

Derek looks at you and you look down into the glass. “It’s--it’s yours, dude.”

“What?” Calum breathes behind you. 

“They-uh, they paid for it,” Derek says, nodding at you.

You can feel the heat in your body now and spin around to face Calum in a rush. “Consider it a not Valentine’s Day gift.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Ever since I finished paying off my car, I saved the payments to do something nice for you. Didn’t know what it was going to be for sure. But I know you, Calum. You’d want something and tell yourself no. I mean you can treat yourself sometimes.”

“You-you didn’t?” His eyes are rapidly blinking, head shaking like he doesn’t want to believe you. Like he can’t believe you as his mouth mumbles out, “No,” repeatedly. 

“It’s yours,” you nod. “It’s really yours.”

If it weren’t for the weight of the bass, you’re sure Calum would’ve tipped over, maybe even rushed to Derek to hand the case back over, but instead he’s weighed down, chained to this spot in the blue speckled carpet of the store, still repeating, “No,” softly. 

“‘I hate to break it to you, but you’re gonna have to find space in your office for it now. Because I refuse to return it.” You step forward, find the handle and slip your hands around it taking it from Calum. A small grunt leaves you and then you start to the door, throwing a thanks to Derek. 

The lights to the SUV blink and you can hear the locks clicking open as you push open the door to the store. “Wait--what are you doing?” Calum asks. 

“Open the trunk please,” you ask. 

“Let me do it,” he demands, stepping in close to take the case with the bass now. “What the fuck did you do? Baby, this is expensive.”

“It’s not a Valentine’s Day gift,” you answer again. “Because I love you. On a random Tuesday.”

He gets the instrument safely into the trunk and then closes it, watching dumbly as you climb into the passenger side. He walks to the driver seat and climbs in, taking you gently by the chin. “That was absolutely reckless and unnecessary-- ”

“I am just absolutely reckless and unnecessary then,” you counter, “because I’m not returning it.”

“--but thank you. Thank you so much,” he continues as if you hadn’t interrupted him. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Then it’s silent, as the two of your gaze at each other, watching what could almost be tears well in his eyes, but they don’t fall. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve a person like you, but whatever it was, I’m glad I did it.”

“I’m glad you did it too.” The two of you return home, Duke rushing to the front door as the two of you step through it. Calum safely places the bass in his music room/office and returns shortly after to help you decide on what to order for dinner. 

As the two of you settle onto the couch, Calum takes your hand and presses a kiss to teach knuckle. “I’m gonna teach you how to play.”

“You know we’ve done this before.”

“And you were good at it.”

“I was alright at it.”

“It’ll be your bass,” he whispers. 

“I bought it for you,” you return tossing your head back to look at him. 

He kisses your lips. “Yeah, but it’ll be the one that I teach you to play for real one and it’ll be yours--just as much as it is mine.”

“A true sap,” you laugh, but nod and return your focus back to the TV. 

In the week that follows, Calum makes sure to take an hour in the evenings to set you down and pick up on the lessons. They fizzled out as work for the both of you picked up. But now things are a bit more calm. He sits next to you, assessing what you remember from last time and correcting finger placements as needed, but they go smoothly. 

When Valentine’s Day does come, Calum pulls you back into bed for just five more minutes of sleep. And five minutes turns into half an hour. But finally you two pull yourself out from the sheets, figure out what to do in the midmorning that results in food being consumed and then you slowly gravitate towards different sections of the house. 

There’s still a bit of laundry to be done and Calum takes Duke out for just a little bit. The two of you migrate back together by mid afternoon. He finds you making a quick lunch and presses a kiss to your cheek. You turn to face him, squeezing at his. “I bought some face masks,” he offers. “Care to join me in doing the bare minimum of converting oxygen into carbon dioxide after your lunch?”

“Don’t see how I could pass up such a wonderful offer? You want anything?” He shakes head, mentioning grubbing on some of the leftovers earlier while you took a nap. 

With your lunch done and the plates cleaned, you find Calum in the bedroom and let him know you’re ready for the face masks. He shuffles to the bathroom. “I hope I got the right one for you,” he mutters. “I got them forever ago it feels, so who the hell knows what I got.” His laughter is soft as he rummages through the bins under the skin. 

“I’ll be in the office,” you tell him and he nods, still pulling bins out. You settle into the couch and spy the green bass still on the stand from yesterday. You pull it into your lap and sling your arm over it. The amp next to you is off, you know but you still pluck away at it as if it were on. 

Calum shuffles in a few minutes later. “Um, babe. It’s off.”

You don’t reply but do look up. He holds up three different packages. “Here’s to hoping one of these is worthwhile.” You place your bass back to the stand and take one that sounds like one you’re okay with using. Calum hands you a towel so you can wipe your fingers off after you get it placed onto your face. He helps get it right and then you help him with his and the two of you slip onto the couch, legs entangled and leaning into opposite ends of the couch.

You laugh at Calum’s story as you scroll mindless through app after app. In the boredom you snap a picture of Calum with the face masks on and don’t think too much of it, saving it to the album with all the silly and cute photos of him are--there are tons. 

“I mean the sun is a star. Though the ones we see have been dead for a long time.”

Calum taps your leg with his foot. “It was a simple question--to be the sun or the stars. I didn’t ask for this philosophical crisis.”

“Why would it not weigh in your decision! If you’re a star like the ones we see at night, you’re technically already dead. You wanna be dead?” You huff, sitting up. 

“I mean, no, but c’mon.”

“It’s a valid thing to consider, that’s all I’m saying!”

He laughs. “Okay, sun or the moon?”

“You first,” you return and just then your alarm on your phone goes off. The two of you shuffle back to the bathroom and take off the masks. 

“Moon, maybe,” he counters. 

You nod. “Fitting. When should we get started on that recipe of your moms? Is it super involved?”

“Nah, it’s pretty easy. Normal time should be good. I’m going to read outside if you want to join.”

“Maybe in a bit.”

Calum nods, grabbing his book as he passes through the bedroom and the patter of Duke’s claws follow behind him. You go back to the music room, turn on the amp and then actually play a little something. It’s nothing fancy--just the arrangement you put together with Calum as a practice exercise once. You play it for a bit, adding a little flair. When you phone rings, you pause to answer it. You wouldn’t normally, but the number looks semi recognizable so you answer it. 

It’s just a scam call and you hang up but then notice some other notifications. Before you realize it, you’re deep into Twitter. You’ve run across the trend of people posting pictures of themselves and their significant others with the caption, The Face Vs The Face Sitting On It. It made you laugh just a little bit at first. And then you kept going down the rabbit hole. Some are silly, most are good pictures. 

While it’s not exactly secret that you and Calum are dating, you two don’t post too much. Calum isn’t incline to post on social media in the first place and while you use it a bit more than him, you try not to post too much about him out of respect. However, as you look tap on quote retweet and bring up your photos you think maybe one silly post wouldn’t hurt. So you grab the one of him recently with the face masks and then one of yourself--it’s silly too, a little blurry too in the darkness that it was taken in. 

You hit post and watch the likes come in. Then keep scrolling. Eventually you have to put the bass away and peel yourself from the couch to find Calum and see if he’s hungry enough for dinner. Just as you round the corner to the office, you spy him stepping through the glass sliding backdoor. “Hungry?” you ask. 

He nods, “Yeah.”

The two of you, with Duke trotting ahead, make your way down the hallway and into the kitchen. “You’re funny,” he states, washing his hands first. 

“Thank you. I’ll be here until you kick me out.”

He laughs. “No, the pictures you posted. On Twitter.”

You’re shocked that he noticed it that fast. Normally it took him a bit longer to see silly stuff like that. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Nah. What I hope you don’t mind is my reply.”

At first you’re nervous. Calum could’ve gone one of two ways--super silly and broke out even worse photos of you possibly not sober or he went super on trend with it and pulled out a photo of you done up for a date night. Not that you preferred one over the other, but sometimes you liked to keep your relationship light on social media. It was easier that way. There wasn’t any real pressure that way. Though the fans seemed to have enjoyed it when you posted more posed and serious content. 

You liked to keep it a bit more real. You and Calum didn’t do the whole nine yards a lot--you two were normal people who hated getting out of bed some days and went as well into the afternoon before showering at times and walked Duke and went to doctor’s appointments like everyone does. So you always opted for a bit of a joke, a silly Tweet or photo whenever you could. 

“What did you post?” you ask. 

He shrugs, taking up the knife to dice the onion. “I’m not telling you.”

You glance at the printed out recipe and get a pan on the aisle over medium heat before pulling out your phone. As you load the app, you listen to the snap of the knife fitting the wooden cutting board. You type Calum’s name and tap onto his profile. 

While there’s is silly--I do want to take a moment to show off my favorite person in the world. So here we go, The Face Vs. The Face Sitting On It. Below is attached a picture of him--you snapped while you two were out for lunch one day. The black t-shirt tight around his biceps as he slyly grins into the camera. The lights in the background are just barely in focus of the resturant and Calum’s glancing out of the window next to him. You remember that you were recording him, or at least you thought you were, and told him that he was handsome. Not the first time, but everytime he did, he blushed and turn away. And you captured it here too. 

The photo of you is actually one with him in it. The guys got together and did a big family dinner and the two of you posed at Crystal’s request in the slightly matching outfits. You hadn’t intended to match--though black was a staple in both your wardrobes. You were a bit different thanks to the pop of color in your shoes, but in the lighting of the street lamp, you had to admit that you did look hot. The first couple of  buttons on your shirt you were undone and with your hands tucked into the pockets, you looked like you owned shit. 

“While I hoped that you’d go with something more silly, I will take this,” you finally say. 

“That picture is literally my background for a reason,” he returns. 

You kiss his cheek and then trace over the stubble with your teeth to his ear. “Can I make a reservation for tonight?”

“The table is reserved for you literally at all times,” he returns in a breathe. 

“Good,” you laugh and then glance back to the recipe. 

[7wanderingpaws]

Captain Bucheon 04

Warnings: language, suggestive

Word count: 4.6K

story masterlist masterlist

tags: @wooya1224 @to-all-the-stories-i-love @jennxx3 @realllllrica (let me know if you want to be un/tagged)​

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<-- Previous - Next -->

Fourth: Painful memories

Baekhyun seemed like a distant dream when you awoke the next day. Everything that happened, starting with your obliviousness to his presence at the field all the way to the moment you slapped him and poured your emotions out; they all felt like they never happened. 

It was your throat, raw and sore from screaming, that indicated last night happened. You woke up tired, feeling your nose clogged and head heavy. As if constantly haunting you, behind closed eyes you saw his; they were looking at you, troubled and wavering. Baekhyun was at your mercy last night. And you were merciless.

One of the painful memories was exceptionally difficult to erase from your mind. Baekhyun's words, that he uttered one year ago in his office, were haunting you and making you believe that things could have been different if you were not lying to him.

I would have waited for you.

Those words were running around in front of your eyes, each word snaking itself in confusing circles creating slight dizziness. Would he have really waited, though?

Groaning, you turned to your other side spotting Yuyeon’s sleeping figure. She wasn’t in the room when you arrived last night, enabling you to cry to your heart's content, which you did. You cried yourself to sleep and now, here was the result. Swollen eyes, headache and a sore throat.

Your phone that was safely tucked under your pillow gave a short vibration, indicating a message. You were waiting for it; it was the last working day after all. Weekend was coming up and you couldn’t wait to get the necessary free time to do your school work and recover from shouting at Byun Baekhyun.

You checked the text message and you planned your day ahead accordingly.

Unknown number

Parcel delivery for the weekend by Sunday 23:30. Bucheon Christian University main gate’s security house.

You frowned, mulling over the destination. Until now, it was always an apartment building and, with the new found information that the messages could have possible secondary destinations encoded, you grew a little uneasy. If issues occurred, would there be another option to deliver the parcel to?

><

There was a hustle going on in Baekhyun’s department that day. Several robberies, crimes and attacks and every officer was preoccupied with suffering victims begging for help and justice.

He also had a couple of cases to deal with, yet he kept zoning out. He barely got a wink of sleep and now he needed to be at his best when he would have much rather stayed home and let himself think through stuff. Not that he didn’t have a whole year to think.

“Knock knock, coffee delivery!” 

Park Chanyeol, the number one detective and also Baekhyun’s close friend, walked in, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. “What’s up Captain?”

“Thanks,” murmured Baekhyun when Chanyeol handed him the mug. “Any news on the case?” he asked, ignoring his friend’s question completely.

Chanyeol crashed on the chair opposite him with a sigh. “Nope,” he replied. “No solid updates. No leads. The attack was sudden and we can’t seem to find a trace of the target.”

Baekhyun sighed. “Two young women have been attacked so far. They were in their mid-twenties.”

“Actually, both of them were in their final year of university,” added Chanyeol with a serious tone.

“That could be a solid lead,” murmured Baekhyun even though his mind was wandering off again. He was quick to zone out on his friend who continued describing the crime scenes, thinking out loud but Baekhyun was already on a completely different page.

You were just seventeen… and he was so heartless. He could vividly remember the actual happenings in his office. He was sitting just where he was seated now, behind his big table full of paperwork and computer while you were becoming smaller and smaller under his smoldering gaze. 

Baekhyun was extremely mad that day. He couldn’t remember the last time he was that mad. Not even the forever annoying Siamsa could annoy him to those bits and he was slowly realizing that it must have been because he liked you much more than he had let himself believe. You betraying his trust, seeing him as a fool and doing stupid stuff behind his back were the exact things he despised in humans. Yet, you did all of them. And one year later, here he was, with you on his mind.

He cringed inwardly when he remembered the harsh words he told you.

You were stupid enough to get caught.

You can be goddamn sure I wouldn’t talk to a KID.

It was a grave mistake to talk to you.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, not even catching Chanyeol abruptly stopping his talk. Baekhyun was way too brutal with you. He groaned out loud when he remembered another horrible thing he said. I’m breaking up with you if it wasn’t obvious enough. Plus, I’m arresting you…

“Are you okay? You really seem out of it today.” Chanyeol seemed concerned and even a little perplexed as Baekhyun rarely showed this kind of behavior in front him, let alone showing it at his workplace. In the office, Baekhyun was the one to be scared of, to be respected and bowed to. This Baekhyun seemed like if Chanyeol pushed him with his finger, he'd crumble.

“I'm fine,” muttered back the captain with a throaty voice.

Chanyeol pursed his lips, unsure how to ask what had been on his mind since he entered the office. Instead of wanting to deal with a serious talk, a cheeky glint lit up in his eyes. “Perhaps you met her again?”

“Her?” Baekhyun frowned with a down-ward tilt on his lips.

Chanyeol wiggled his eyebrows as he stretched on the chair. “You know who!” he took a breath and with his deep voice, started to sing:

She looked incredible Just turned 17 I guess my friends are right She's out of my league So what am I to do? She's too good to be true

Baekhyun couldn't help himself when he heard the lyrics his friend correlated with you. They couldn't have been more accurate and despite him being in a bad mood, the idea made him laugh under his nose as he looked on the floor. “Actually, I did. And I got slapped,” he revealed somehow proudly as he let himself sit on his chair, enjoying the astonished look on Chanyeol's face.

“No way!” he straightened up in his seat, leaning forward so he could get a better look at his friend. “She slapped you? Damn, this girl is feisty. She keeps beating up our captain!” he laughed out loud, consumed by the images of you, the young woman in her late teenage years, slapping someone of Baekhyun's calibre.

“Yeah, well, she's always been fearless.” he shrugged, frowning out of a sudden. “I screwed that girl up pretty badly, Chan, but that's no news.”

Chanyeol went quiet for a minute, fully aware of Baekhyun's emotions and the way the past events had been eating him up. “How is she doing these days?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “I guess well? She's lost some weight, but,” he sighed and proceeded to talk about the event that he witnessed with the boys sexually harassing you.

“The kids these days can't keep it in their pants,” cackled Chanyeol in disbelief but Baekhyun was far from entertained. His jaw was locked, the skin pulsing with tension at the mere idea of last night.

“If they ever as much as think about her I swear to god-”

“Whoa, hold on, Baek. You know you can't just get involved.”

“What do you mean I can't just get involved? They were harassing her, and I'm a cop.”

“I think your rage is more fueled because it's about Nari. As much as you seek justice, you shouldn't let your emotions take the better out of you. Besides, people might get suspicious-”

“Chanyeol, what the fuck?” snapped Baekhyun angrily. “If she were any woman I'd do the same.”

“You would not punch in order to protect just any woman.”

“Yes, I would-”

“No, you would do the smart talk and intimidate them with your power and  authority. But you punched the kid, Baek.”

Baekhyun sighed in agitation, his hand coming yet again up to his face, tiredly rubbing at the skin. “So what should I have done? I myself am confused about my emotions but I know I care about her a lot.”

“Of course you care about her. You drank straight up one month after she found out about your fake boyfriend identity and you broke up.”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes, hating the way Chanyeol was so blunt with his words. “Either way, she still hates me.”

“Would you fight for her if she ever gave you a chance?” asked Chanyeol quietly, his fingers nipping at his lower lip in thought.

Baekhyun opened his mouth, ready to answer way too quickly before he stopped himself. He was frozen when he realized the answer that so naturally came to him. Would he fight for you if you ever decided to build the bridges again? He definitely would have one year ago when he came to your high school to see you.

“You're hesitating,” stated Chanyeol and pursed his lips. “I think you're scared, too, captain.”

Baekhyun scoffed but Chanyeol cut him off: “You would hate losing her again. And she is a fragile kid, scarred by everything that happened to her. She could be even more vulnerable with you. Remember that.”

><

“Where are you going?” asked Yuyeon, confused, when you were putting on your black jeans and a black hoodie. The helmet for the scooter was already tucked under your arm, ready to leave for the Saturday night. Time was ticking in your brain and you grew quite anxious about possible bad outcomes of this delivery if you wouldn't leave right away.

“Work,” you shrugged, “will get this done and then I will be free,” you smiled, a little strained but Yuyeon only gave you a suspicious side glance.

“You never work on the weekends! This employer is already playing with you and telling you to work even when it's not your official hours,” she frowned deeply, looking like a sulking child.

You sighed and suppressed the need to roll your eyes. “Okay, mum, I'll be back in time, no worries.”

“You better be! I won't fuss about wanting to go to a club when you're oh so busy.”

“I promise we can go next Friday!” you shouted, opening the door to put on your shoes.

She grumbled in response and you laughed to yourself, slamming the doors behind you when you slid your feet into your boots. Making sure they were tied well, you rushed out into the chilly evening, making your way to the mini-scooter Chul borrowed you so you could get the job done easier.

Bucheon Christian University was a little further away from your campus, so you made sure you followed the map carefully once you got the box from the apartment you usually got it from. The apartment itself was a high-rise, family friendly building and, just like the previous times, this box was also very light in your arms despite it being a little bigger. You had a spare rope under the seat of the scooter, so you tied it securely so it wouldn't fall when you had it between your feet.

As you were reaching the destination, you realized your palms were becoming more sweaty. Your heartbeat, usually quiet, was now gently beating in your ears, letting you know the stress levels were rising.

“You arrived at your destination,” said the GPS when you passed a big entrance that was leading into a small campus with white buildings that seemed too out of the place. Wanting to get the job done quickly, you searched with eager eyes for a little building that would be the security office, getting off the scooter and untying the delivery.

Seeing a box-like metal security office for the car park barrier you swallowed harshly, walking up to it. There were no signs of life inside, the lights out and the barriers probably working on auto mode. For other people, it must have looked ridiculous - you walking with a bigger box towards the security office but you could only hope no one would see your face which was the reason why you were reluctant to take the helmet off.

You were walking up to what you deemed the correct destination, but you couldn't help the uneasy feeling. There is no need, you insisted in your mind, because this was the correct destination. You would put the box down in front of the doors and just leave. Yes. That was correct.

Despite your weak reassurances, you kept looking around making sure you weren’t missing another spot. Your heartbeat was still gently pumping in your ears, reminding you that this was a little more stressful than the previous outings.

As you reached the doors to the security office, you put the box down more to the side as the doors were directly in front of the road for the cars. Feeling the relief of accomplishing another day of delivery, you turned around and started walking back towards the scooter, the tension slowly but surely easing up. You looked back several times to make sure the box was still there and with that you sat on the scooter and rode away, excited that you didn’t miss out on the night just yet.

If Yuyeon would be up for fun, you could finally go and be reckless!

><

Baekhyun was about to turn off the lights and call it a night at 9pm when a loud set of knocks disturbed his peace. Thinking it was his friends who wanted to give him a surprise visit, he swiftly opened the door only to be surprised when he spotted a ball of pink.

“The hell are you doing here?” he snapped, not moving to let the uninvited guest in.

Siamsa, or, to Baekhyun, Sooah, rolled her eyes as she stepped closer. “Well, hi to you, handsome. I’ll tell you if you let me in.”

“Well, I don’t want to know,” he replied in an even voice. “So that makes it easier. Bye-“

“Wait!” she exclaimed quickly and made a step in, wanting to prevent him from slamming the door shut in her face. “It’s about your ex.”

He didn’t want to admit it; but his heart jumped at the mention of you. Sooah never cared enough about Baekhyun’s other exes before her. Unfortunately for you, you came after her and Siamsa, the kpop sensation, was not processing it well. “If you’re gonna talk bullshit, I’ll spare myself the time-“

“If you want to protect her, you should listen,” she sing-sang nonchalantly, playing with the ends of her long hair. It was dyed blond and made her seem innocent which she was far from.

“And how would you know what’s up with Nari? You’ve already done so much shit in the past! What makes you think I’ll believe you?”

Sooah shrugged, pretending to be unbothered. “Well, I care about your well-being, Baekhyun. I know you care about her. I know the break-up was brutal. You locked up her brother-“

Baekhyun was fast to grab her by her wrist and yank her inside, quickly kicking the door shut. Sooah had a satisfied smirk on her face when she took in his distressed expression. “How. Do. You. Know. That.”

“Mhmm, so hot,” she whispered with a wink, mocking him. “I always liked how manly you are, my little one-“

“Listen,” he cut her off angrily, the nickname making him shudder inwardly, “I don’t care about your fucking games. I’m way past you and all your stupid shit. But I swear to god, if you do something to Nari-“

“You seem to have luck on girls who do stupid shit,” she mimicked him as she stood closer, making sure her breath fanned his chin. “Nari seems to go from one trouble to another. One day she might as well end up like her brother,” she laughed to herself.

“How do you know about her brother?” he asked again in a low tone, trying hard to ignore the anger he felt whenever she mentioned you.

Sooah pulled a fake thinking face, tapping her slender finger with perfect nail art on her chin. “For starters, don’t underestimate my honesty, Baekhyun. I know more than you think. I really care about you, you know,” she mumbled the last sentence and dared to reach up with her hand, touching his cheek gently. “Me messing up by protecting my identity - you were too harsh with me back then, sweetie.”

Baekhyun sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and moving his face away from her touch. She was bringing up the past and he didn’t like it; he didn’t want to dive in it. Sooah was a great manipulator and he didn’t want to fall down the guilt rabbit hole when he knew he did the right thing in the past. “We are done with that talk.”

“I was never done with that talk,” she was fast to protest. “You were. I still want you.” When she moved to stand closer to him, Baekhyun quickly stood back and away from her. “Baekhyun!”

“Tell me what you know about Lee Nari and then leave!”

“I want something in return,” she rebutted quickly, even confidently, but the desperation on her face was speaking volumes. “And I’ll tell you all I know.”

He grit his jaw, hard. “I swear to god, Sooah, stop testing me-“

“It’s noona for you,” she murmured with a sharp gaze that kept flickering over his features. He always looked good, but judging from his outfit, she knew he was preparing to sleep. That hoodie would soon be taken off and those plaid pants too. Her mind swirled just at the thought of it.

“We are done with that too—“

“You can’t fight the age difference, baby,” she purred and stepped closer. She enjoyed seeing his internal conflict. Despite being a harsh captain, she knew which buttons to push for him to submit, although she didn’t like that it involved you. She hated that the only way she could talk to Baekhyun was if she mentioned your name.

Baekhyun sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ok. Speak. Otherwise I’m throwing you out.”

Sooah burst out into laughter, quickly hiding her laminated teeth and scrunched up nose behind her hand. “You manhandling me wouldn’t be the first time, Captain,” she said in a low, sensual tone as she trailed her long fingernail over his chest. She could have sworn it was more toned than the last time she had the pleasure of touching it. “And you know how much I like it.” When she saw him closing his eyes in exasperation, she trailed the finger upwards to his prominent collarbones before she took the side of his neck in her palm, running her thumb over the pulse point. “God, I miss you so much. Like, so, so much, my sweetie.” She knew she was testing the limits. She also knew an angry Baekhyun was anything but good news. She refused to spare him, though. “Your girlfriend is a bad girl. She’ll easily become a criminal if she continues doing the bad stuff.”

Baekhyun snapped his eyes open. “Is she up to something these days?” he asked almost breathily.

Her fingers traveled to the nape of his neck and she buried them in the hair, lightly scratching at the skin. Baekhyun was fighting the shuddering feeling, hoping his body wouldn’t betray him.

“Oh, yes. When isn’t she up to something,” she mumbled thoughtfully, her hawk eyes taking note of Baekhyun’s slight blush. He was getting affected with her ministrations and she stepped closer to him. He didn’t move away.

“What is it?” he hummed when her other hand massages his chest in small circles. “What is it that she is doing?”

Sooah had a mischievous glint in her eyes as she bit her bottom lip in triumph. “Give me a kiss and I’ll tell you-“

“No games!” snapped Baekhyun angrily, his eyes stormy as he glared at her.

“Then you won’t find out!”

“Sooah!”

“Just a magic word and a little kiss is all I want, sweetie,” she whispered, enjoying his intent stare on her. “I promise that’s all I will want and you get to access all you need to know.”

“No,” he shook his head resolutely. “I don’t care.”

“You care so fucking much about her,” it was her turn to spit now, gradually getting infuriated with his reluctance to submit to her. “Or do you want me to, perhaps…” she trailed off, puckering her lips, feigning thinking, “tell everyone in her school you dated her as an underaged kid?”

That was it for Baekhyun. Something snapped within him and he made a threatening step towards his ex, who didn’t even budge at his abruptness. “I dare you to say a single word that would harm her reputation, Sooah. I dare you to. She already went through so much shit because of me and her family.”

Sooah was smirking as she watched the captain's troubled, but hard face. It hurt her, but she wasn’t the most emotionally literate person; she was selfish and sometimes enjoyed suffering of others. That was how a very bad product of the entertainment industry looked like. Whether she would admit it was questionable. Sooah would never give Baekhyun up when her emotions for him were so deep, when the man was desirable so much. It was always a given that he was a one of a kind man and she always wanted everything that was one of a kind.

“What a good man you are, Byun Baekhyun,” she hummed, her eyes focused on his lips. “Caring about a child so much. A child who lied to you from the very first start.”

“Whatever the hell you are trying to do here, leave it,” gritted Baekhyun eventually. “And tell me what she is up to.”

“I already told you what’s the price!” she whined, making Baekhyun frown. “A kiss. On the lips.” With her finger, she tapped her lower lip, excitement cursing through her when she saw Baekhyun eyeing her mouth. “And then the secrets are all yours.”

It was tempting; not the kiss, but the reward. Baekhyun’s mind was racing with possibilities, with outcomes. Then he became worried. He knew how twisted Sooah could be, and were she to talk in front of your school about your relationship, you’d most probably never forgive him for letting it happen and he himself would be in huge trouble. Maybe that thought was even stronger than his need to know whether you were in trouble or not.

To make Baekhyun’s pondering a little easier, Sooah boldly pressed her palm against his toned stomach, the muscles instantly flexing upon her intrusive touch. Sooah knew Baekhyun was a very sensitive man; a single tingle on his neck could turn him on, the lightest of scratches could make him stand up proud. She knew he had to be affected by her minimal ministrations. She knew him perfectly. Touching up the ridges around the muscles, she let her hand slide lower to his abdomen before reaching to cup his—

Baekhyun slapped her hand away with a growl and pressed her against the door. “One fucking kiss and you’ll spill everything,” he breathed. She couldn’t even react before he pressed his lips harshly against hers, the texture of her lip gloss attaching to his lips. Sooah groaned, arms instantly hugging his neck. Her long finger nails scratched his nape and Baekhyun’s will was becoming weaker. 

The familiar scent of her strong, sweet perfume wafted over his senses, reminding him that this was not the woman he cared about anymore. Her eager tongue pushed his lips apart and was fast to battle with his own. The way she kissed him was nothing but desperate, needy, a call for attention. He hated it. The last time he kissed a woman— a girl was a year ago and her lips were the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Despite her being brave with him, her kisses were shy, careful, kitten-like and Baekhyun accidentally groaned at the thought of that. 

He pressed his lips harsher against this woman’s while imaging an innocent girl behind his eyelids. His hands were pressed against the door but he wanted to touch so bad. He only got to touch her once and not the way he would have liked, and now he had to fight the urge to let his hands slide around the curves, to outline her behind while her chest would be pressed against his.

He was quickly reminded that the body pressing against him was indeed not Lee Nari. Sooah had a slim physique with a flat chest and a big space between her thighs. He loved it once, but not anymore.

Before Sooah could cup his private part again he broke the kiss, desperately needing some air and needing to snap out of his deep fantasy. Blinking several times, he got to see the face that went through so many changes with plastic surgery and when she smiled at him with swollen lips, he realized how unreal this woman was. Unreal and unfaithful.

“What is Lee Nari doing ?” he breathed, the question coming out in a low murmur, his lips visibly swollen.

The spark that was in Sooah’s eyes left, quickly interchanged with hate and betrayal. “Is this what you ask me right after you kissed me?” she shrieked, causing Baekhyun to flinch. “You just had your tongue in my mouth and you dare to say a little girl’s name afterwards?”

Sooah wasn't wrong about you being a little girl. She was older by fourteen years after all; she saw you as a complete kid. Which made Sooah feel even more devastated and enraged; Baekhyun dated someone so incredibly young, half of her age. It made her feel like she couldn't compare.

“I’m not going to ask you any more. You got what you wanted. Get out of my flat if you don’t do anything useful,” replied Baekhuyn with a hard glare.

“She is delivering drugs,” snapped Sooah and Baekhyun was shocked to find tears in her eyes as she spoke. “That’s who she is now, Baekhyun. She is delivering illegal stuff on a scooter and she doesn’t even have a driving license.”

It felt like someone poured a scorching hot water over him. You and drugs? And you didn’t have a driving license while driving a vehicle? So many thoughts raced through his mind, so many questions left unanswered. What the hell were you up to? “And you know this how?”

Sooah shrugged. “None of your damn business.”

“It is if it involves Nari.”

Sooah scoffed mockingly. “Then sleep with me.”

“You need help, Sooah,” replied Baekhyun somehow compassionately after a moment of silence. Taking the singer’s arm in his, he turned her and opened the door so he could push her out to the corridor. “And immediately. You’re sick in your head. Treat your obsession and then we can still be friends maybe.”

“You’re a heartless bastard, Baekhyun,” whispered Sooah, not turning around. “You better watch out for the university festival. Your girlfriend will be my puppet.”

She started walking with purposeful steps towards the elevator, not looking back and not noticing the way Baekhyun’s face fell with dread.

But the girl had been hurt enough.

><><><><><><><><

A/N: thank you for reading! I had lots of fun with this chapter! Let me know your thoughts, there is so much happening over here >.<

Lyrics credit: McFly - That Girl

[fanfic-me-up]

Unwithering | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (1)

Part Two

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Prompt: Flower shop AU, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Warnings: Mild Swearing. Flowery language (pun intended 😉... I’ll show myself out)

Word Count: 2,250

Taglist: Reply to this post if you want to be added for future chapters!

A/N: This is for @bnhabookclub​ event going on! Thank you for giving new writers in the fandom, like me, a place to promote their work. Shout out to @smolmilkyways​ for letting me use this beautiful piece of fanart above! Go check them out! Also, thanks @gallickingun​ for letting me tag you in my first fic. You gave me some pretty solid advice that pushed me to get this out here. This was originally a one-shot, but of course it turned into a multi-chap, so stay tuned for more! 

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Your fists gripped the hem of your dress. The sunflowers on it reminded you of him; a burning sun at the center of your universe. The boy in front of you crinkled his forehead at your statement; as if the love you spent years building up the courage to confess was no more than a pebble - insignificant - that he could kick to the side without a second thought.

Midoriya gave you a slight thumbs up from the back, but the rest of the boys cackled with no remorse. 

“You hear that, Bakugou? She looovvveesss you!”

“Freaky flower girl and Bakugou sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G”

“Awww is she gonna cry?”

The lump in your throat was difficult to swallow, but you refused to prove them right. It would only add fuel to the fire threatening to burn the seed planted in your heart.

He stepped toward you. The scent of burnt sugar filled your lungs; like fresh apples picked from your mother’s garden, dipped in melted caramel. You heard it’s a side effect from his quirk, but it was the first time you were close enough to experience it for yourself. 

You willed your eyes to find his. The soft breeze blowing past provided a cooling relief to the intense heat felt in your cheeks. When your eyes locked, a spark flashed within his own. You couldn’t catch it in time, but your heart stuttered in response.

 Any chance of a flower blooming died the next moment.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

A year passed before you saw Katsuki Bakugou again.

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

“Here’s your pickup order, Tanaka-san, I’m sure your wife will love them!” 

You ring up the older gentleman who’s been a regular at your mother’s flower shop for years. His wife loves the smell of scented geranium, a sweet apricot that never fails to remind her of the orchards back home. He’s convinced your flowers are the reason she’s still here; the true medicine to her illness.

You always deny this statement, shaking your head with a playful giggle, but the compliment warms you. It’s nice to hear people cared about your flowers.

“She loves only the ones made by you, dearest.”

He winks as his shaking hands grab the large bouquet. You smile and turn your hand, palm up, towards Tanaka whose eyes never fail to widen in awe at your quirk in action. A small stem sprouts from the center of your palm, growing taller by the second. You hone in on the bright yellow dot on the center of each petal. A wash of white forms around each dot, acting as a transition for the violet that envelops the rest of the petals.

Each petal opens up one by one to reveal a golden bud. 

You hand the flower to Tanaka.

“On the house,” you wink back. 

“Oh very nice, very nice, indeed,” he bows in thanks, “What is the meaning of this one?”

“Irises give hope. In Chinese tradition, it is referred to as ‘the purple butterfly’ because its petals flutter like butterflies.” 

The breeze from outside trails in at the perfect time and the petals flutter about.

“Very pretty,” Tanaka remarks, “I’ll be sure to let the misses know about this one!”

He thanks you one more time before walking out with a newfound spring in his step; the lone flower nestled in the pocket of his worn out janitor uniform. 

You’ve been working at Paradise Blooms for the past three years after your parents separated, and your mom needed the extra hand more than ever. It was difficult balancing school and work, especially when you were busy prepping for U.A. exams last year, but you could never say no to your mom. She’s been the constant in your life since day one.

The back door to the supply room squeaks.

“A little help here?” 

All you see is the top of your mom’s head, adorned with a multi-colored flower crown. Her face is covered by the high pile of crates she’s trying not to drop. You rush to catch the top crate before it tumbles.

“Phew. That was a close one. Thanks, honey!” 

She bends down to take the supplies out, arranging the items on the counters around the shop. She weaves through the aisles - it looks more like a garden than an actual shop, in your opinion, but you think it gives the place character. She stops at the row of potted flowers sitting on the far right of the shop, soaking in the sunlight cast through the window. It’s the new collection your mom got in time for the 2020 Garden Glow Event. Every year, flower shops all over the city participated in an annual gardening event to educate the public on gardening techniques with fun activities for the children. Your mom spent hours on the phone dealing with difficult vendors to get this specific collection for the event. Water sprinkles out from her palm as she takes the time to water each and every flower.

Since there’s no customers at the moment, you grab the broom from the storeroom and set to sweeping around the shop. It’s not long before your mom’s watering routine is interrupted by her phone ringing.

“Hello?” You continue sweeping, gently humming along to the tune playing through the speakers, but your voice catches when you hear, “Mitsuki! Hi! How are you?” 

Mitsuki? Your mom couldn’t possibly be talking to Mitsuki... Bakugou? 

Your knuckles turn white from squeezing the life out of the poor broom as you wait for confirmation. 

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The memories you tried so hard to forget come flooding all at once.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

You’re snapped out of the memory.

“Yes, bring him in! Great! See you in a few, bye.” 

Your mother returns to watering the flowers like nothing happened - like that single phone call didn’t just turn your world upside down, after you spent the last year flipping it right side up.

“Who was that?” 

You’re afraid of the answer. 

You promised yourself you moved on from Katsuki Bakugou. It proved to be easier said than done. Even if you both went to separate high schools and most of your days were spent either studying or working; at night is when your thoughts strayed. You wondered what he was up to… was he passing all his classes? You’d giggle at the absurdity of Katsuki not being number one. Was he still bullying Midoriya? Did you ever cross his mind?

Was he happy?

Because more than anything, you wished him happiness - even if that happiness was not with you. Was that weakness? Was wishing for someone’s happiness, who could care less about you, considered weakness? 

“Hm?” Your mom turns to you, “Oh! That was Mitsuki Bakugou. Her son, Katsuki - I believe you went to school with him? Well, he needs a part-time job to help pay for tuition. Can you believe he got into U.A.? Mitsuki must be so proud of him.”

“I figured you’d be happy,” she continues, " I know you’ve been struggling with balancing school and work, so I thought having another person around would help lighten the load a little bit. Besides, I owed Mitsuki a favor.”

Your mother blushes at the last part.

Favor? What favor?

But that’s the last thing on your mind when you suddenly feel the need to pass out.

Katsuki… is… working… here? 

“Honey, are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“I - I’m not sure I can…” you trail off. Your mom didn’t know about your confession to Katsuki. When you came home in tears that day, with your dress all wrinkled, you told her it was because kids were bullying you for trying and failing to get into U.A. 

It was the half-truth. 

“Y/N, did something happen between you and Katsuki? I can call Mitsuki back right now if you don’t feel comfortable with him around.” 

It was as easy as breathing or using your quirk, second nature, all you had to do was utter a two letter word and your mom would immediately have Mitsuki on the line, apologizing for the inconvenience, but making sure to recommend a few places in the area who were hiring. A simple “no” and your world would become right side up again, the boy you loved long forgotten during the day and only remembered at night when there’s nothing to consume your mind, but him. 

Taking the easy way called out to you, beckoning you to relinquish your strength, and give in. But if you couldn’t face one boy, then maybe Katsuki was right. Maybe you were weak. 

“I’m fine, mom, I can work with him,” you say.

Pounding footsteps against the pavement outside cut your mom off from her next words.

“OI! LET ME GO, OLD WOMAN, I’LL KILL YOU!” 

“CALL ME THAT ONE MORE TIME AND SEE WHERE IT GETS YOU!” 

Your breath hitches at the sound. You haven’t heard that voice in over a year; it’s gotten deeper, raspier in tone. You take a few breaths in and out to calm yourself so you don’t melt into the floor at first glance.

The door swings open - the “We’re Open” sign rattles dangerously against the glass -  and in barges Mitsuki Bakugou, dragging her son by the ear.

Katsuki struggles to get out of his mother’s grasp, his arms stretch toward the door, but Mitsuki pulls him all the way inside.

“I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF TRAINING, WOMAN!”

“AND NOW YOU’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF GETTING A JOB!”

“I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS SHIT!”

“YOU’LL MAKE TIME!”

Katsuki growls. His palms curving into themselves like he’s trying to reign in his quirk from exploding Paradise Blooms where it stands.

You and your mom look at each other, unsure how to inject yourselves in the rather awkward exchange. Truthfully, you’re not surprised by the interaction; you’ve seen Katsuki and his family at school events in the past. The Bakugous had an… interesting family dynamic. 

Mitsuki notices the both of you watching and immediately releases Katsuki. She smiles and greets your mom with a hug as if the previous interaction never happened.

“Y/Mom’s/N, it’s great to see you! How’s the event planning coming along?”

Your mom and Mitsuki engage in small talk for a couple minutes leaving you to sneak a quick glance over at Katsuki leaning against the door. He’s looking out the window with a scowl on his face. He crosses his arms to stop himself from fisting his palms, a sign you picked up on when he’s itching to get on the field and obliterate. 

You find yourself thinking how beautiful and destructive at the same time.

Once Mitsuki and your mom finish catching up, she directs her attention towards you. 

“And you must be Y/N?  Your mother has told me so much about you!”

You catch the flash of recognition in Katsuki’s eyes, but you’re wrapped in a hug before you can think. The hug is a bit awkward with the counter digging into your side, but the warmth radiating off Mitsuki makes you feel at home. She lets go of you and turns around to where Katsuki is still standing by the door, ready to leave the first chance he gets.

“And this is my son, Katsuki,” she beckons him over, but when he doesn’t move she barks, “Don’t be rude! Get over here and introduce yourself.” 

Katsuki grumbles under his breath, but trudges over. 

“Sup.”

Mitsuki growls and slaps Katsuki over the head, “Oi! Where are your manners!?” 

She glances apologetically, “I’m sorry. He’s… a bit much to handle. I really appreciate you agreeing to hire him. He’s had trouble in the past with defying authority.”

Katsuki scowls at the ground when Mitsuki pats his head affectionately this time. 

“But he’s a good kid at heart, a little rough around the edges, but overall a good kid. I hope you’re able to see that and work with him.” 

She bows; her hand on Katsuki’s head nudges him to do the same. His nose twitches, but he listens this time.

Your mother is an empathetic person, able to walk all paths of life and notice the beauty in each one. It wasn’t like her to turn someone down in need. 

Your mom smiles, “I’m happy to work with Katsuki. What about you, Y/N?”

She’s giving you a way out for the last time. 

Mitsuki looks at you, hope in her eyes.

Doubt laid out its hand for you to take; to lead you away from the pain that still ate away at you everyday. The teasing. The pointing. The rejection from U.A. and from Katsuki. Working with him would force you to face the pain head on.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

You lock eyes with Katsuki for the first time since that day many moons ago; he’s awaiting your answer, a twinge of hope laced in his eyes overshadowed by a grimace. 

You wonder if you now hold the fuel to the fire threatening to burn the tiny seed of hope he’s trying so hard to bury.

For better or for worse, you were also a person who found beauty in all paths of life.

“Welcome aboard,” you say.

[silma-words]

14. “Just please be my best friend right now, not the guy I just confessed my love to.” for adrian x mc?

N/A: Thank you for the prompt @detectivedumortain 😊 I don’t know if this is what you had in mind, but I hope you will like it!

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Pairing: Adrian Raines x MC (Ellie)

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Alcohol consumption

Category: Random fluff

Summary: Bloodbound AU (after book 1 – the events of book 2 never happened) – While Ellie is gone out with her friends, Adrian receives a much unexpected message from her after she has had one too many drinks…

Inspired by prompt #14 from Prompt List #1: “Just please be my best friend right now, not the guy I just confessed my love to.”

Words: 2450

**Disclaimer: Characters and background plot are the property of Pixelberry.**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hangover

Adrian was lying lazily on his couch, nose buried deep in the folds of an old worn-out book, when a sound made him jump out of his concentration, drawing his attention to the phone lying face down on the coffee table. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting between the device and the page he very much wanted to keep exploring. When the ping was immediately followed by another four, he smiled fondly and dropped the book onto his lap, knowing with certainty who these texts would be from.

*You don’t know what you’re missing*

*Drop your boring book and join us*

*I promise you won’t regret it*

*They have that fancy whiskey you love, Macallan Sherry Oak*

*And play decent music that even you would approve of*

Her texts made him chuckle, secretly filling him with warmth knowing that she was thinking about him on her night out with Lily and a few of their friends. As much as Adrian wanted to spend all of his time with her if he could, he was convinced that they both needed some time for themselves once in a while. Especially when Ellie and Lily were planning to meet with some of their common friends, with whom it was always a little tricky to keep up appearances to make sure they did not find out about the vampire world.

Adrian was not a huge fan of texting, but he couldn’t leave her hanging. That, and he also did appreciate the chance to interact a little with her despite the distance.

*Macallan Sherry Oak, hum? Consider me impressed*

The fact that she remembered which whiskey his favourite was made him smile. She did not lie during her interview: she did have a great memory.

*Sounds tempting, but maybe another time? I feel that I’d enjoy this new bar way more with you alone*

Once he read over his text again, he worried for a second that it might have been a tad too blunt. He really needed to get a hand around these ‘emoji’ thingies, and start using those. It took a few minutes until the phone pinged again with her response.

*Is that a date then, Mr Raines?*

The winking smiley face ending her message eased his worries instantly. Another proof that emojis did actually have a purpose.

*Sure it is, Miss Reed*

His answer was met with a flurry of pictograms, making him smile brightly, before he drifted back to his reading, confident that Ellie would be soon too distracted by her friends to continue their exchange. And he was right. His phone remained awfully quiet for hours, letting him indulge in his ‘boring book’ (her words) and slowly doze off on the sofa.

When he eventually woke up from his unexpected nap, his attention was captured by the flickering light of his phone, indicating that he had missed a few notifications while he was out. A couple of work emails, a few newsflash from his financial news app, and... eleven text messages, and five missed calls. All from Ellie.

He raised up quickly to sit properly and open the messages, a ball forming in his throat at the idea that maybe something had happened. It wouldn’t be the first time. This woman had a talent for trouble. But his worries faded instantly upon browsing quickly over her texts, which were... nothing but a succession of random pictures of her evening, accompanied by random sentences full of typos. The series of text ended with a bunch of random fruit and veg emoji that Adrian was not quite sure how to interpret.

Adrian chortled at this. Well, the girls were having a good night by the looks of it!

Checking the timing of her missed calls, he saw that these had been only a few minutes apart, but that she had eventually left a couple of voice messages. He could not repress a laughter upon hearing her inebriated voice as he started listening to the first recording, nearly able to picture from her pitch the blissful smile that must have adorned her lips as she spoke.

*Hey, handsome! I guess you’re probably asleep or something but... huumm, I just wanted to hear your voice... because I... hum, well... I guess ‘cause I’m missing you like crazy right now and I wish you were here... although tis’ probably best you’re not, you’d probably be embarrassed of my sorry drunk ass right now but... aaarh, I guess I just wanted you to know that I miss you, even if I see you aaaalll the tiiiime and... aaarrg I probably shouldn’t say that... you’re goin’ to freak out and think I’m like some kind of overly needy panda bear clinging to your leg... oh god, why the hell am I sayin’ t...* /end of message/

Adrian’s smile was nearly reaching his ears by the time that first message was cut by the robotic voice, the corner of his eyes crinkled with amusement, but his eyes gleaming with warmth at the sound of Ellie’s declaration. The seconds he had to wait for the next voice message to play nearly seemed interminable.

*Hum, well... sorry about that... hum… right, hum… nevermind! Well, I should probably get going now and leave you to whatever your old ass is doin’ right now but… aaarh I guess I’ll see you soon at work on Monday anyway… or before if you want, or… but if you don’t that’s fine… aaarh ok, that’s me hanging up now, before I get even weirder… byyyye!! I love you!.......... ooohhh sh…* /end of message/

Well. That was a hell of a message. Adrian was beaming, the sound of her voice still ringing in his ears, the sweetness and awkwardness of her ramble warming his body all over. And his heart was slowly restarting after it had jumped and landed with a thud when he had heard her last words.

He had definitely not been expecting that. Neither did she, by the sound of the muttered curse that seemed to have followed. Neither of them had spoken these words before. Neither of them had dared rushing things by voicing their feelings out loud. Although to Adrian, those feelings were as clear as day. Silently expressed in the way he looked at her, touched her, cared for her. But he did not want to presume that Ellie was feeling the same, although he had been desperately hoping so. Hearing her saying it out loud was a relief, an unexpected gift that he was not still entirely sure he deserved.

But what to do now? Should he say it back? Run to find her to tell her he felt the same? She might not even remember saying it, judging by the state of intoxication she seemed to have been under when she called. She might even regret it, or might not have even meant it. The conflicting thoughts now rushing through his head instantly washed down the smile from his lips. Oh God, it was like being a teenager all over again!

He had to go and see her. At least to check if she had made it home ok.

His mood swinging from elation to anxiety as he was replaying her messages in his head, he made his way to Lily’s and Ellie’s apartment, eager to see her but nervous about what he should say. That journey seemed to last forever. So did waiting at the door for someone to let him in, his ears trained on the slow and familiar heartbeat he could hear through the solid wood. Luckily, Lily was quick to answer the door, although she was clearly surprised.

“Hey A!” she greeted him with a smile, before furrowing her brows in concern. “Oh no, what kind of messages did she send you? Did she freak you out?! That was a bit of a struggle at some point to get her hands away from her stupid phone..!”

“No, no, don’t worry Lily”, he reassured her. “I… I just wanted to check up on her as the night seemed to have been quite… wild?”.

Lily sniggered at his choice of words.  “Oh yeah, that was a good night!”, she beamed, gesturing for him to come in, before adding with a grin, “… although I don’t know what Ellie would say right now… I had kind of forgotten the lovely after-effects that overly sweet and cheap cocktails can have on a human organism… and so did she, I reckon.”

Lily giggled a little at this, shooting an adorable apologetic grin at Adrian as if to prevent him from even thinking about blaming her for Ellie’s massive hangover. If she had reached that stage yet.

“Well, may I go and see the damage for myself?” he asked with a grin.

“Be my guest! But I hope you have learnt how to block your nostrils over the years, coz in there... yuk!”

They both shared a laugh at this, as Adrian dropped his coat and jacket on a chair before heading towards Ellie's room, bracing himself as he knocked softly at the door “Ellie? May I come in?”

His call was met by the sounds of ruffling sheets and by an intelligible grumble that he interpreted as a ‘yes'. Slowly pushing the door open, his eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness of the room to find Ellie’s form, surprisingly not tucked in the sheets, but instead awkwardly sat on the floor by her bed. Her cheek was resting on the edge of the mattress, her arms sprawled around her head lazily as if to prevent herself from slipping off to the floor.

Adrian quietly crossed the room to kneel by her side, laying a comforting hand between her shoulder blades while reaching over her arm to brush away the sticky strands of hair from her face, revealing a pale figure staring ahead into nothingness, her mouth slightly open as she was taking in shallow breaths.

“Oh sweetheart…” he sighted softly, offering her a warming smile as her eyes finally seemed to have focused on him. Caressingly gently the burning skin of her temple, he offered: “Do you want to stay down here, or do you want me to move you to the bed?”

It took Ellie a while to answer, as if gathering her thoughts as well as her strength to voice them was beyond achievable for her. She finally nodded weakly, her lips finally moving to let her feeble voice out: “I tried but… couldn’t get back on the bed after I…”.

Nodding back at her to show her that she did not need to say any more, he pressed a quick peck on her forehead before gently moving around to collect her limp body in his arms and deposit her carefully onto the bed. Helping her out of her clothes was the next step, and Ellie did not complain whatsoever during the whole process, focused on keeping her eyes closed to try to ignore what this shuffling around was doing to her stomach. Once he was done, Adrian sat by her side on the edge of the bed, one hand holding hers onto his lap, the other on the side of her neck so he could brush his thumb over her cheek soothingly.  

“Sounded like you had a great night yesterday” Adrian teased, as Ellie looked at him with foggy eyes, attempting to raise a sceptical brow but failing miserably.

“Yes we had… but” she had to stop for a second, her stomach heaving dangerously, “not so much fun now”.

“Yes I can imagine”, he chuckled lightly, his eyes roaming over her features to check everything else was alright.

Lost in the peaceful silence that was filling in the room as she was gradually relaxing next to him, securely tucked in in the bedsheets, Adrian had nearly forgotten why he had initially rushed to her place. That was until he saw her eyes suddenly snap open and her brow furrow, as she broke the silence to ask: “Wait… what do you mean by ‘sounded like you had a great night’?”

Well, at least that answered his previous concern that she might not remember was she had said in her messages. He could just pretend that nothing out of the ordinary happened, and leave it at that, hoping that those words would grace her lips once more in the near future, under better circumstances. Hopefully. Except he did not want to pretend. Or could not.

“You don’t remember calling me last night?”, he asked softly, unable to hide the gleam of expectation in his eyes.

Her frown and confused gaze answered his question before her lips did. “No I….” she started, before suddenly widening her eyes in silent realisation, as glimpses of last night’s drunk endeavours resurfaced to hit her in the face. Eyes wide, she was starting to remember… bits after bits… and then all of it.

“Oh nooooo…”, she muttered, the blood somehow suddenly finding its way back to her cheeks despite the weakness of her body. If the flush of her skin and the thumping of her heart were not enough to ensure Adrian that she was now remembering everything she had said, the sheepish smile that adorned her face as she dropped her eyes to their joined hands was proof enough.

Squeezing her hand a little more tightly, he braced himself: “Ellie, I…”

But as he was about to speak, Ellie suddenly straightened up in the bed, covering her mouth with her hand and she heaved once more, her body violently reminding her that now was not the time for heart-to-heart conversations. No. Now was the time for her to pay the consequences for over indulging on G&Ts and margaritas a few hours before.

Clutching Adrian’s arm to keep herself up, she pleaded weakly, the corner of her mouth curled in a feeble smile that showed that she was admitting defeat: “Adrian, please… just… please, be my best friend right now, not the guy I just confessed my love to…. I’m gonna need you to carry me to the bathroom…”.

If Adrian was a little disappointed, he did not show it. Probably because he knew that now was clearly not the right time to discuss this. And probably because he could see the reassurance in her eyes that she was not going to take her words back. They would get to this part again eventually, there was no point in rushing things just because the alcohol had loosened her lips.

Smiling at her warmly, he simply nodded, pushing the bedsheets away to cradle her trembling body once more in his arms and carry her to the bathroom. She was right. Now was not the right time. He would tell her. Eventually. Just not right now.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @adriansbiss, @itsjustwinter, @shanzay44, @purvishraick

If anyone wants to be added/removed from the tag list, let me know!

@choicesficwriterscreations​

[wordsfromthesol]

Sleep Deprived

Author: @wordsfromthesol Taglist: @zphilophobiaz Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary:  Tim accidentally falls asleep in the wrong apartment. That apartment happens to be yours, and it happens to be on your first day at your new job. Warnings: Language maybe? Word Count: 1.6k

It was the first day of your new job, your new job at Wayne Enterprises. Unfortunately, this meant you had to actually start waking up early. When the alarm went off at 5:30 in the morning you absolutely dreaded leaving your warm bed, but it was your first day and you were determined to make a good impression. Throwing your legs over the side of the bed, you slowly pushed yourself up and shuffled into the bathroom. Forty-five minutes later you came out and nearly fell to the floor in shock upon noticing a figure in your bed. Stalking closer you noticed they had a mask on…and was that a cape? After staring for a solid minute and a half you finally recognized the emblem, Red Robin, one of the infamous vigilantes of Gotham. You had only been in Gotham a week, was this normal? Shaking the thoughts from your mind you squinted through the dark and made your way to your closet. Selecting an outfit you tip-toed into the living room and got dressed. You had planned to actually make breakfast, but you supposed you had time to stop somewhere. Jotting down a quick note for the hero, you quietly went back into the room and placed it on the nightstand before leaving.

**

Tim's eyes fluttered before shooting open. His mind went into panic mode, quickly surveying the area and finding a note on the nightstand.  

Red Robin,

I think you stumbled into my apartment by accident, but I'm sure keeping Gotham safe takes quite a toll. Since you’re a hero, I'm hoping you won't steal any of my stuff. Feel free to help yourself to any coffee.

Tim made his way to the window. "This isn't even close to my apartment." He mumbled to himself just as his phone rang.

"Dick?"

"Where the hell are you?"

"I…uh…working."

"At an apartment building half a mile from yours?"

"Why do you -- nevermind. I guess I slept here." Tim stopped trying to keep up the façade.

"DO YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND I DON'T KNOW ABOUT?!" Dick's voice went up two octaves as he screamed across the phone line.

"Geez, calm down Dick. No, I don't have a girlfriend. I honestly don't know how I ended up here. I was patrolling late last night --"

Dick cut him off, "When was the last time you slept? Not including this morning." He quickly added the qualifying statement.

"Three days…" Tim mumbled, knowing he was about to get an ear full from his brother.

"You can't keep doing this Tim. You're going to get yourself hurt."

"I know, okay." The statement long and drawn out. "I didn't mean to, I just get hyper fixated…"

"You're taking off tonight. From patrol and case work. And you better figure out how to thank that poor girl."

Tim knew it was pointless arguing with him and relented before hanging up the phone. At least now he could catch up on some WE work these next few days.

**

You quickly learned from your new coworkers that heroes stumbling into random apartments for a nap was not a normal occurrence in Gotham. You were just lucky…according to them. When you got back the mysterious figure had left. Though it would've been more surprising if he was still there.

When your alarm went off the next morning, you proceeded to the bathroom as usual. Only this time when you were done, your head hesitantly peaked around the corner, half expecting the hero to be in your bed once again. He wasn't. Slightly disheartened, you made your way to the WE building and went straight to research and development, hoping to avoid the morning gossip.

"Oh, Y/N! You're here. Can you run this up to Mr. Drake's office?" Your supervisor asked before you could step through the door.

"You…you mean like…the CEO, Mr. Drake?"

She could hear the wavering in your voice and quickly consoled you, "Don't worry. He's never here. More of a night owl I suppose. Just set it on his desk."

"Okay…" You were still hesitant, but couldn't exactly turn her down on your second day of work. Once you got to his office, his secretary didn't bother looking up. They just waved you along. Just as you set the folder on his desk, you heard the door opening. "Shit." You mumbled, praying that it wasn't the CEO.

"You must be Y/N." The voice was clear and crisp behind you. You spun around to see Timothy Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, standing before you.

"Uh…yeah. You know who I am?"

"Heh, well I do run the company."

"But I just started yesterday. I'm nobody."

"Don't be ridiculous. What did you bring?" Tim motioned towards the folder on his desk beside you.

"A proposal from Sarah. I think it's some new circuit board."

"Well don't try to sell me on it." Tim could hear the lack of enthusiasm in your voice, not that you were trying to hide it.

"Sorry…not my thing I guess." You tried to play off the awkwardness…it did not work.

"You work under her, don't you?" Tim furrowed his brows as he stalked over and grabbed the folder, slowly thumbing through the papers.

"Yeah." You wanted to rant more, but you didn't think it was appropriate. It was your second day, and though the work didn't interest you, Wayne Enterprises did. This was how you could get your foot in the door. How you could make a difference in the world.

"Well, then what is your thing?" Tim was determined to get the answers he wanted. After all, he had to have some way to repay you for letting him crash uninvited at your apartment. And not waking him or telling the world that he was there.

"Honestly…" You hesitated to complain about your brand new job, but something about Tim felt familiar and safe. "I want to develop technology that makes a difference, that helps people. The projects I've seen seem completely money driven, which I understand. But in Gotham we have so much to look out for. Think about a chemical to counterattack Poison Ivy's spell or a ballistics vest you can comfortably wear under anything…" You drifted off into your thoughts until you realized you had been ranting for almost fifteen minutes. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound ungrateful for this --" Tim cut you off.

"No. I think we may have placed you in the wrong division. I want you to meet someone."

**

"I figured it out." Tim proudly announced as he sauntered into the Batcave, nodding toward Dick sitting at the computer.

"Figured out how to convince me to let you patrol tonight? Because the answer is no." Dick didn't even bother to look up. Mainly because he didn't want to be persuaded otherwise.

"No. You were right, I needed time. But the girl. Y/N."

"Your new girlfriend…" Dick wagged his eyes as he spun around to face his brother.

Tim rolled his eyes and attempted to ignored his older brother's comment. "She's the new WE employee. I'm moving her from our standard R&D department." Dick arched his eyebrows, still unsure where Tim was going with this. "She's going to be working with Lucius."

"And you think that's a good idea?"

"Yes. I fully checked her out and I think her work will benefit us more than it will WE."

"So you going to officially introduce yourself then?"

"Yes," Tim looked suspiciously at the mischievous glare in Dick's eyes before quickly adding, "But not for that reason!"

"Hmm" Dick spun back around towards the computer.  

"Don't you dare tell Jason about this!" Tim screamed as he bolted up the stairs.

**

The next day you stood in awe once more as your new boss, Lucius Fox, was showing you more of the lab. There was technology here that you didn't even think existed. That's when it all clicked, this was tech used by superheroes. Wayne Enterprises supplied tech to the Justice League, Titans, Outsiders…all the superhero groups you could think of had displayed various pieces you now recognized around the lab. Your jaw finally dropped open as you watched Red Robin himself saunter down the hallway.

"Lucius! I heard you had a new protégé." The vigilante eyed you as he came to a stop next to your new boss.

"Red Robin. I didn't know you were stopping by today." You noticed Lucius smirk as he side-eyed the hero.

"Well I…" The remark caught Tim off guard…he didn't really have a particular reason for coming to the lab today. Well other than you. "I had to meet Y/N. I've heard great things so far."

"Right, well I have your suit repaired." Lucius chimed in to relieve some of the awkward tension before quickly disappearing to retrieve it.

Your eyes squinted as you glanced awkwardly around the room, "I've been employed here for like 3 days now…"

"Your…uh…research at school. And your internship at LexCorp…" Of course he had researched you. There's no way you would've gotten into the position without extensive background checks. You awkwardly fiddled with your fingers, hoping Lucius would soon return. You didn't expect Red Robin to try and continue the conversation. "Also thanks for letting me crash the other night. Guess I didn't realize how tired I was."

"So you don't just pick a random apartment to sleep in every night?"

"Well I try not to…I already got berated enough by my brother for that night."

"Good, as you should've." Red Robin looked slightly hurt by your commentary, so you continued. "It's never healthy to let yourself get to that point. What if you had to fight someone?"

"You sound like him…but fair enough. At least it allowed me to work normal hours for once this week."

The gears were turning in your head as everything fell into place, "Tim?" you blurted out before you realized what you had said.

"Ha! Well that didn’t take long." Lucius chuckled as he walked out, costume in hand. Tim's cheeks were already turning a bright crimson.

[echo-three-one]

Chapter 42

THE ROAD SO FAR

This chapter was a mess. But it's my mess.

FOUR weeks of Silence

Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Veteran's Village

A peaceful Sunday meant that Roach, Alex and Soap were chilling at the house Samantha and Maxine were in. It had been 4 weeks since that Cuban incident and Francine had gone to therapy for her near death traumatic experience. If it wasn't for Soap, she would've been left out there for good.

France thought that it would be healthy to stay in a more domestic setup rather than the base so she took her time off duty to recover in the veteran's village. And ever since that day in Cuba, Soap and France's relationship was more expressive than ever.

"If we're having a barbecue tonight, we better head off to the meat shop." Alex peeked by the door, giving a heads up to the rest of the people sitting on the couch. Soap turned his head to Alex and tossed his keys as Roach stood up and came with Alex.

"Any other requests?" He looked at the group then to Maxine, who shook her head and laughed. 

"Just be back safe." She replied.

"Got it." Gary nodded and waved goodbye at them. Soap wanted to come along but France had been falling asleep on his lap for quite a while. And Maxine and Samantha noted that she hadn't had decent for days.

"Oh, Roach! Grab me a cigar maybe." He whispered, trying not to wake France up.

"Roger that." He nodded and made his way to Soap's jeep, where Alex was already waiting on him. He sat himself on shotgun and let Alex lead the way to their destination.

He turned on the radio as it played a song about driving. Roach was quick to shazam it and found out it was Automobile by KALEO.

"Now this is going to be on my playlist." Alex said as his head nodded to the music, taking him where the winds take him, far away.

"Agreed. Oh, Soap actually asked for cigarettes so we might have to stop by a convenience store on the way back." Roach informed as the song ended. 

"Okay. That's cool. Maybe add a few sodas for the girls. They probably haven't had those i  ages." He said as he turned the radio off and switched it to AUX.

"Here. Grab my phone and play that song again." Alex instructed as he drove through the streets, and Roach followed him. Playing the song again.

"Ah yes. This song is good." Alex sighed.

"Yeah. It's fire." Roach commented, making Alex raise an eyebrow.

"You know, fire… lit… slaps… Modern terminologies." Roach explained shyly as Alex chuckled.

"I'll never understand the young ones of today." Alex chuckled as he stopped by the parking lot, pulling his phone and leaving the car.

Dinner was the best part of the Sunday evening as the three couples enjoyed a hearty meal together, sharing experiences and funny stories like an extended family. Roach talked about his raccoon story once again as one topic led to another until such time that the inevitable topic was discussed.

"Speaking of fires, do you have any leads on Nero?" Samantha asked innocently as the men fell quiet, looking at each other. Wondering who would open up the topic.

"Well, uh… After his assault in New York…" Soap trailed off, his eyes went to Alex, signaling him to continue.

"Alex, it's your girl's question! Go answer it!" Soap complained as France laughed, wrapping her arms around Soap.

"He's gone silent." Alex muttered. Samantha was kinda sad she asked about it so she tried to make up by brightening up the mood.

The night continued on as the group played charades, girls vs boys. For an hour or so the soldiers forgot about their worries and acted like they're normal people living their normal lives outside work. It wouldn't hurt to pretend like that, especially when the baggage of guilt was hard to handle.

"So, Gary. I've been meaning to ask you something…" Maxine said as she assisted him in the kitchen.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"How are you… like mentally. You seem… off." She asked, Gary sighed and eased his shoulders.

"It's just… we almost lost a life back there… for nothing. Lannister hasn't said any useful information and as the days go by another assault might occur." he breathed out his worries, earning a back rub from Maxine.

"People have their limits. Lannister could break anytime. Let's just hope we're not too late." She assured him. It was a very negative statement but somehow it's actually helpful. Gary smiled and gave her a hug.

"Thanks Maxine." he said.

"Yeah. Don't ever think you're alone. I'm here for you. Actually, just last night. I had another memory restored. And it felt so important that you have to know it first. Before…" she said, her voice lowering down after every word.

"Before what?" Gary whispered jokingly. Maxine laughed and hit his chest gently.

"Nevermind that word. Back to my memory…

I…" she trailed off, looking like she was too shy and scared to finish the statement.

"You…?" Gary raised an eyebrow. Maxine took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"I had an ex-girlfriend." She blurted and paused right after saying it, bracing at what Gary's reaction.

"I- uh.. That's okay… There's nothing wrong with that, Maxine." He said like he meant it. Maxine was too shocked about his reaction. Maybe she thought about it too much.

"Like… does that change anything?" She asked.

"Nothing at all. Oh wait! Yes! It does." Gary announced and Maxine's smile almost dropped.

"It means that if I want to have you, I'll have to step up my game. I have more competition now." He realized and Maxime sighed in relief. This man was about to get some scolding.

"You worried me, you know!" He continued gently hitting on Gary's chest, giggling away all her fears. He still accepted her. This was great.

"My point's valid!" He laughed, defending himself from her hits,.like children playing house. This may seem like a simple event, but this was the beginning of something new for the two of them.

Task Force 141 Base - Interrogation Room

Price sat in front of Gabriel, they've been silent for about an hour now as Gary and Soap stayed on the viewing area to observe the interrogation. Alex was here thirty minutes ago but he left after he got a phone call.

"What kind of twisted play is this?" Soap asked, crossing his arms and looking at Gabriel.

"The bastard won't talk. Just cut off a finger or something." He scoffed. To Gary, it would make sense, but with all the cameras and the formalities, It wasn't allowed. Especially that Gabriel's alibi was that he got their first to investigate. Which was total bullshit.

"He still has his ace on his sleeve. As long as we don't find proof of involvement, he's going to be free soon." Gary commented, making Soap grumble some Scottish curses.

"It's pretty obvious!" Soap yelled as Alex entered the interrogation room, saying something to Price as they immediately left him alone. Whatever that message was, looked way more important than Gabriel.

"We've got a lead on Nero!" Alex said as he peeked on the door, making the two stand up immediately and head to the briefing room.

"Operation Eye of the Storm." Price announced.

"In 24 hours, Nero and his newfound friends will meet on a hotel in Prague. This intel was from one of the Resistance Leaders Alex once teamed up with. They reached out for help since Nero started to secure the whole city." Price paced back and forth on the big screen.

"The plan is to eliminate Nero and his allies. As simple as that. We have the element of surprise in our hands. Soap, I want you to position yourself on the clock tower, just by the hotel. A bullet to the head should work. Alex will be watching your six. Jack will be our eyes and ears inside the convention. He'll be signaling when they'll be out on the open. Roach and I will enter the building for cleanup. We only had one shot at this so let's make it count." Price briefed and everyone else murmured their thoughts, some were already thanking for a solid lead. This was it. The final showdown. The end of the war.

PRAGUE, CZECH REPUBLIC

Alex and Soap already left the resistance safehouse, they had to be at the clock tower tonight, using the concealment of the night and the noise of the rain for cover. The perfect opportunity to say under the radar. Meanwhile, Roach and Price stayed to defend the place as Nero's men once again ransacked the streets just to ensure his safety. The world may have announced that the war in US was over, but Nero still had some cities under his control. This minor setback was the reason he's planning for something new. And they're here to stop it.

"Alright, Roach. Your replacements here." Price said as he stood up from his spot. 

"Get ready for the big day tomorrow." He added as he nodded and left his gun for the next person to use. Tomorrow's battle is going to be tough, and even though he didn't want to admit it, Roach needed some rest.

Despite the occasional gunfire and screaming, Roach was able to sleep. He didn't mind the battle outside the building as his battle was with Nero. Once Soap shot him dead, he would also want to shoot him again, just to feel satisfied.

0639H 

Hotel Lustig

Prague, Czech Republic

Roach hid on the west wing of the hotel, while Price was on the other side. They were both clinging on to the walls as their entrance was at the small opening where Soap would shoot Nero. Roach eyed the convoy just below him.

"Convoy's up ahead. Nero should be in one of those cars." Soap muttered.

"Can't see shit through the lens. He could be anywhere." Alex added.

"Easy lads. We'll have a clear shot once they're in the balcony. Right Jack?" Price asked. Jack didn't respond, but maybe the signal inside was too weak.

"Jack? Do you copy?" Price asked.

"Da. I do copy, Captain Price. I'm just here to get my old prisoner back. I've had him in the gulag for quite a while but it seems this is our first time meeting face to face." A russian voice which everyone assumed to be Nero said in the most villainous tone possible.

"You're too predictable, Captain." he said as he clicked something, prompting an explosion on the clock tower.

"Get down! C4!" Price yelled as the two soldiers jump out, falling on to railings. Alex landed on a fruit cart by the tower while Soap landed on the car, crashing it as it alarmed.

"Roach! Go help them out!" Price ordered as Nero's men started to circle around the two while the resistance team helped them defend. 

Roach quickly pulled Soap up who was groaning in pain. Alex looked pained too but the look in their eyes says that they're still willing to end this today.

"Let's catch up with them." Alex said as a resistance member tossed them a rifle and quickly hid for cover, pushing their way into the hotel. At the corner of Roach's eye, he saw Price enter the building, loading his gun and ready to end this as well.

Next Chapter : THREE Bullets

Notification Squad my Beloved

@smokeywhalee @enderio @samatedeansbroccoli @whimsywispsblog @ricinbach @bumblingbee1

[rjhpandapaws]

When the Music Plays

Chapter 1: Jimmy's

Tw: Hank alcoholism and suicidal ideation.

A/N: just a reminder that I am playing fast and loose with Canon

Hank wasn’t the best with technology, for that and other reasons he kept clear of androids; but even he knew things were changing. Androids were going missing with more and more frequency. An alarming number of people were reporting being attacked by their androids before they disappeared. It was something bigger than programing issues he suspected, and he also knew he didn’t want to be anywhere near it when things finally fell apart. As usual though it seemed fate wasn’t all that inclined to listen to him. He was doing what he normally did on days like this; avoiding his responsibilities and making a valiant attempt to drown whatever braincells were stubborn enough to stick around. Old Fashioned had gotten too complicated a few hours back so he had moved on to straight whiskey hoping that his consciousness would get the hint and move on as well. He’d pass out at the bar in his usual fashion and Jimmy would wake him up at last call; he’d drive home and pray to get in a wreck, feed Sumo if he survived, sleep, then repeat everything again if he woke up again. Except that tonight his consciousness was too stubborn to leave. He was hunched over the bar, all but face first in his whiskey when Jimmy’s hand came into his line of sight. Once he had Hank’s attention he pointed over his shoulder. Hank turned to look, and standing right there in his sanctuary was a fucking android. Fucking fantastic.

The things Hank has liked about Jimmy’s had been that there were no androids allowed on the premises and everyone would mind their own damn business, too busy drinking to worry about what was happening around them. Except now there was an android in the middle of the bar and everyone was staring at him. What had been a sanctuary was no longer safe. The android was talking and the nice thing about being Deaf was that he could easily ignore him simply by not looking at him. So he turned back to the bar to continue nursing his whiskey. The thing had the nerve to sit beside him. It gave Hank time to finish his whiskey before it tapped on his shoulder to get his attention. Hank thought about trying to ignore him again, but he had the sneaking suspicion that wasn’t going to work. It had after all made itself at home in a clearly anti android bar. It was either here for him, had no sense of self preservation; or if Hank was particularly unlucky, both. He sighed and turned to face the android. Immediately it started talking again. Hank withheld the urge to bash his head against the bar as he picked up his hands to sign, ‘I Deaf.’ The android took a moment of pause. The Led om his temple blinked for a few cycles. It returned to blue and began to sign, ‘You Lieutenant A-N-D-E-R-S-ON?’

Hank wanted to groan, ‘Yes.’ He signed the letter ‘A’ and tapped it over his heart for his rank and name sign in one making things easier, ‘You Want What?’ ‘I Look For You.’ The android signed sharply, ‘I Find You After Five Bars.’ ‘You Want What?’ Hank repeated going as far as to tap the android’s chest. ‘I Sent For You. Active Case.’ It signed, ‘My Name C-O-N-N-O-R.’ He took a moment to to sign ‘machine’ but with the letter ‘C’. ‘I From CyberLife.’ Of course it was. Androids had taken every other job, and at long last it seemed they were coming after his. He sighed and rubbed at his face. ‘Tough Shit. I Not Join You.’ He didn’t even get back to facing the bar again before Connor tapped his shoulder again. Hank groaned and turned back to it. ‘If I Buy Drink You Will Come With Me?’ Connor asked and tipped his head to emphasize the question. Hank figured he had nothing left to lose. Connor had already made it clear he had no plans to leave him alone. So much so that he had made himself comfortable in a place that he clearly wasn’t welcome. ‘Sure. Why Not.’ There was no getting out of this as it was, so he might as well get a free drink out of it.

Hank didn’t see the bill Connor had slid across the counter, but after a long moment Jimmy slid him another whiskey. He took his time with it. He had to work this evening, which most likely meant dealing with Gavin and that wasn’t something he wanted to do sober. Connor just lingered. He sat stiffly in the corner of Hank’s vision, a constant reminder that he was one mistake away from being replaced. He didn’t know what Jeff was thinking with this, but Hank was certain he wasn’t going to like it. Unfortunately, a single glass of whiskey could only be made to last so long. Not to mention that Connor was just outside his line of sight as a solid reminder that there as no getting out of this. He sighed and set the empty glass down on the bar then stood. Connor followed him to the end of the bar and watched him settle the tab. It was creepy as all fuck. He got in his car and Connor got in on the passenger’s side without prompting which unsettled him. Hank reached across the car and opened the glove box. He felt around until he found his hearing aid case. He took them out and put them in, he turned them on, then put the radio on a volume where talking would be unpleasant if not difficult. With everything settled he made his way to the location that Connor had sent to his phone. Hank found androids as a whole to be off putting, not the least of this was because of how real they looked. This of course extended to Connor as well, but there was more to it than that when it came to him. He looked young, innocent almost and it was uncomfortable. Hank didn’t trust it. Androids had no reason to look like that. Something was up, and Hank had a feeling he was going to find out whether he wanted to or not. This android had sought him out and there was a reason for that. It was a mystery he would rather not solve, but he knew that wasn’t up to him either. So in his usual fashion, he planned to ignore it until it became unavoidable. They pulled into the scene and Hank turned off the radio and then turned to face Connor, “Stay in the car.” He said firmly and went so far to sign ‘stay’ as he spoke. “Got it.” Came the android’s response. His voice was somehow both earnest and emotionless. It was added to the list of things Hank found unsettling about Connor. Hank didn’t trust that he would actually stay in the car but he still got out. As much as he disliked it, he still had a job to do. If he got it done quickly enough he might even be able to go back to Jimmy’s and finished his night the right way. Drunk enough that none of this would stick around, or be a distant memory at the very least. He didn’t even make to the police line before he heard the other car door close. As he had suspected, his orders were not the ones Connor was designed to follow.

He waved at Ben who responded in kind then looked over Hank’s shoulder with a perplexed expression. Hank could hazard a guess at who or rather what he was looking at. Connor who was dutifully following him like some overly eager rookie. “I didn’t think you one to get an android.” Ben remarked with notable confusion to his voice. Hank gave another sigh, his annoyance mounting further, “He’s not mine. CyberLife sent it to try and figure out what is going on, I’m just along for the ride I suppose.” Ben eyed Connor and he and Hank both crossed the police line. Hank changed his focus to the scene, though it took longer than he would have liked given the whiskey coursing through his system. He kept one eye on Connor as he looked over the scene. He wanted to know what had happened here as well as what Connor was capable of. From what he had gathered from the landlord Carlos Ortiz hadn’t been the best tenant, or even a good one at that. A Red Ice addiction and an android, those two things never mixed well as it was. Now the guy was dead, and like many androids as of late, his has vanished. Hank figured Connor was here for the android and he would be left with the homicide. It made the most sense. So with that plan in mind he made his way into the house.

The house was a mess, which Hank had for the most part expected. His years spent as a detective were the only things that kept him from losing his stomach at the smell. He talked to some of the other officers that were present before he went over the scene itself. Once he had an idea of what had happened he stepped out of the way to let Connor do his thing. Whatever that happened to be. He watched Connor go over the scene. It was unusual. The android would stand in one corner of the room or a doorway and observe the room as though he was watching something that Hank was unable to see. After that it would go through the room and observe the evidence. The LED would cycle between yellow and blue. What Hank was by no means ready for was when Connor swiped two of his fingers through god only knew what and then licked it. “Jesus Christ. Connor what the fuck?” Hank groaned as he looked away. “My apologies Lieutenant.” He didn’t sound the least bit sorry, “I have a fully functional forensic analysis unit and I wanted results on the thirium before it evaporated.” “Just don’t do it again.” Hank replied as he turned back toward Connor. “Got it.” Connor responded in the same empty earnest tone from the car that Hank didn’t trust for a moment.

They moved through the house and the process repeated itself, save for the licking of mystery substances thankfully. The bathroom was a sight to behold. They both agreed that it was the android’s doing, but it was strange. As Hank understood it, android’s didn’t think. There was no way for them to develop beliefs, faith, or create something this ritual. Yet there it was. It was concerning in how unusual it was, and Hank was once again uncomfortable. This android, wherever it was, was defective and dangerous; but it also seemed like something more was going on. Hank couldn’t place what and he was getting more suspicious. Connor was looking up at the ceiling like he could see something that wasn’t there. Hank looked up to be sure, and other than the latch to the crawl space there was nothing up there. Connor’s LED rolled yellow and stayed there for a long moment. He passed Hank on his way out of the bathroom and Hank hesitated before he followed. Connor met him in the hallway with a chair from the dining room and Hank’s confusion only grew. “Connor, what are you doing?” He asked as he turned toward the bathroom. “The android is still here.” Came the distant reply. His voice was still emotionless and flat, but somehow colder at the same time. It teetered on dangerous and Hank didn’t like it.

Hank waited in the hallway because he had the feeling he wouldn’t want to be in the way when Connor came down with that android. He couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling from having heard Connor’s voice so dangerous but flat at the same time. It didn’t suit how he had been built to look, though Hank supposed that was the point. As it stood, the fact that CyberLife felt the need to get personally involved in this; as personal as sending an android to do your bidding could be; made him uncomfortable. Why send an android liaison? What were they trying to do? All of it was suspicious. There was more going on than they were being told, he just needed to figure out what. A commotion from the attic brought him out of his thoughts. Connor had found the android and apparently it didn’t plan to come quietly. Hank moved back toward the main part of the house; he didn’t want to be caught between two androids with something to settle. Connor and the other android got into another smaller scuffle in the front yard before they made their way back to the station to try and question the thing. There had the be a reason for it to have snapped like that. The alternative was that it was only a matter of time before every android out in the world did something like this; and that was not a line of thought that Hank was too keen on entertaining.

Gavin was waiting for them outside of the interrogation room when they got back and Hank had decided that he was way too sober for this. Hank pushed to have Connor question the android, it was the only way he could think of to get answers from it. Though as he watched Connor effortlessly manipulate it he came to regret that. Everything about Connor made him nervous, and that was before the other android had decided to self destruct in its holding cell. As Hand drove home in what was now the early hours of the morning he had the feeling that this was going to get so much worse before it got better. That, and he had better get used to this ever-present discomfort because he likely hadn’t seen every side of Connor yet.

[yeojaa]

in the night, ii.

read part one!  dedicated to my beloved wofe @periminkle​ because she loves assassin!kook and so do i.  i honestly dunno how many parts to this non-couple couple i’ll do but ... i cannot resist them.  oops.

pairing.  jjk x reader.  rating.  ... general?  tags.  soft romance in the form of:  pining, cuddling, playing chess like losers, using a hotel room for the lamest reasons.  maybe a very lil bit of angst if you squint at the right times.  it’s just them being...  them?  ig.  wc.  1.8k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif​ 💛

“You know, when you asked me to meet  you here, this isn’t what I had in mind.”

He can’t help but laugh, the sound teetering off his tongue into the tepid lake of espresso sitting in his cup.  You’re glaring down at the board, hand poised at your side.  You’re so focused - more so than when you’re stitching him up.  

He wonders, idly, whether that should worry him.  It won’t.

“You’re not having fun?”  He hums, the slyest smile passing over the rim of ceramic, a certain twinkle in his stare.  It’s possible he’s overtired - he hasn’t slept in what feels like ages - but there’s something awfully amusing about the sight of you, brow knit and mouth pursed into a grimace he seldom sees.  “Got something else in mind, Doc?”

You don’t humour him with a response, advancing your king to C7.  

“You sure about that one?”

“Yes.”  It snaps past your lips like cinnamon bubble gum.

Seeing you so riled up - not quite irritated but overly competitive - makes Jungkook snort, setting his cup down with a soft, drawn out sigh.

“Come here.”  It isn’t readily clear where he means but he leaves it up to you, watching you keenly. 

You’re having none of it. “Make your move.”

“Come here,”  he repeats, just that bit harder.  The edge doesn’t reach anywhere but his words;  his eyes are still a little tired, half-lidded and dreamy.  They pair nicely with the full of his cheek, how it ticks rounder and reveals a singular dimple.  Your weakness - or so he’d like to think. 

It’s with a surprising amount of dramatics that you remove yourself from the opposite seat, folding yourself into his lap with only a handful of movements.  He welcomes your weight, curling an exhausted arm around the shape of your waist. 

With your back to the arm rest, you settle with your head against his shoulder, nose cold against the column of his throat.  He can even feel the steel of your glasses, gold-rimmed and delicate. 

“Bored?”  The tone of his voice is lilting, teasing, dressed up with laughter.  It disappears into your crown of velvet, loosely braided and knotted behind your ear in your signature no-fuss fashion. 

“No.”  But it isn’t very believable because you certainly sound unenthused. 

He tries again, with fingers that flex into the soft, bare flesh of your thigh;  his other hand guides your chin, drawing your attention fully from the abandoned chess set.  “Want to order room service?”

It’s the least he can do, he figures.  Something to ease whatever mocking resentment seeps out of your skin - much like his had only hours earlier. 

Note to himself:  pick up some new clothes.  

“I want every dessert on the menu,”  you finally relent, with a terribly serious set of your jaw and intensity in your eyes.  

He snorts, again, squeezing the yielding softness of your hip in his broad palms. “I’ll call down and order.  You go take a shower or something.”  It’s not as dismissive as he means;  the blouse you’d worn over is stained red, the colour bleeding garishly over cream silk.  It even marks your skin now, caught beneath your nails and over your wrists. 

“What - it’s not a good look on me?”  

Your feigned affront is addictive, coaxing in a way he’s utterly defenceless against.  Still, Jungkook rolls his eyes - an exaggerated reveal of bright white sclera - and levels you with a look that might serve him better than the gun that rests on the coffee table.  “Don’t ask stupid questions, Doc.”

“But you do stupid things all the time.”  You’re not wrong and if there’s anyone worthy of calling him out in this same way, it’s you.  Doesn’t mean he takes it any more kindly, glowering at you so heavily he thinks you might be enjoying it. 

“Name one time,”  he retorts, fully on the defensive.  Even though he knows you’re right.  Even though he could list off just five things since last night. 

Getting ambushed in his own home

Cracking some not-so-poor guy’s skull on the corner of his Nakashima dining table 

Asking for you to make a home (or rather, hotel) call 

Asking for you at all

Asking you to stay 

He hopes you won’t catch onto the last three. 

“That time I told you to not overextend yourself after you cracked three ribs and you came back the next day complaining because you’d piledrived a guy through some scaffolding but, and I quote, ‘it wasn’t a big deal’?”  Okay, you have him there.  “Or the time I told you to take the pills in the left drawer and you took the ones from the right and ended up passed out on my floor for twelve hours?”  Another solid and mildly embarrassing example.  “Or—”

“Okay, okay.”  A single hand held aloft in the universal sign of stop;  the other remains comfortable around your waist, digits tracing figure eights over the porcelain skin beneath your top.  “I get it.”

You’re undeterred, pushing forward with abandon.  “Or inviting me to a hotel to not only stitch you back together but also play silly children’s games?”

“Hey - chess is fun!”  And so were Gin Rummy and Speed, the other two activities he’d foisted upon you post-sewing session. 

“You’re an idiot,”  you state, with a surprising amount of affection.  He doesn’t mind when it comes like this, dipped in honey and rolled in fairy floss. It satisfies his sugar craving, filling the spaces between his molars with cavities. 

“You still came,”  he challenges.  

“Just adding it to the dozens of favours you already owe me.”

He grins, roguish and far too handsome for his own good.  Even tired, with lurking shadows beneath his eyes, he’s unbelievably bright - like it’s radiating out of him.  It’s quite funny when he’s speckled in gore, blood tainting tanned skin and reminding you that he’s not all sunshine and rainbows. 

“How will I ever pay you back?”

You’re close - far too close, even sat in his lap.  Jungkook can see every freckle on your face, every lash that frames the prettiest stare he’s ever seen.  He has to remind himself he’s waiting for an answer;  it’s hard when all he wants to do is kiss you. 

He thinks you must want it too, by how the silence stretches on, catching the pair of you like a Chinese finger trap. 

“Doc?”  Barely a word, made in a whisper. 

Can you feel how his heart beats, trips and fails to right itself when you’re so close he can smell the coffee on your breath?  Is it your medical training that gives him away?  Or maybe just the fact that you’re attuned to everything about him because he’s, well, him?

Your big stupid idiot, for all intents and purposes. 

He wants to ask.  He wants to kiss you. He wants a hundred mundane things (like playing cards and eating sweet treats) only with you. 

You tear it all away with a pat to his head and a wicked smile.  “With all the dessert in the world.”

He scowls then, the expression wolfish and touched with agitation.  It presents in the narrowing of his stare, his sharply set jaw.  “Sounds like pretty lame payback to me.”  Can you hear the edge of petulance, how it colours syllables the faintest shade of goblin green?

“Got something else in mind, Jeon?”

Having his words thrown back at him only makes him laugh.  It reverberates out of his bare chest, filling the quiet of the luxury suite;  it bounces around just as you do, leaping to your feet with a grace he can’t mimic.  He’s mesmerised, as he always is, gaze trained on you - your loosened bun, the curves of your back, how you look in the jeans that look nearly painted on they fit you so well. 

“Grab a bath, Doc,”  he returns - less of a suggestion and more of a demand. 

“Better have those desserts once I’m out.”  A threat rather than a joke, though you’re far too unassuming with your old lady glasses and wide, expressive stare.  For your sake, Jungkook crosses a heart across his chest and nods solemnly, earning him a devastating grin that works far better than your intimidation. 

“Have I ever let you down?”

You’re already gone, a trail of your clothes left like breadcrumbs.  He still hears you.  “I mean - you did bring a knife fight to my door.”  

“We don’t talk about that!”  He calls back before the sound of running water takes over, distorting your laughter.  Neroli and cedar wood comes - your signature scent.  He can’t help the way he inhales deeply, satisfied, as he plucks the room phone from its holder.  It’s an addiction, a second nature action that he can’t help, whether you’re curled in his arms or tending to his broken, bleeding body. 

It’s dangerous, he knows.  

His old mentor would tell him don’t get involved, Jeon.  That living a life like this came with sacrifices.  Things he’d never really cared for - at first.  But now?  

He daydreamt about them more often than he should, in all the quiet moments in between.  They painted the prettiest pictures in his mind, wishful thinking in the form of everyday occurrences:  coffee in the morning, you in his (unstained) clothes, drives in the countryside, a bed shared at night. 

All because of you and your healing hands.  He’d never thought you’d be so good at your job, stitching him up inside and out.

It’d be better if he left, packed his ruined clothing and stopped appearing on your doorstep.  It’d keep you safe - and him, too.  Relationships meant weakness and in his line of work, weakness was something to be exploited, like an open wound with a thumb pressed into it.

Instead, he waits until the cart of desserts appears - lemon tarts and basque cheesecake and a dozen other things that scream diabetes! - and wheels it right into the bathroom, closer to you, because he always wants to be closer to you.  

“These don’t look like apples, Doc,”  he hums, settling himself on the back edge of the tub, careful not to dislodge the towel that’s folded beneath your neck.  The wet of your hair seeps into the material of his pants, sticking cloth to sinew and brawn. 

“An apple a day keeps the doctor away but a tray of desserts will keep me here forever.”

“You planning on living here?”  Quipped with an offering - a cocoa masterpiece of four layers, held gingerly between his thumb and forefinger.  

“Might as well milk it,”  you tease, accepting the bite with love in your eyes and a tongue that sweeps, just barely, over his suddenly electrified skin.  He knows what you’re doing just as well as you do;  it’s next to impossible not to lean into the desire, slide the digit home and press down into muscle until you’re drooling around it.

“Might as well,”  he echoes, those same fluttering pink hearts reflected in his stare.

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​ 

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I Could Be Your Sometimes Part Eight

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only Notes: Set before the series. Texts with times in front of them and no name or initials in front of them indicate reader’s texts Thank you to everyone that’s liked and read this!! Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader Warnings: Infidelity and sexual content. If you dislike this, please don’t read. Thank you.

Chapter-specific warnings: Cursing; kissing; oral sex; handjobs Summary: I didn’t need this. I didn’t need this now, I didn’t need it later, but I really didn’t need it after working for five hours. I wasn’t even done, I was just stepping out for lunch. 

I should’ve woken up alone. However, when my alarm went off, an arm flung itself over my middle and a voice groaned, “Shut it off.” Fear not-- this arm and that voice were not disembodied. Worse! They belonged to Neal Loguidice. I reached out, grabbing my phone and shutting the alarm off. Neal snuggled closer, pressing his face into the back of my neck (I hadn’t figured the guy for a cuddler, and he’d kept his distance when I was falling asleep the night before, which was why I’d figured he’d ditch. I hadn’t stayed up to make sure, I mean, fuck, he’d come through the front door, he knew where it was). “What time is it?” He mumbled. “6:30,” I answered. “Why the hell is your alarm set for 6:30 on a Saturday?” Neal grumbled. “I’m going into work, remember?” I reminded him. I reached down, removing his arm from where it had wrapped around me and sitting up, raking a hand through my hair as I yawned. I got out of bed, grabbing my bathrobe from where it was flung over the back of the chair at my vanity and pulling it on before heading into the bathroom. I looked like hell. I felt like it, too. I showered, brushed my teeth quickly, then hurried into my bedroom to get dressed. “You weren’t kidding about going in, huh?” Why was he still in my bed! “Nope,” I said, opening my drawers and rifling through them for something to wear. I heard him sigh, followed by the rustling of sheets. I was an inch away from making a solid sweater selection when I felt Neal kissing my shoulder. “You sure I can’t get you to change your mind?” He murmured. I rolled my eyes, knowing he couldn’t see my face. The sex hadn’t been bad, it just hadn’t managed to be as hot as the four minutes of... contact that Andy and I had had in his office. And Andy and I had been fully clothed the entire time. “As tempting as that sounds,” I said, coating my tone with as much honey as I could muster, “I really do have to go in.” -- “Can we talk?” I didn’t need this. I didn’t need this now, I didn’t need it later, but I really didn’t need it after working for five hours. I wasn’t even done, I was just stepping out for lunch. It was like a punch, seeing Andy leaning against my car. I hadn’t bothered to stealth-park it like I had for the last few weeks; I had other things on my mind. “...Laurie told you that I was working today, didn’t she,” I said, folding my arms over my chest. Andy nodded and I scoffed, shaking my head, muttering, “Unbelievable.” “If anything’s unbelievable here, sweetheart, it’s you working on a Saturday.” “Don’t,” I said sharply. Andy closed his mouth, nodding and muttering, “Alright,” Before meeting my eye. “We should talk,” He insisted. “Somehow I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Come on, please, I just... I wanna clear the air.” Andy stared me down, imploring, and it only took seconds for my resolve to crack. I huffed, turning and waving my ID at the keypad before I opened the door, waving him inside. His brow furrowed. “You wanna do it here?” He asked, coming closer. “Would you rather we do this at your house?” I sniped, batting my eyelashes. Andy didn’t answer, just pursed his lips and stepped inside ahead of me. -- There was no one else in our office, and I knew none of the cleaning staff would be sweeping through for a while, but I still led Andy into a conference room on the off-chance someone else decided to come in and get some work done. I flicked the lights on and closed the window’ blinds before I shrugged my coat off. “Fucking 800 degrees in here,” I mumbled, tossing it over the back of a chair. Andy hummed in agreement, pulling his own coat off. I leaned against a window, watching him. It was almost odd to see him in something that wasn’t a suit. He looked cozy, in a navy blue sweater and a pair of jeans. My eyes darted to the chain on his neck, my mind flashing back to the feeling of it under my palm. I rubbed my hands together, trying to push the thought away again before I regarded Andy. “So?” I asked. “So,” He nodded, resting his hands on the back of a chair and leaning against it, “Last night, uh... Last night was unexpected. Especially considering the fact that you’ve been actively trying to avoid me.” “Is that really all you came up here for?” I asked, unable to keep irritation from seeping into my tone, “What, are you going to say it was all a big mistake and that we were drunk?” “No, I’m not gonna make an excuse like that--” “Then what?” I snapped. Andy’s head dropped forward, and I felt my stomach curdle. I hated this. I should’ve left my Barber contact to Laurie, god knows this never would’ve happened with Laurie. “There is...Something about you,” Andy said quietly, lifting his head to look at me, “I lose my head when I’m around you. I don’t know what it is.” “Well figure it out.” Andy’s jaw tightened with irritation, white-knuckling the back of the chair as he straightened to stare me down. “I’m not blameless here, you know,” He pointed out. I huffed a humorless laugh, nodding. “Trust me, I know that.” “So what is it for you? Do you already have it figured out?” “What it is for me shouldn’t matter to you.” “Does.” “Shouldn’t.” “Does.” “Stop that.” Andy’s lips quirked with an amused smile - one that made his face look incredibly hot and stupidly punchable. He drew himself to his full height, rounding the table slowly, a calm, stalking stroll. His fingertips trailed over the tabletop, and I tried not to think about them bunching up the skirt of my dress just hours before. “You wanted me,” He reminded me as he grew closer, “You wanted to touch me, and you wanted me to touch you.” “Watch it, Barber,” I warned. That stopped him in his tracks, just a couple of feet from me. “We’re back to that?” he asked, unimpressed, “I think I liked it better when I had you squirming and moaning my name.” I bit the inside of my cheek, flushing hot at the reminder. “’Moaning’ is an exaggeration,” I said indignantly. “But squirming is accurate?” Andy teased. He took a few steps closer, eyes drifting over my face, lingering on my lips before he met my eye again. “Did you think about me?” He asked. I frowned, confused. “...What?” I asked. “Neal let me know on his way out that he was heading to yours for a drink.” I turned my head away from Andy, looking somewhere, anywhere else. Of course that had been some stupid power play on Loguidice’s part. Andy had humiliated him in front of me and Neal had made it a point to let Andy know that he’d gotten to me anyway. “I put two and two together,” Andy added. “Well, you’re not an Assistant DA for nothing,” I grumbled through clenched teeth. “You gonna deny it?” Andy pressed. “Why would I?” I asked, lifting my eyes to his again, “Who I fuck is my business.” Andy’s jaw clenched at that, and I watched him take in a deep breath before he crowded closer, bringing his hands up to bracket either side of my head. “Did you think about me?” He murmured. This was not good-- maybe there was something to Andy saying he lost his head around me. I seemed to lose any and all semblance of rational thought when Andy was this close. I could smell the sharp, earthy sent of his cologne, see his chest rise and fall under his sweater. I swallowed thickly, lowering my eyes to wear the light was glinting off of his chain. “You should go,” I whispered. “Do you want me to?” Andy asked, “Be honest. You tell me to leave, I will. Just say the word, sweetheart. Do you want me to go?” I hesitated before I shook my head. Andy’s hand gripped my chin, tipping it up to meet his eyes. “You used to squirm back when you babysat for us, too. You think I didn’t notice? You think I didn’t see you watching me?” He murmured. His words sent shock shooting through me; I couldn’t bring myself to look away from him, but his gaze was so heavy it felt like it might break me down. I managed to shake my head a little again, sucking my lip in between my teeth and he cooed. “Of course I noticed you, sweetheart. Blushing and biting your lip all the goddamn time.” He reached up, running the tip of his thumb along the seam before he tenderly pulled my lower lip from between my teeth. “Last night--” I tried weakly. “I wanted to ruin you,” Andy groaned, resting his forehead against mine, “Right there, on my desk--” “I would’ve let you,” I admitted, tipping my head back to rest against the window; my head felt like it was buzzing, like I couldn’t keep it up any longer. My nose nudged against his as I moved, and Andy pushed out a short, sharp breath. “Yeah?” He asked. I nodded. “Did you think about me when you were with him?” Andy smoothed his thumb over my cheekbone, and I melted. “Yes.” When I was younger, I had imagined this a thousand times. I had an idea of these chaste kisses that Andy would give, cradling my cheeks, like I was something small and fragile. My fantasies were innocent; Andy and I would regard one another softly, come together sweetly, and part ways with gentle, but sensible smiles, knowing it was the right thing to do.  There was nothing soft or sensible about us now. Andy’s lips crushed against mine as he finally closed the space between us. I allowed my hesitance and nerves to give way to hunger and I reached up, hooking an arm around his neck and keeping him close. Some part of me was worried we’d both come to our senses at any second, and I wanted to hold onto this brief insanity for as long as possible. But it didn’t end. Andy didn’t reel away like I expected, and I didn’t reach up with the intention of pushing him away as I had the night before. There was no lingering specter of his family nearby, of what we were betraying. I didn’t even flinch as I felt the cool of his wedding ring slip over my heated skin, his hand sliding under my shirt to skim over my side. I slid my hands down to Andy’s waist, steering him back toward the conference table. I never let my lips separate from his, not wanting him to get the wrong impression. He went easily, taking steady steps back until his thighs hit the table. He settled against it then, spreading his legs and wrapping his arms around me to draw me closer. I leaned away from Andy for a moment, taking in the pink tinge that had bloomed on the apples of his cheeks, the pupils blown wide with want, his bruised lips and mussed hair. Pride rolled through me. I had done that.  I dipped my head, sucking Andy’s plump lower lip between my lips. I traced my tongue over it before tugging at it with my teeth. Andy moaned, and I grinned as I let go of his lip, dipping my tongue into his mouth. I reached down, working my fingers under the hem of his shirt. I broke our kiss again only to tug it up and off, dropping it onto the conference table beside us. Before I could lean in for another kiss, Andy worked at tugging my shirt off as well, mumbling, “Wanna see you, too, sweetheart.” I obliged him, letting my shirt follow suit and leaning into his chest before he could really take me in. The displeased hum he began to make gave way to a stuttered groan as I kissed and sucked warm, wet kisses down his chest. His fingers wound into my hair, taking hold and giving gentle, encouraging tugs. I was careful not to let my teeth dig in too deep, or to linger on any one spot for too long. My hands settled on the buckle of his belt, making short work of it. Andy made a questioning sound above me, and I squeezed him through his jeans. He let out a shaky laugh, a mumbled, “Ah.” “What’d you think I was going to do down there?” I asked as I straightened up, “Ask where you got these jeans?” “They are my favorite pair,” Andy informed me as I undid the fastenings. “And you wore them just for me?” I teased as I dipped my hand under the waistband of his underwear. Andy chuckled, tugging the cups of my bra down before he bent his head, tonguing at one of my nipples. He lapped at it delicately before taking it into his mouth. I moaned softly at the feeling, arching up into the heat. I shivered as he leaned away, blowing cool air over the wetted skin. He turned his head, mouthing over the side of my other breast before teasing the nipple. I couldn’t help my wriggling in place, squeezing my thighs together as I thumbed the head of his cock. He groaned into my skin before he leaned away to watch me. I made a move to kneel down, but he stopped me, hand steadying on my hip. “Not here,” He said softly. For the first time since we started this, fear shot through me. It must’ve shown in my face, because Andy quickly added, “The floor’s gonna be too hard on your knees, angel, I don’t want them to hurt.” I pouted, leaning in and kissing Andy warmly as I pulled his cock out. “But I wanna get my mouth on you,” I murmured, palming the shaft, “Please?” I added in the sweetest whine I could muster. Andy barely managed to stifle a desperate sound in his throat, yielding and nodding. He watched me sink to my knees, fingers still wound in my hair as I took my place on my knees. As badly as I wanted to savor the moment, I was also acutely aware of the fact that I was in my office, in a conference room with a door that didn’t lock. I cursed myself for not bringing him back to my apartment, and felt a thrill as the dangerous thought of, ‘Next time’, crossed my mind. I leaned in, teasing the head with the tip of my tongue, repeating the tender touches Andy had treated me to moments before. I peered up at him from under my lashes, relishing in the sight of him watching me through hooded lids. I bobbed my head slowly, taking a little more of him into my mouth each time, swiping my tongue around the head and along the glans on every third pass. Now and again he’d tighten his hold on my hair, apply a little more pressure, and I’d let him steer me where he wanted before I’d lightly scrape my teeth over him - a warning, a reminder of who was in charge right now. I brought my hand up from where I’d steadied myself against his thighs, gripping the shaft as I lapped at the head like a lollipop. Andy hissed. “If you keep that up, it’s gonna be over, angel,” he warned. I leaned away, raising a brow. “Did you have other plans?” I asked. Andy’s lusty satisfaction melted to a grin as he reached down, gripping me by my arms and pulling me up. “Of course I have other plans,” he chuckled, leaning in and sweeping his tongue into my mouth. I sighed, leaning against him as his arms wound around me. “Were you...Going to clue me in... At any point?” I mumbled between kisses. Andy hummed thoughtfully. “'m cluing you in now,” He pointed out. I grinned as his hands drifted over my ass, giving it a squeeze.

“What are these other plans, then?” I pressed. I couldn’t help the squeak that I let out as Andy swatted my ass. “So impatient,” He grumbled. He gave my ass another squeeze before he brought one hand around, slipping under the band of my leggings. He tutted when he felt my thighs clenched together. “Open up for me, angel,” he urged. I obliged, relaxing a bit and shuddering as his fingers prodded me through my underwear. I whimpered, pressing my face into his neck as he tapped his fingers over my cloth-covered clit. “Andy,” I mumbled. He hummed, applying a little more pressure. “I want you to fuck me,” I spoke against his skin, chasing the words with desperate little kisses.  “Not here,” Andy shook his head. I fought the urge to bite down in retaliation -- I could only be so stupid about this. “Why.” Andy’s touches became more insistent then, slipping his fingers under the band of my panties and rubbing tight, fast circles over my clit. Andy turned his head, murmuring into my ear, “Because when we do this for the first time, I’m going to do it right. It’s not going to be a quick fuck in a conference room, sweetheart. I’m going to take my time with you.” I closed my eyes, lips parting to pant stupidly against his skin. “You want that, don’t you? Want me to take care of you?” He murmured, “Want me to take you apart? You’re barely gonna remember your own fuckin’ name sweetheart, just mine.” “Andy--” I gasped. I reached down, gripping his cock where it was still resting hard against his thigh. He let out a growl, latching onto my neck and biting down. I let out a shocked shout, unable to help it, but it didn’t stop either of us. I didn’t give a damn if Nora walked in at this point and fucking fired me. Andy and I kept working one another, egging the other on with our whines and moans. I spilled over the edge first, managing to muffle my desperate cry against his shoulder. Andy followed a moment later, his release spilling over my fist and onto his abs as he mouthed over the hot, wet mark he’d made. Neither of us moved for a moment. Andy was the first to extract himself, gently moving his hand. He gave my pussy a pat before pulling his hand from my underwear. I shivered, the both of us looking down at his glistening fingers. My stomach jumped as I loosed my grip on his softening cock. What the hell did we just do? I turned away him to grab a few tissues from the corner. I cleaned my hand first, then pulled up the cups of my bra. I grabbed a couple of tissues to give to Andy. I turned back to pass them to him and froze at the sight of him sucking on the fingers he’d been teasing me with. I blinked at him, stunned, and he shot me a look of indignant amusement. “You literally had my dick in your mouth,” He pointed out. “I... Yeah. Valid.” I held the tissues out to him regardless. He took them, cleaning himself up before tucking himself away. I reached out, grabbing my shirt from his and pulling it on. I suddenly felt a bit cold, and kinda sleepy, and I vaguely remembered that this fucking fiasco had started with my plan to go and get lunch. My blood sugar was probably through the floor. Andy didn’t hurry to put his shirt on, tossing the tissues into the nearby trashcan before he reached out, bringing me back into his chest. I felt a pleased smile bloom on my face. I had been expecting him to retreat, and quickly. I rested my hands on his shoulders, eyes settled on his chest. “You goin’ all shy on me two minutes after you were writhing on my fingers?” He teased. “It’s been three minutes,” I retorted, and he laughed, leaning up and mouthing over the hollow of my throat. I closed my eyes, tipping my chin up to give him more room. “Andy?” I murmured. He hummed. “Did you mean it?” I asked. “Mean what, angel?” I swallowed thickly. “About, you know,” I mumbled. He chuckled, reveling in my bashfulness. “Not sure I do, beautiful,” He shook his head slowly, stubble scraping harshly over the mark he’d made on me, and I tightened my grip on his shoulders. “About... Taking your time with me,” I explained. Andy turned his head, pressing a tender kiss over the abused skin before he leaned back to meet my eyes. “Every fucking word.” Tag list: @fanficadddddict69 ; @nina-sj​; @rosalynshields ; @what-is-your-wish​

[twinvictim]

your opinions on each of the post team silent games and a rating out of 10. hand 'em over

YEAHHHHHH FINALLY CATERING TO ME!!!

Uh really long post oops. for reference, my rating for the first 4 sh's are as follows

Sh1: 9/10 Sh2: 7/10 Sh3: 9/10 Sh4: 9.5/10

Silent Hill 0/Origins

overall score: 7/10

Alot of the games issues can of course be attributed to it being a psp game, and while i won't excuse everything bc of that, j have to be honest and say I think it had so much potential as a (very) late ps2 game. Not to mention, the game ON THE PSP functions as it should. (The ps2 port does fucking not tho..oops) ans you'll see that this is...a rarity post team silent.

The story has alot of potential, Travis as a character is interesting and sympathetic and j think his dynamic with alessa js super fascinating to dig into, both of them being abused children and there was alot of intrigue regarding his powers, the game feels like a smaller more watered down she, and for that I can't fault it too much. The weapons system isn't my favorite but the combat itself is reminiscent of 1 and 2 and I really like a good chunk of the monster design, there was clearly thought and care put into it, nurses and strughtjackets/lying figures be dammed. The unlockables are pretty cool though and alot of the environments look pretty cool for a psp game, hell i LOVE the theater level its super unique, I would love to see it in (actually functional) better graphics. I also think the puzzles are pretty solid, not hair pulling like sh1 even if they're not quite as clever as say sh3.

My biggest criticisms come from the reuse of sh1 characters (just alessa and Travis would've been fine, maybe dahlia and some more org characters would've been better) the bad ending being straight up bad writing. Not to mention they did the sh3 thing of "kill too many monsters and get the bad ending" which is...stupid. The foreshadowing of the butcher being? He's just kinda there, I like the lead up but it would be more interesting if the butcher represented something from those years between Travis' father dying and him being an adult. And while there's more replayability imo than sh2, it doesn't have difficulty sliders and that makes it kinda hard to come back to quite as often. Not to mention unlike sh1, 3or sh4 there's not as much horror focus and random events.

Overall, solid game its fun to play, very silent Hill and if you're willing to look past a few continuity errors and accept its a little different and slightly derrivitive at the same time, I like to say I had alot of fun with it and still do. (Maybe I just like Travis alot...idk)

Silent Hill: Homecoming

Overall score: 6/10

Once again most of the issues here are gonna be corporate fuck ups, but I'm also not gonna beat around the bush, this game isn't like...good. its bad actually. "But you gave it a 6/10?" Yeah bc its not NEARLY as bad as some other games I've.. experienced.

The negatives here are, many and vast, so let's run them down. Firstly the games performance is janky on console (ps3 at least) and abysmal/unplayable on PC, what with framerate issues that are detrimental to game play on pc and make the third boss impossible. That said on console it is completable and not even too terrible...usually. Scarletts boss fight however is terribly unbalanced and broken on all skews so :/. The combat is...functional but not anyone's favorite, it's difficult to use any actually strong weapon and you can pretty much strong arm ur ways through shit with just the knife (except scarletts first form..don't try it, it won't work) for some people this will be borening (not my opinion but w/e). Most of The puzzles...leave alot to be desired. I hate sliding block puzzles. Also no run button? At all?? No easy mode? Ok... also what is this.. wheel design for the inventory...im accidentally using my serum..what is serum also? And why is the item pickup noise like...bass boosted.

The character models look awful most of the time, and comically unfinished other times, some human models are just grotesque, (judge halloway, Adam shepherd, mayor Bartlett. .you get it) and yes...there are sexy nurses. Bc of course there are. (Whole ass out???) They did straight up have some terrible endings for this game (ph ending for one, the way you get the ufo? Hell the ufo ending is kinda boring. I like the in water ending here too but. Yeah.) the story has some, problems. To say the least.

However, while the performance is bad its not the worst I've played (on the ps3 once again..unplayable on pc) and I hardly noticed the framerate when I was just running around, I personally found the combat kinda fun, between trying to dodge accurately and still attack and not use all my health items (bc those and ammo are actually rare! Unlike some games...) it is kind of a challenge and reminds me of a much worse sh4. And hey, the health items both heal an understandable amount of health that i can easily read with a bar (unlike 1-3) and they're not a complete joke (unlike sh4...) i find the exploration really fun and sure the characters look shit but the environments are Fucking great. The church is one of my fav sections, short as jt might be and yes it stole the confessional scene but its pretty well written and acted I think. The monster design is pretty fucking rad too honestly, I like the schism, siam, I like the DESIGN of the needlers even if they make me so mad to fight, and hey the nurses and ph don't show up that much to be too aggregious. The boss monsters are also fantastic design wise, very unsettling and the boss rooms are interesting as well.

The story has problems but it also has alot of potential, the concept of people sacrificing ther children for silent Hill and being overcome by their own pain and guilt is pretty fucking cool, and alex is a good character they did a good job of giving him personality, ppl bitch about him being a soldier but a) he's not and b) soldiers are people too, and a sh game that could tackle toxic masculinity, be critical of the military, and also tackle abusive religeious parents is pretty intriguing, not to mentions themes of brotherly love that's complicated bc of how they clearly favored Josh . Sure, it misses the mark, but I like taking the potential and thinking about it bc its compelling to me. And like I said, i like alex alot.

Overall, bad game yes, but not the worst as it has enough good for me to honestly really enjoy it, besides it is pretty funny when it is bad. Don't play the pc port tho

Silent Hill Shattered Memories

Overall Score: 8/10

Unpopular opinion im sure but honestly? I find this game ALMOST on par with the team silent games. Its really that good, yes its a wii game, so this is my score taking into account the motion controls BTW.

For the good, man where do i start. Its BEAUTIFUL for a wii game and esp for a post team silent game, the graphics are nice and Constsitent, the environments are pretty and it has a pretty nice cold color pallet to contrast the warmer tones the series tends to skew towards. The acting and intrgrige are all on point and the WRITING is fantastic, its one of those games you play the first time not knowing the twist and play the second time picking up more and more clues and things that strengthen that twist so much more. Like sh2 its a simple story told in such a clever and interesting way that you'll probably be too invested to put it down, I beat it in one sitting in 6 hours bc i was so engrossed in the narrative. And the Puzzles man! The puzzles are phenomenal and fun to accomplish and there's even a little bit of variety in a few places on repeat playthroughs. The level of detail in this game is insane really, the things that change with the different psychology answers are pretty cool too and tho it all plays out relatively the same its still fun to see the different things you can get to happen. The gimmicks like the phone as an object, taking pictures, sneaking and zooming in, they're not too intrusive as to take away from the exploration or other game play but not completely useless and have some pretty fun Easter eggs too. The game plays sort of like a worse outlast with good puzzles and for that I do have to commend it. Oh and the fucking MUSIC is INCREDIBLE idk something ab this soundtrack has alot of heart put into it clearly.

Now, it's not perfect. The thing is, it is a WORSE outlast type game, in the running and hiding sense but well, the hiding is completely useless, its a run away game, which is ok, but I understand that people aren't gonna be a big fan of that when silent Hill has always balanced combat ad puzzles and exploration. The running segments are..aggravating, mostly bc its hard to figure out where to go, not to mention using motion controls that don't like to work half the time to fight the monsters off of you. Also, the monsters are not scarey in the slightest and the raw shock scream is actually enragaging if you've died one to many times, there's also...not really any penalty for dying. And once you're out for these running segments,there's no danger, no monsters, nothing to hide from despite having a hiding mechanic. Its not really a horror game more of a psycological thriller and I understand that the fact that its not horror can be disappointing. The psychology things might be a bit overhyped And yeah fine, the wii foreplay scene...well yeah its weird but it IS also funny as fuck.

That said, there's still alot thats good and alot thas unfair criticism lobbed at this game. Harry didn't have much of a personality in sh1 bc he's a ps1 character and sm really fleshed him out well, not to mention giving cybil some nice characterization, and they did some interesting things with dahlia and kaufmann. And Lisa.. well I'm gonna be honest I never found Lisa all that interesting in sh1..so it doesn't bother me that she's the way she is in this game. I know people hate the "horny" aspect of it but to be completely fair, YOU choose to make the game that way, don't answer in a sexual manner or look at boobs or anything else and you won't have an overly sexual game, its...literally that easy. Its given as an option for the play id they want to go for what is arguably another joke ending. (You cannot tell me sleeze and sirens is meant to be a real serious ending to the game. Cmon) and you can complain about the innacuuracies if you want but its a spin off, a retelling of the original game. Its not canon, and it didn't change the original game. It just took the ideas presented there and made them more human and lest fantastical, there's some supernatural elements but it takes a backseat to the human moments. And its honestly really cool.

Overall, great game, i reccomend it if you don't mind some slight jank with the motion controls and honestly? Look up directions on where to go for the running segments and you'll have a pretty good time overall.

Silent Hill Downpour

Overall score (so far): 7.5/10 *to be noted i haven't finished actually playing it yet but I know the basic plot and some of the details so I doubt it'll change

And so for the final silent Hill Game, I have to say, i don't think it deserves NEARLY the hatred it gets, there's alot about it that i find really cool and even fun and I think its a solid entry, a little better than origins in some parts and its downsides are both unfortunate and once again, mostly Konami's fault . That said, I'm also not gonna kid and say its a good game, just that I like it alot and we should be nicer to the last silent Hill game were probably ever gonna get.

Downpour has a pretty good, original story overall, there's alot to it, alot of intricacies and intrigue to it that honestly make it a pretty sold silent Hill game. Its different enough from the others to stand out but not super far removed from its themes and messages. I like that it doesn't try and lean into the cult aspect and tries to do something else with it, it doesn't try to explain silent Hill, but just use it to torment the characters, as it should be. There's tragedy ad human feelings here and some of them aren't the most...sensitive but they are pretty reasonable reactions id say. Playing as someone who's odds are stacked against him from the beginning as he's a prisoner is a cool way to open the game, someone convicted and you must discover if he is a good person or not. Themes of revenge explored more than in sh3 which is pretty cool. The environments look pretty nice, and i like the look of the otherworld, once again being unique with its cooler color pallet, but without the ice so it really feels like its own thing. The EXPLORATION is awesome with an actual open world which I think works well, there's alot to do in town (unlike sh1 and 0 on limiting hardware and 2 which just pretends you can explore to town but you cant) there's alot for cool little stories and sidequests to do, my favorite so far being the cinema (which has a section of ACTUAL fixed cameras like old Resident evils which is smth SH has never done and its super fucking cool!) And all the sidequess help strengthen murphy as a cheacter and argue for his innocence or complexites. The weapons system is pretty cool, picking up items and attacking with whatever you might find, finding cool Easter eggs with exploration and having fun noticing things. And it does honestly have the strongest side characters outside of SM. The puzzles are pretty solid and fun to figure out with some cool mechanics and the seperate difficulties is a great thing to bring back (actually done well like sh3) I also kind of like the method of triggering the night world/rain/monsters, and silent Hill really feels likes its constantly punishing Murphy, as it should. The music might not be Akira but its still pretty damn good, and fuck yall I like the Korn song, and you CAN press start and skip it yknow. (Thx tomm hewlit)

The negtitives tho, well they are there. For one it has the worst performance of any sh game outside of pc homecoming and like...the hd collection, the framerate like to shit itself alot lmao, its not usually detrimental bc I've played re2r with similar framerates but, yeah its not great. Not to mention while the models look better than hc they don't animate well or often at all, and the game has trouble loading in the models as fast as they should. The sound mixing could use...some work too, poor murph sounds like he's eating the mic. While I find the games exploration really fun, murphy also has the issue of not running very fast so it can be a little annoying to get back to a place you want to be when you can't run that fast, not to mention the loading times. The monster design is def the worst in the series, maybe on par w SM. Which is disappointing bc there's some pretty good moments here and there, but not nearly enough to make it scary and there's so much you can do with monsters with this premise. Also, the running sections in the otherworld are better than SM ad even more engaging than the brief ones in 2 and 3, but still, I'd prefer to do puzzles or fight a boss or smth. I will also say, the endings are, iffy while the main 2 endings are really good and Anne's bad ending as well as the joke ending are great, murphys bad endings are weird and ooc for the muphy you come to know in the game (even more so than Origins) plus, idk that the writers knew all that much about prison andbprison culture, nobody in a real prison would be mad ab Murphy killing a pedo (there's some racist implications here and there too which is. Unfortunate and disappointing. I like Howard and Robbie but they are a bit tropey, esp Howard) that said Anne is a compelling albeit unlikable character and thas pretty cool to see pulled off.

Overall, while it has downsides, I don't think Downpour is worthy of all the scorn it gets, this can have problems and you can point them out without disregarding the good parts and while it is unfortunate it doesn't run better and have some extras and didn't handle some things great, I still think its worth a playthrough, esp if you go out of your way to do the sidequests.

Bonus round

Book of memories is not a game I intend to play bc I don't wanna get a vita and can't imagine I'm missing much. It doesn't look bad pwr say but I'm not interested tbh

Fuck PT. :)

[angst-fairygodmother]

Light Fingers (The Umbrella Academy)

Diego’s vigilantism brings him repeatedly across the path of a young cat burglar. But as he finds himself developing feelings for the thief, he begins to wonder if there’s more to her than meets the eye, and whether they’re really on opposite sides. And as their relationship deepens, it brings with it a plot involving his estranged adopted father, and threatens to destroy all of them.

CHAPTER 9: FOR BETTER OR WORSE

Word Count: 2597 Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Reader Rating: T Cross-posted to AO3: here

Previous Chapter: Tireless || Masterlist

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“Is there one you’re trying to match?” the clerk asked as Diego stared in bewilderment at the case of rings. 

“Oh. Uh, no. We didn’t really...do things the traditional way,” he explained awkwardly. 

“I see…” the clerk nodded knowingly, in a way that made Diego fairly certain they actually didn’t. “Well, we have some nice simple sets in case you decide to go back and fill in later, or you can buy it now with these ones?”

He pressed his lips together in thought. One the one hand, why get a ring symbolizing something that never happened? On the other, Y/N deserved all of the nicest things he could offer her, nicer than he could actually. 

“Let me see what you have,” he stated decisively, even though it was a decision not to decide until he had thoroughly looked over all of his options. 

At first, everything in the tray that the clerk pulled out looked exactly the same, and exactly like the kind of thing Y/N would hate, all unnecessarily large gemstones and gaudy detailing. And then one, nearly lost in the sea, caught his eye: the ring was solid silver, and made of three uneven, textured bands woven together. He pointed it out to the clerk who raised their eyebrows in surprise but offered it up, explaining that it had been a custom piece the purchaser never picked up. Upon closer inspection, Diego realized that the bands were each shaped to look like a different material: rope, barbed wire, and chain, all intricately braided with knots like roses where the three shapes met. It was perfect, like fate had designed it for you. 

“This is the one,” he breathed, awed by the luck of finding it, actually feeling tears sting at the corners of his eyes.

“An...excellent choice sir. I’ll just box it up for you. Unfortunately we don’t have any that would sit right with that one as a stack, but we do have one men’s band that has a similar braided motif if you’d like to take a look at that and forgo the third?”

He nodded, and the clerk moved over to another case to pull out another ring, this one a solid, flat silver with an engraved “rope” spiralling loosely around it. It wasn’t a perfect match, but it complimented the other well. He had never been one for metaphors, but this one smacked him in the face hard enough to not be ignored. 

He paid the clerk for both rings, not even caring about the price, and checked the time, deciding there was enough to visit the consignment shop down the road and at least find a clean shirt to wear.

~

“Heeey, Daniel,” you said cheerfully. “What are you up to this morning?”

“I was sleeping, since I have a day off for the first time in who knows how long,” your brother answered, voice still cottony from sleep but twinged with a sharp irritation. 

“Great! Can I ask you a huge favor?” you smiled pleadingly at the receiver, even though you knew he couldn’t see you. 

“What did you do?” you could almost picture him scowling as he leaned forward, all professional now.

“Nothing. It’s actually about what I want to do. It’s a long story, and kind of complicated. There’s this guy. I’ve been dating him for a few weeks, but also we’ve kind of had a...thing for almost two years,” you paused marvelling at the realization you had known Diego for so long and yet also that it felt like so much longer. “And we decided to…” you trailed off, knowing that his protective instincts would kick in, and also that he was prone to being judgmental. “Look, can you please, please, please meet us at City Park in an hour and be our justice of the peace?”

“What?!”

“I know that it sounds nuts and that as my big brother you have every right to question my sanity, but, don’t fight me on it. I love Diego, more than anything. Please?”

There was a long pause and you wondered if he had put down the phone, or fainted, or something.

“Are you sure about this?” he finally asked.

You took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to answer that. 

“No,” you finally answered. “I don’t know how to explain. It’s just this…feeling I have. Maybe it’s a mistake, but I’m taking a gamble. Chasing what I want. It’s worth it. He’s worth it.”

You heard a rustling and the slam of a drawer. Daniel sighed. 

“You’re going to need two witnesses.”

“I know, I’ll get that bit sorted. Does that mean you’ll do it?”

“You know I’ll do anything for you, Munchkin. I want you to be happy.”

“I am,” you assured, unable to keep the smile from your face, or out of your voice. “I really, really am.” 

You said your goodbyes and hung up the payphone, trying to hold in the overwhelming joy you wanted to scream to the universe. Continuing down the street, shoulders slightly hunched to the morning breeze, you stopped short when you passed a little boutique, something in the window catching your attention. 

As luck would have it, the owner was just flipping the open sign in the window, and when she saw you looking at the display mannequin, she offered you a small smile and waved you in, as only charming old ladies can. 

~

Your heart was in your throat as you walked briskly toward the park where you were supposed to meet your brother and Diego. You wanted to drag out the distance, afraid that rejection waited for you at the end, that he had decided your whole plan was outrageous and left, maybe for good. But at the same time, you were anxious to get there, both because of the frosty chill in the air, and more importantly, because of the excitement that made you feel like you were about to burst.

Patch kept pace with you easily, her long coat fluttering behind her and a soft smile on her face. Every once in a while she stole a glance over at you, marveling at how beautiful you were in the lilac dress you’d bought, your hair swept back and up by a thousand tiny bobby pins, (on anyone else the look would have been ruined by the black boots laced to your knee, but somehow on you it just added to it) and also pondering whether this was all some elaborate prank. She wouldn’t put it past you and Diego. 

When the gazebo was finally in sight, three silhouettes on its open platform, your feet skidded to a stop. 

“I can’t do this,” you said suddenly, turning to walk away before Eudora caught your arm. 

“What are you talking about, Y/N?” she asked softly, giving you that patented look of concern that made you want to spill every secret and fear you’ve ever held.

“It’s been three weeks,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks and making you grateful you hadn’t taken the time to stop for mascara. “And we just decide this morning to…? The first time we said ‘I love you’ was yesterday. This is crazy. He’s crazy.”

“Y/N,” she said, taking you by the shoulders, grounding you with her touch. “It’s alright to be nervous, or scared, or have your doubts. And you don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to. You get to decide what happens next. So, if you want to walk away, I’ll walk with you. Do you want to?”

You thought for a moment. But any attempt to rationalize or approach the question with logic like you thought you should was drowned out by the sound of laughter, the crinkle of warm brown eyes, the feel of a hand in yours and your heart beating out a rhythm matched to his that seemed to say “I’m home, I’m home.”

You shook your head, swallowing thickly. “I don’t want to run; I want to do this?”

“That sounded like a question. Are you sure?”

You swallowed again, nerves making your tongue feel heavy. “Yeah. Yes. I’m absolutely sure.”

She smiled at you and you couldn’t help answering the expression with one of your own. 

“Good,” she said. “I think we should probably keep moving then, before he has a heart attack waiting.”

You laughed, wrapping her quickly in a hug and murmuring a word of thanks.

~

Diego felt his knees go weak and his stomach do flips as he watched Y/N and Eudora approach up the cracked cobblestones of the park path. She was always beautiful, but now she looked actually angelic in the pale purple dress that trailed down to her calves. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening, even though he had been standing around for quite a while now, rings heavy in his pocket, as he talked with her brother and his wife (people he had met only once before, and now were part of the small group there for the most important day of his life) and they went over how the whole event would play out.  

Part of him wished he had been able to track down Klaus, or maybe extended a temporary olive branch to Vanya, or maybe even Luther, just to have someone there. But Y/N was there. And that was really all that mattered, the two of them. And Patch was as much a friend to him as to her, so it was something. A shabby-looking dark haired man walked past his peripheral vision and he turned his head quickly, hoping beyond reason. Unfortunately, it wasn’t his wayward brother and he sighed. 

Eudora and Y/N finally climbed up the steps, and Diego forgot all about his nerves and concerns when the woman of his dreams smiled at him, slipping her hands in his as they faced each other.

“Hi,” he murmured. 

“Hi yourself,” she countered. “Ready?”

“Never readier.”

Daniel cleared his throat and began to speak.

~

“Thank you for being here this morning, as Diego and Y/N enter into this union, a commitment of everlasting love, respect, and partnership. They join together now not as halves of a whole, incomplete without the other, but as equals, each complete and choosing the other as a compliment to themselves. They have seen each other for what they are, and what they are not, and actively decide to accept and cherish in all that entails,” your brother started. 

You shot him a glare, cutting him off before he could launch into a lecture. 

“Knowing my little sister, and the impromptu nature of today, I am prepared with something of a traditional reading, or we can forgo in favor of the more essential elements of the ceremony?”

You and Diego looked at each other. He shrugged. You rolled your eyes. “Skip the reading.”

Daniel moved on, turning to Patch and Amelia and asking, “Do you, as witnesses to this day, support, encourage, and affirm this union?”

They both looked over at the two of you, nearly lost in your own world and smiled. In near unison, they agreed. Several more formalities passed in something of a blur.

“Do you have rings?” Daniel asked, quirking an eyebrow in an expression nearly identical to the one Diego was familiar with from you.

“I do,” he said, fumbling in the pocket of his jacket, thrown over the rail behind him to pull out the small blue box. “I just hope I picked good ones.” 

You gasped as he opened up the box, showing you the rings he had picked out that morning. Your hands shook as you took it, looking closer at the detailing. 

“Oh Diego,” you sighed, smiling waterily at him. “They’re perfect.”

Daniel whistled lowly, losing his official mask in favor of being just your brother for a moment. “Damn. If I didn’t know better I’d think these were custom-made.”

Diego shrugged, blushing uncomfortably under the dual praise. “Nope, just got lucky.”

“Well, maybe that’s a good sign then, for the marriage,” Amelia chimed in, beaming at the pair of you. “Which we still need to finish…?”

“Right,” Daniel said. “Where were we? Vows!”

“I, Diego Hargreeves, take you to be my spouse. I promise that from this day forward I will regard you as my equal, my partner, and my closest friend. I will love and cherish you above all others. Our decisions will be together, in consideration of your needs and wishes as well as my own. For better or worse, sickness or health, no matter what we are going through, I will be there at your side, with love and support. Until the end of the world. I love you, so much.” He smiled, flashing you a wink before slipping your ring onto your finger.

You laughed, winking right back before reciting the same promises in turn and slipping the other ring onto his hand, keeping your fingers locked together after.

Daniel discretely swiped a tear from his eye. 

“With these rings and vows exchanged, a promise made before witnesses and a symbol of that bond between you, it is my greatest pleasure, by the power vested in me by the state, to pronounce you as married, joined in spirit and in law.”

Diego grinned, sweeping you into a kiss, holding you tight against him, until three voices around you cleared their throats.

“Breakfast?” Patch asked. “On me, as a gift to the newlyweds?”

~

An hour later, you sat beside each other (everyone else having left to go about their day), people passing by blithely unaware that for the two of you life had just changed, both staring down at your interlocked hands and the bands on your fingers. 

“Did we actually just…?” he asked breathlessly.

You laughed. “You were there Diego. You said the words, same as I did.” 

You hesitated, fearful still that he hadn’t intended it to be real, that it had been a joke or a fantasy you had taken too far.

“It’s not too late to undo it, though,” you explained hurriedly. “I mean it’s a weekend so Daniel won’t file the certificate with the city until at least Monday, so we can ask him to just rip it up and forget it ever happened. Or if he does file it early somehow, annulling this kind of thing is pretty easy since we haven’t mingled assets or anything. I just thought...well I don’t actually know what I thought.” Tears started to well up as you stumbled over yourself in your rush. 

He tilted your chin up with his free hand, kissing you tenderly, as if he could pour every feeling and thought in his heart into the one action. 

“I don’t want to undo it,” he murmured, eyes crinkling with mirth. “I just can’t believe we actually got married in the first place.”

“Well believe it. You’re stuck with me now.” You laughed, kissing the end of his nose. 

“There’s no one else I’d rather.”

Your heart swelled at the confession as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Well, husband, what do you say we go home, spend the rest of the day as newlyweds should?”

He smiled, groaning as he stood and his battered body protested the idea of moving. As you let him tug you to your feet, you felt probably almost as bad as he did, aching from head to toe, the events of the night catching up to you.

“Or maybe we spend it sleeping…” you mumbled.

[stilestilikeslydia]

Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy: Part Two

so I’m almost never on tumblr anymore, but in case any of you remember my old fics, I wanted to come back to let you know that I FINALLY finished the second part to this fic that I wrote for the Stydia Big Bang almost four years ago haha

there’s also some excellent art for it that @wellsjahasghost and @sydrianssage made for it way back in 2017 that you can check out here and here if you would like :)

enjoy!

(Rated M)

“I can't believe I've been a ghost for ten years, and nobody thought to tell me about the new Star Wars trilogy until today. ”

“Stiles, nobody even knew you existed until last month.”

Kira slapped Malia’s knee—lightly, because Kira was still incapable of giving an actual reprimand. “Well, we’ve told you about it now,” she said, offering him her brightest smile. “What did you think?”

“I think… I miss my blissful ignorance from eight hours ago, when I didn’t know that George Lucas greenlit this absolute garbage fire,” Stiles whined. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, The Force Awakens started out with a lot of potential, and the cast is full of extremely hot and talented people, but what the fuck?! My only regret is that my death tree wasn’t transformed into a desk in the writers’ room for these movies, or I could have haunted those dipshits until they figured out how to write a plot that actually made sense.”

“Your only regret, huh?” Lydia asked, keeping her tone dry and incredulous.

“No, you're right,” Stiles said, his expression instantly transforming into the biggest shit-eating grin Lydia had seen since before he'd died. “I also regret not inventing ectoplasmic grocery stores before my death. It’s unfair that I cook for all of you and don't get to eat any of it.”

“Not our fault you actually enjoy cooking,” Malia pointed out. “And depleting Lydia's bank account.”

“I am going to strangle you,” Lydia said. “Werecoyote strength or not.”

“But then who’s going to sit next to you in bars and make fun of everybody we see?”

“Yeah, you need her for that,” Kira added. “I’m terrible at judging people, and so is Scott.”

Scott toasted her with a grin, looking relaxed and comfortable against the armrest of the oversized couch he was currently sharing with a ghost and a realtor. Stiles took one look at him and snorted.

“Scott’s a terrible judge of many things,” he agreed. “People… the distance between a car bumper and the curb… movies…”

“Movies?”

“Yes, Scott!” Stiles crowed, now fully recovered from his initial disappointment. “This trilogy may have been a mess, but in order to watch it, you must have seen the other two trilogies too, and that means you have to know how great they are! Admit it, Star Wars is amazing, you were wrong, and I was right! Not watching it with me earlier was the biggest mistake of your life!”

“Maybe not the biggest,” Scott said, the grin on his face slipping a little. Lydia’s fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass. “Anyway, I already knew the Star Wars movies were good. I watched them junior year.”

“Junior year?! ” Stiles squawked, so surprised that he started sinking into the couch. “And you never told me?! What the hell, man, all those times you pretended not to get my references and you—”

“Of college,” Scott clarified, and the room went silent.

Lydia set her wine glass down on the coffee table with trembling fingers. The tapping of glass on wood sounded like a gunshot, a bullet to the lungs. There was a crescent moon outside. For one heart-shattering moment, Lydia swore she could smell wolfsbane.

“I’m going to go get a glass of water,” she said, voice too harsh to her own ears, bouncing off the walls and clanging in her skull. Another bullet to the lungs.

The next thing she became aware of was the press of a cabinet knob against her back, the solidity of a hardwood floor underneath her body. She was leaning against the kitchen island, eyes level with the cabinet that Stiles had poked open over and over again to entertain Brooke all those weeks ago. Tonight, though, when she opened it herself, there was nothing inside.

Lydia clung to the knob anyway and tried not to cry.

It wasn’t Stiles who came to check on her after a few minutes, or Scott, or even Kira. Instead, Malia was the one who tugged the cabinet door out of Lydia’s hand and dropped to the floor, flinging her legs out to one side and meeting Lydia’s eyes without flinching.

“Kira started talking about BB-8 again,” she said. “Scott looked like he wanted to change the subject.”

Lydia pressed her lips together, looked away, and settled her hands on her knees with careful precision. “That was nice of her. I’m sure he did.”

“He told me, you know,” Malia continued without missing a beat. “About what you told him. About Stiles wanting you to sell the house.”

Lydia’s fingers clenched around the hem of her dress. “Yes.”

Malia narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to?”

“I have to,” Lydia said, “or Yvenne will just find another realtor.”

“Okay, maybe,” Malia said. “But who are you going to sell it to ?”

Lydia froze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on,” she said. “I know you’ve been considering it. You’ve been eyeing the curtains in the living room like you can’t wait to change them all night.”

“Maybe I just can’t believe Yvenne expects me to find a buyer for this house when it’s been decorated so poorly.”

Malia rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to lie to me. I’m more observant than you think, and I’m not Scott or Stiles. I’m not going to try and stop you.”

Slowly, precisely, Lydia tilted her head and met Malia’s piercing gaze. “You know what you’re saying, right? Scott and Stiles would try to stop me.”

“Yeah,” Malia said. “And that matters, because Lydia Martin always does what people tell her to do. And I had a normal childhood. And math was my favorite subject in high school.”

After a long moment, Lydia stood. Malia mimicked the movement. “I just think we’ve already lost enough people,” Lydia admitted. “I don’t want to lose him twice.”

“Like I said. I’m not going to try and stop you.”

For a while, Lydia told herself that she hadn’t made up her mind. She let Stiles cook her every meal and listened to him relive memories from high school and the two years of college he’d gotten to enjoy, doing his best to help her appreciate the times they’d shared together without losing herself in them. She fell asleep on the couch with him while they watched movies together and pretended that she didn’t know he’d been playing with her hair when she woke up. She allowed him to teach her how to cook and change the oil in her car, life skills that she’d always expected him to handle in their relationship, life skills he wanted her to master before he moved onto wherever he expected to go once he stopped being a ghost, but—

But then, on a Thursday afternoon a week before Yvenne’s deadline, Lydia’s phone rang.

They were in the middle of making stir fry, but Stiles nudged her with the spatula he was using—one loophole he’d found for their inability to make physical contact—and told her to answer it “just in case.” “It could be important, Lyds.”

That was precisely why she didn’t want to answer it, but with a long-suffering sigh and a pointed glare, Lydia wiped her hands off on a paper towel and picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, Lydia Martin? This is Shea O’Malley.”

Predictably and irksomely, Lydia’s heart rate increased. “What can I do for you, Shea?” she asked, smoothing on her realtor’s smile even though Shea couldn’t see. Between the way Stiles’s eyebrows were raised and the way his head was tilted so he could hear Shea’s half of the conversation, Lydia needed the extra armor.

“Well, Ben and Piper and I have been shopping around the neighborhoods near that lovely red house you showed us, but we simply haven’t found a place that compares. After a long discussion, Ben and I have decided that there’s no use searching any longer. We would like to place an offer on that red house.”

Lydia’s head was all white noise and bloodstains and terror. She tried to picture saying goodbye to Stiles and watching him dissolve into whatever dimension the rest of their dead loved ones had ended up in. She tried to imagine handing the keys over to the O’Malleys and leaving the red house for good. She tried to convince herself that it was possible for her to move on.

But like the O’Malleys, Lydia discovered that it was no use.

Once upon a time, it might have been possible for her to move on. But now Lydia’s heart was inextricably entwined with this red house.

The only difference was that Lydia had the ability to hold onto it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, the white noise fading to a treacherous whisper. (So, basically nothing. Treacherous whispers were old friends in Lydia’s mind.) “You’re too late. The red house has already been sold.”

Stiles froze. Lydia froze, judging his reaction. Over the phone line, Lydia heard Shea’s breath catch, and then she sighed. “Are you certain there’s no chance of the buyer changing their mind? I mean, if we could place a counteroffer—”

“I’m afraid that there’s no amount of money you could offer that this particular buyer wouldn’t match,” Lydia said with as much gentleness as she could muster. The O’Malleys really were a nice family. “They’re quite dedicated, have a substantial savings account, and are at least as attached to the house as you are.”

Shea’s second sigh was only slightly less audible than the first. “Well, that’s it, then,” she said tiredly. “Thank you for all of your help, Lydia. We all thoroughly enjoyed meeting you the other day.”

“If you still haven’t found a different house in the next few weeks, let me know and I’ll help you keep looking. Free of charge,” Lydia blurted, because she was going to keep the house and Stiles and therefore she could afford to offer a little kindness to the family whose dream home she had just poached.

“Why, that’s very kind of you,” Shea said, oblivious to Lydia’s silent betrayal. “We may just take you up on that offer. Thank you again.”

And after the exchange of a few more pleasantries, she hung up.

“What the fuck?” Stiles said into the resulting silence. “A buyer made an offer on this house, and you didn’t tell me about it?”

Lydia set her phone on the counter. “You don’t really want me to leave.”

Stiles dropped his spatula. “What?”

“Come on, Stiles,” Lydia said. “Who do you think you’re talking to? If you really wanted me to move on, you never would have opened your mouth. I would have walked into this house on that first day, sold it, and walked right back out without ever knowing that you were here.”

“I—” Stiles spluttered. “I was surprised, and I just—”

“Maybe,” Lydia replied. “But that could have been it. I told you not to make it difficult for me to sell this house, and instead you scared off buyer after buyer until I figured out who you were. You say you want me to move on, but you’re here, Stiles. You’re standing right in front of me, and I’m never going to move on when I could have this instead!”

“What do you want me to say?” Stiles demanded. “Do you want an apology? Because I know you deserve one. I—I—I’m sorry for talking to you, I’m sorry for cooking you dinner, I’m sorry for being here! I didn’t mean to make this harder for you, and I’m sorry that I did! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“NO!”

It wasn’t a banshee scream, but it left Lydia hoarse and aching all the same.

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” she whispered. “I just want you to want me to stay.”

“Well, I am sorry, Lyds. And I can’t give that to you.”

“Stiles—”

“Pick up the phone, Lydia. Call the O’Malleys. Tell them the buyer changed their mind.”

Lydia took a deep breath and looked at the man who was the love of both her life and whatever came after that. “No.”

“Lydia.”

“No, Stiles! I’m not going to do that! These last few weeks have been the happiest weeks of the past ten years. You can’t honestly stand there and expect me to give that up.”

“That’s the thing, though,” he said. “I’m not actually standing here.”

“That doesn’t matter to me.”

“But it should.” Stiles reached out, brushed his fingers through a loose strand of her hair, and then stepped away. “I might not be able to stop you from buying this house, but that doesn’t mean I have to give you a reason to live here.”

There was a whoosh, as if he was opening up that interdimensional doorway again, and then he disappeared.

On the stove, the stir fry began to burn.

(read the rest on ao3)

[imanativeofswlondondahling]

Becoming A Stark? (12) - Peter Parker x Stark! femReader

Word Count: 4014

Warnings: Mention of needles, swearing

Author Note: Lots of Peter, Tony, and Pepper. All my favorites. Enjoy! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Next update will be this weekend- after my finals are done hopefully. 

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Master List

Your dad has never seen you do a pump change or a sensor change. Honestly all the supplies live in your room so it’s just easier for you to do it there. But after Peter and him finished in the lab on Friday, Pepper asked Peter if he wanted to stick around for dinner, which then turned into him staying to watch a movie with you, Pepper, and Tony. But in the middle of Labyrinth, which is your favorite movie, your sensor fails. “Goddamn it Wallace.” You mutter looking at your phone screen, displaying the replace sensor now message as Chilly Down plays in the background.

“What’s wrong?” Tony asks you before speaking to FRIDAY. “FRI- pause the movie.” Sarah and all the swamp creatures, if you can call them that stop moving as your dad’s attention is focused on you. “You high? You low? Tell me what’s happening?” He asks.

“Sensor failed. Like five days early too.” You reach under your shirt and pull off the sensor that isn’t doing anything for your now. But your nails trace over where the sensor had been. “But the only good thing is I can scratch the itch that has been driving me bonkers.” You admit.

“So what do you need?” You dad has turned his hyperfocus on, but this isn’t something you can’t handle.

“I just have to grab the stuff to change it. Give me like five minutes and I can change it while we watch the movie.”

“I’ll grab some more drinks for everyone while we do.” Pepper says with a smile. “And maybe make some more popcorn too.”

Walking into your bedroom, you open the drawer that’s filled with all your supplies. You grab the four things you need: the sensor, alcohol wipes, a Skin Tac wipe, and an over patch. Oh shit! Your transmitter was supposed to last through this last sensor, so you’ll have to replace that one too. Picking everything up in your hands you make your way back down towards the living room. 

“Got enough stuff kiddo?” Your dad asks as you sit back down.

“You should see what it looks like when I have to do a double site change. So much more trash.” You notice Peter has your old sensor in his hand and is turning it over, looking at it from all the angles.

“Sorry.” He mumbles as he notices you staring at him. “I just found it interesting.”

“It doesn’t bug me. It’s trash now.” You lift it from his hand and snap out the transmitter. “This comes apart, since normally you reuse the transmitter for three months at a time. But that one bit the dust with the sensor failing.” You explain before motioning towards the box with the new one. 

“And this whole thing reads your sugars?” You nod.

“That wire there gets inserted under the skin into this tissue or something that my lack of science can’t explain. But it reads your fluids or stuff that’s there and reports that data through the transmitter to my pump and to my phone.”

“Do you feel the wire under your skin?” Peter asks.

“Nope. The most I feel from the whole sensor is if I like lay on it wrong, or if I start reacting to the adhesive. Or if I place it in a spot and a door rips it off. That fucking hurts.” You think back to the last time that a door ripped your sensor off and wince slightly.

“Hold on, go back. You react to the adhesive?” Your dad’s voice is suddenly concerned.

“Well I’m allergic to latex and some other adhesives so every now and then I react to the Dexcom adhesive.” You shrug. “That’s why I use these.” You hold up the over patch and the Skin Tac. “They produce barriers and help it stay on long enough.”

“You’re allergic to your medical device and yet you still wear it?” Your dad voices his concern.

“It’s either that or wake up multiple times a night to check my sugars. I’ll take some hives and blisters over that. I like sleeping.” You say with a shrug. Opening the bag that holds the sensor, you lay out all the things that you need for this sensor change. You wipe down your thigh with the alcohol wipe before taking the transmitter out of the box so you can pair it. While it works on pairing, you take the Skin Tac wipe and wipe down the skin so the adhesive can become tacky. While it’s drying, you break off the safety handle off of the sensor. 

“What the fuck kiddo? That needle is like six inches long?” Your dad exclaims, seeing it through the plastic inserter.

“Yeah, it has to be so that it can get deep enough for the sensor to work. But it gets pulled out. I can go in the other room if the needle thing is going to be an issue?” You sometimes forget that other people aren’t as calm around needles as you are after ten years of being a diabetic.

“No it’s fine. Stay where you are. I just thought it was something that you like placed on your skin.”

“But how would the wire get into the tissues?” You ask rhetorically. You pull the papers that are blocking the adhesive and lie it down where you want the sensor to go. You’re not going to say anything to Peter or your dad, because their eyes are already on you, but you actually hate plunging this needle down. Place the sensor in the wrong spot and it hurts badly as it plunges through veins and nerves with no mercy. So instead of showing the fear of hoping you’ve picked a good spot, you take a breath, smile at them and say “Three, two, one,” and slam the needle down. “Motherfucker!” You exclaim as you feel it shoot through a nerve. You pull the needle out and rub at the skin around the sensor. Your dad is by your side in seconds, while Peter jumps up, not sure what is causing you pain, but doesn’t want to be the cause of more pain.

“What can I do, bambina?” Your dad asks. Peter’s arms cross as he watches as one of your eyes scrunches up as you continue to rub the same spot on your thigh. Tony’s arm wraps around you once he knows that he won’t hurt you more.

“Nothing. I picked a shit spot to put it. Hit a nerve.” You explain. You put the transmitter in clicking it in, hearing the double click to be sure. And twist off the end piece of plastic. Lastly you add the overpatch that has roses drawn on it to secure it in place. “I’m good now, I promise.” You look up at your dad, seeing that he doesn’t believe you.

“I hate seeing you in pain.”

“It’s part of diabetes. We deal with a lot of pricks.” You joke, but he doesn’t laugh.

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” His arms wrap around you and you’re pulled into a crushing hug. “If I could take all the pain for you, I would.” You lean into your dad’s arms. 

“Who’s to say I want you in pain?” 

“It’s my job to protect you kiddo. You’ve had enough pain. If I want to shoulder it, I should be allowed to.” You rub over the overpatch making sure it’s holding as he talks.

“Or neither of us could hurt and we could finish the best movie of all time.” You say as you hit the buttons to start the warm up period.

“What’s your number?” You shrug.

“Takes two hours to warm up. Testing kit is in my room.” Tony reaches for the drawer in the table. “Last I looked I was solid 180s. I’m fine.”

“You start feeling shaky or anything-”

“We’ll both be shocked, but yes I’ll let you know.” You look at Peter. “You going to stand for the rest of the night?” Tony’s just glad he didn’t jump onto the walls or worse the ceiling. That would have blown the whole Spider-Man thing. Instead he stays focused on the feeling of having you in his arms as Chilly Down starts to play again. He’s a little surprised that Labyrinth is your favorite movie, but he’ll take learning anything about you that he can. And this is one of those little moments that Pepper was talking about you sharing with him. So as the puppets dance around the screen, Tony’s arm holds you closer. You don’t even look up as you scoot closer and lean against his shoulder. 

As she walks back in from the kitchen, Pepper snaps a picture of you and Tony from behind the couch. The sight of you curled into his arms is something that he will want forever, but this moment, she wants to stay in as well. Seeing Tony as a dad- it makes her love him that much more.

After last night, Peter doesn’t expect to be back at the tower so soon, especially after spending two days in the lab last week with Mr. Stark, but they’re finally making progress on the new webbing solution, and Mr. Stark said “why don’t you come over tomorrow to keep working on it Pete?” And Peter wasn’t going to turn down the chance to work with Mr. Stark, or a chance to get to see you more. But what he wasn’t expecting to see when he entered the tower was you dancing around the kitchen as you cleaned it. Peter was used to doing chores, sure, what teenager wasn’t? But he never would have though Tony Stark one to make his kids clean house to earn their keep. Honestly, he would have thought Tony Stark would have had someone, or even a robot, to clean for him. However you didn’t seem that worried about cleaning. 

“Hey Y/N.”

“Hey Parker. You’re practically living here these days.” You look stunning, even though you’re just in weekend clothing of a tie-dyed shirt with the Mystery Machine printed on it that says Scooby Doo underneath, a pair of jean shorts, and your hair pulled up into a ponytail with a blue scrunchy.

“Your dad and I are trying to finish up a project.”

“Must be important for you to be giving up a Saturday to get it done.” You laugh as you pour some powder cleaner on the counter top before running a sponge over top it. You’re not on the wrong path. The new webbing solution is pretty important. 

“The paparazzi would lose their mind if they knew Y/N Stark spends her Saturdays doing chores like the rest of us peasants.”

“Celebrities, they’re just like us.” You smirk. “Unless you’re planning on grabbing a sponge and joining in, you should probably head on down to the lab.”

“See you later Y/N.” You smile as Peter heads out of the kitchen, letting the music of your playlist take over as you keep cleaning. Focusing on something other than the essay you don’t want to write for your science class is nice. Also it seems like no one has cleaned the kitchen since the fight between your dad and the rogue Avengers. Pulling the burners grates off the stove, you see grease and crumbs that could have been easier to clean had someone wrapped the grease trap with tin foil. So it’s time for some tender loving care and jamming out to Carry On My Wayward Son. 

“Hi Mr. Stark.” Peter says, not wanting to surprise Tony as he walks into the lab.

“Morning Pete.” Tony takes a sip of the coffee cup to his right as he looks over the numbers on his tablet. “Did you manage to get any sleep last night? Karen said you went patrolling after you left here.”

“I got some sleep.” Peter nods. “Did you? I feel like your whole family has been up since I left last night?”

“We all slept. I think Y/N might still be in bed. She was when I came down here.”

“No, she’s up, working on her chores.” Tony turns from the numbers cranking in front of him, to look at Peter with confusion marking his face.

“She doesn’t have chores.”

“Well she’s upstairs cleaning the kitchen. I just thought she was working on chores, but I guess I guessed wrong.”

“We have people that we can call in. I don’t know why she’s cleaning… You mean like with a sponge and wipes and such?” Tony asks, trying to clarify and Peter nods his head. “She must have her reasons. But I’m not making her do it.”

“I believe you.” Tony turns from the datapad or- as Peter had started calling it since Tony had started tracking Y/N’s blood sugar on it as well- his Dad-apad, 

“How do you feel about working on one of the cars while these numbers crunch? We can’t continue on the aspects to add until they finish crunching.”

“Sure Mr. Stark.”

“You can call me Tony kid.”

“I know Mr. Stark.” Tony rolls his eyes at that.

“FRI, turn on Tony Stark Can Rot.” Peter is confused at the name of the playlist, but the songs that start playing sound somewhat familiar. From what he had seen in his time working in the lab, Tony wasn’t one to name his playlists, but to name one so angrily towards himself seems unlike Tony. But Tony doesn’t seem to think anything of it as he climbs under the side of his Audi and calls out for some tools. Peter hands him the wrench and falls into the habit of working with Tony until Friday calls out a while later.

“Boss, Y/N just asked Miss Potts where the first aid kit is.” Tony goes still. 

“Stay here.” He leaves the lab without more than the two words. 

It was an injury that only you were capable of. How does someone get hurt cleaning? And a paper cut, if you could call it that, on tin foil nonetheless. You didn’t want to bother your dad when he was busy on a project with Peter. Pepper was the easier option since you just don't know where bandages are kept. “FRIDAY can you ask Pepper where we keep a first aid kit?”

A moment later, Pepper is coming down the stairs with one in hand. “We keep a few all over the house. This is from the upstairs bathroom. What did you do?”

“Paper-ish cut.” You should her, removing the paper towel you’re holding over the cut that is bleeding still. “The tin foil attacked me.” You explain as she looks at the small cut.

“Why are we needing first aid kits? No one should be getting hurt.” Your dad’s voice comes from the doorway to the lab and you roll your eyes. Of course FRIDAY had told him. 

“Tattletale.” You mutter as Pepper wraps the bandage around your finger.

“If people are asking for first aid kits, I want to know.” Tony defends himself.

“I cut myself on tin foil. It was stupid. I’m fine.”

“Ok, then do you want to explain what’s with the deep cleaning? Peter literally thought I gave you chores. Which is not something that I would make you do. Plus you know we have people who can be called in to clean right?”

“That such a spoiled right person thing to say, you know that right?” You say with a roll of your eyes. 

“Avoiding the question.”

“Actually I’m avoiding a biology paper. So I figured cleaning would be a good avoidance technique.”

“Next time you’re avoiding SI business, can you take a page out of her book?” Pepper asks Tony in a teasing tone. 

“I build things. It’s productive in it’s own way.”

“You destroy things. That’s different.” Pepper points out. “What’s your biology paper about?” 

“Some life cycle bullshit or something.” You turn back to scrub the counter. “I’ve dealt with enough of it that I don’t want to do it. But my choice is write a paper or build a model and that’s not my go to.” You choose to not explain that it’s literally over the one lifecycle of yours that doesn’t work.

“You have a choice to build something and you went against that? Pep, we need to get her tested to make sure she’s my kid.”

“Tony, she literally acts and looks like you. I don’t need to test her DNA to know she’s yours.” 

“Is everything ok? Someone dying?” Peter’s voice comes.

“No one’s dying. Just my dad overreacting.” You say. “He could have gone back to the lab ages ago.”

“Why don’t you come with?” Tony suggests and both you and Peter look at him in surprise. However only you voice your surprise. Peter is trying to figure out how to hide Spider-Man if you come down to the lab.

“Why?”

“Because there’s plenty of stuff down there to make a- if I say so myself- bitchin’ science project.”

“But I can also just stay up here and write a paper after I avoid it for a few more hours?”

“Which project is it?” Peter asks, trying to figure out who you have for your science this year.

“Never said I was doing the project.”

“No one ever chooses to do the paper when they have the option to do a project instead.”

“There’s always the chance to be the first.”

“But you’ll score higher with a project. At least there’s the chance to anyway, depending on who your teacher is.”

“Shah.”

“Mr. or Mrs.?” Peter asks.

“Why does that make a difference?”

“Because they grade completely differently.” Peter explains. “Mrs does great experiments but is a harsher grader.”

“Well, I have Mr. Shah so what does that mean?”

“It means you better get started on your project. He hates papers.” Peter says with a tight smile.

“Ugh. But writing a paper all about me was going to be a sinch.” Three pairs of eyes fall on you in confusion. “Endocrine system. Explaining how pretending to be one sucks. It was going to be a great paper.”

“Isn’t there a company that’s in the process of trying to make a closed loop system?” Peter asks, which makes you nod hesitantly. “Why not make a project showing the differences between a closed loop system and what you’re currently doing? Explain why a closed loop system would be so much better.”

“Sorry, maybe I’m the only one lost here-” Pepper starts to ask.

“You’re not.” Tony interrupts.

“-But what’s a closed loop system?” Pepper continues.

“It's a system where basically Wallace and Queenie would basically be able to talk to each other. So if I started rising too high Queenie would be able to give me more insulin. Or vice versa, if I go too low, Wallace would tell Queenie and she would stop giving me insulin. It would hopefully prevent me from going too low or too high as often. Or going low enough that I’d need a glucagon again.”

“How far out are they from that being made?” Tony asks.

“Few years at least. The couple companies that are doing this haven’t even made it to human testing yet.”

“I want-” Pepper interrupts him, already knowing where he’s going.

“Tony, no. SI is not-” Tony cuts her off.

“Why not?” Pepper doesn’t have an answer ready and he plows ahead. “It’s for her. And millions of others. I don’t want to see her in the medbay ever again. Not because I had to stab her with a needle due to her sugars being so low she could die. So why can’t we add this to things we’re working on?”

“Well for one thing, we don’t have the technology to do anything diabetes related.”

“Dad, you’re jumping into something you know nothing about.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. Wallace and Queenie, what are their companies' names?”

“Why are you going to buy them out?”

“I’m going to see about working with them.”

“Dexcom and Tandem.” You knew there was no stopping him once he was in this mindset. SI was going to be joining the insulin supply game. Especially since Pepper didn’t seem to be trying to stop him either. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes I do!” Tony’s voice explodes from him. “Iron Man can do a lot of things. But I can’t keep your blood sugar stable. I can’t keep it from dropping too low or rising too high. I can’t do anything but watch when you’re shaking from not enough sugar or look like you’re going to fall asleep during the day after you’ve been up all night from your sugars keeping you awake all hours of the night. I can’t take away the pain when your sensor hits a nerve and I can’t take away all the times you have to plunge a needle into your skin to draw blood sample after blood sample. I can’t stop any of that. But this? Science related stuff. This is something I can do for you. I can put the best technology on the market. I can help make sure that your devices are the best possible things so that you have the least amount of pain possible. That’s what I can do for you since I can’t do anything else for you.” As his voice rips out of him, voicing all the things he’s never felt like he could say to you, you inch closer to him. You’ve only had him in your life for a few months now, but you know what you’ve been told is true. Tony loves you a lot. He takes a breath, trying to calm down from his explosion of words. Your arms wrap around him, breathing in the smell you’ve started to associate with your dad. “Kiddo, I…”

“I love you.” You breathe in the smell of the motor oil from the cars he probably had been working on with Peter, the smell of the cologne that he must only lightly mist on because it only lingers along his shirt, and the smell of what must be an aftershave from the almost minty scent to it. 

“I love you too kiddo. So much.” The words are spoken softly, left on a puff of air into your hair. His own arms wrap around you, getting slightly tangled in your pump tubing, but ignoring it as he holds you close. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Better than Iron Man?” You tease.

“So much better than Iron Man.”

Across the kitchen, Pepper and Peter are watching the interaction. Peter can’t help but whisper the question he can no longer hold back. “Y/N has gone low enough to need a glucagon?” Pepper nods slowly. Peter must have been doing some research about your condition.

“It’s only happened once since she moved in. But it scared him. Worse than anything Iron Man related.”

“From what I was reading, that’s supposed to be a, like, last resort type thing.”

“It was a last resort thing. I wasn’t there when he gave it to her. But from what I heard, she was unconscious, having seizures and very low.”

“Could she have died?” Peter doesn’t want to know the answer, but feels like he needs to know.

“If she had been alone, possibly. But she wasn’t. She was with Steve, Clint, and Natasha, who then called Tony.”

“So this was before…” Peter trails off, knowing that Y/N only knows so much about what happened in Germany. Pepper nods. 

“She hasn’t seen them since. But I know they would do anything for her again. If Tony would let them near her.” Peter nods, knowing from spending time with Tony and you that Tony would let the world burn if it saved you. You are his child. Which made the feelings Peter has for you harder to manage, because Tony would murder Spider-Man before letting his daughter near the superhero.

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