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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

Text

Healing

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: TW - sexual assault, rape, objectification and implications of abuse, smut, consensual sex, azriel is a sweetie and rhys is a good bestie

a/n: first of all PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!! i’m really proud of this fic but I don’t want to trigger or upset anyone, that being said it isn’t too graphic but still. Anyway I hope u enjoy, this took me three days lmao <333

based on: this and this

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You had your first less than savoury encounter with men when you had barely turned nine. Your body still hadn’t finished forming, but you were growing, and your body was gaining some semblance of shape as you did. It wasn’t much – just a whistle from across the street – but for a second your heart seized up with fear, and in the next you almost felt giddy. A man thought you were beautiful.

You felt like a princess that day – felt the way you had when the boy from your class had kissed your cheek, still too young to process the intentions behind that single whistle. But you didn’t care – someone wanted you.

When you got your first period at twelve – even more changed. Your body felt new, and you didn’t feel comfortable in the changes. Your old clothes didn’t fit and now your mother forced you into tighter corsets for those long, long dinners you had to attend. Your parents were respected Fae in the Hewn City – nobles who liked to drink and smoke and throw extravagant balls. And with your new body you could no longer simply hide in the corner or climb through secret passages with your friends – muddying your dresses.

Now you had to smile when men hugged you slightly too long, laugh when they commented on how much you had grown up, sit pretty and pristine with an old mans hand loitering to close to your rear for hours as you watched your parents drink away their troubles.

By the time you were fifteen you were used to the constant attention, your beauty not uncommon where you lived but still doted on often. Unaware of their desire for your youth, your naivety. The women never offering a helping hand but instead glaring down high skewed noses as their husbands slurred into your ears – still in shock that a pretty, young thing like you was all alone at this party.

When you were sixteen you decided to change that – kissing an alright looking boy at a party and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear so he would kiss you back. He stayed when you didn’t protest as he pulled you to the bathroom and pushed you to your knees. And for this small request, the greasy hands on your body at balls and dinners or any other social gathering halved – now only the truly self-righteous felt they could touch you still.

The only problem was you truly did love the boy you had chosen. He had faults yes, but he was kind – he brought you flowers and kissed your cheek. But he also spoke over you, forced you into silence and took what he wanted. And he always wanted the same thing.

If anything it was his father’s fault. The military commander never leaving room for debate when he argues with his wife – and sons only become what they see in their fathers.

Your father had left with a younger woman a few months after your fourteenth birthday, and you hadn’t seen him since – only heard stories of him galivanting around the autumn court from your classmates. You could see the distaste your mum held you in as she realised she would have to stick around to look after you, not yet old enough to be married. Then Amarantha had taken hold of the country and that possibility had been thrown out the window anyway.

Weirdly enough not that much changed in your life when she took power, the only major difference was that now you had to block out screams before going to sleep and even they had become like white noise. You still drank with your friends on Friday nights, went out with your boyfriend on Saturdays and slept the pain away on Sundays. Your weekdays consisted of school, dinners, balls and whatever more your mother could throw together to appease the high queen.

That and the high lord of the night court had started making appearances at the events your mother threw. He was a cruel man standing so proudly at the queen’s side – but you saw something flickering in his eyes whenever people spoke, complimenting his power and rule. You saw what you felt as you laughed at compliments and lingering touches – you saw pain, but more importantly you saw anger. And right now you could use anger.

During one ball you watched him leave, taking an odd route – not the one that would help him escape the loud music but instead a long winding corridor leading to a series of smaller rooms. Without thought you peeled away from your company, muttering excuses and went after him – grabbing a bottle of wine as you did.

You found him reclining in an empty room and knocked on the door gently. He cracked open an eye – slow like a cat – and beckoned you in. You moved to perch next to him, leaning back with a straight back and letting your head loll slightly as you took a swig of the dark red wine, before passing him the bottle.

“You looked like you could use a drink,” you smiled, eyes focused on his sharp jaw as he held the bottle to his mouth with a laugh.

“One way of putting it,” he smiled. The two of you sat in silence for several minutes as you took in his beauty, his looks plus mannerisms all made him seem like a wild cat - a panther trapped underground.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked, and you raised a hand to trace that sharp jaw. But instead of devouring you as any lesser man would’ve, he brushed your hand away and held it tightly in his larger one. “That’s not gonna happen, you’re what sixteen?”

“Almost seventeen,” you said, cheekily. He laughed but shook his head, squeezing your hand before releasing it.

“You’re still a child,” he said matter-of-factly, and you scoffed, stealing your wine back to drink again.

“Yeah well that’s usually a selling point,” your voice was sad, but you didn’t dare let your eyes stray from his – refusing to show fear, “And you’re so nice to me, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

He laughed as you pouted, “You practice this in the mirror or something?”

“Usually works in three seconds,” you confess, and he whistles under his breath, “Men are rather easy to manipulate when they’ve been trying to get into your skirts since your first bleed.”

“And you wonder why I’m not about to take advantage of you,” he laughed, and you smiled – a real smile, or real enough. “Plus I don’t think your little boyfriend would be pleased.”

“Eh, he’s never pleased - I don’t think this could make him worse.” Rhysand took the wine back and frowned.

“Does he hurt you?” his voice was sincere but the laugh you let out was not.

“Don’t all men,” he swore, and you laughed again, “Yet you foil my plan to make you fall in love with me and whisk me away to the moon.”

He laughed, but his eyes darkened with deep sadness you were sure you would never understand, “I think we both no that even I could not do that, but I might be able to crush your fly.”

“Little boyfriend? Fly? You really don’t like him do you?” you laughed, head lighter already.

“I don’t like any man who thinks they can hurt women,” he said, frowning when he realised through your passing back and forth there was no wine left.

“Shit that took us like five minutes,” you complained, and he laughed, waving his hand lightly as several more bottles appeared before you – you grinned as you grabbed another.

“So any friends with weaker moral backbones that I could marry?” you asked with a laugh, and he smiled at you.

“I’m sure I could find someone,” he leaned back again. You smiled – finally happy that one night might pass in the company of a decent man.

Soon, you’d find it would be more than one night, a close friendship quickly blossoming between you and the high lord. All your friends were convinced you were sleeping together but true to his word he didn’t touch you, and by the time you surpassed the age of eighteen you didn’t want him to. But that didn’t stop other men.

After a particularly bad argument with your boyfriend that had left you with a handprint on your left cheek you had broken up with him – sending away his apologies and flowers, smart enough to see he didn’t hold the mental capacity to change.

Plus you were beautiful and young, you could certainly do better. And you soon did – rich men who liked to buy you jewellery, and fine clothes, men who enjoyed literature and art and spending time with you.

And at the start of each relationship, for a few blissful seconds you would believe in their pure intentions. But then a hand would drift from your lower back to your ass, or the gentle kiss that followed a necklace would shift from your mouth to your breasts. Not one of them wanted to wait until you were comfortable, so you made yourself comfortable.

You pictured pretty, strong men were holding you down and making you feel something, slipping your own hand between your legs and they penetrated you to try and replicate what you were sure a lover’s touch must feel like. And as always – after the first time- they stopped asking for permission, you were their toy, so you no longer had choice over that part of yourself.

But through nice guys and bad boys, for fifty years you had Rhysand who was a friend – who treated you with respect and finally let you talk, let you breathe.

In the end he was the one who found you, in the backroom of a party – drunk and undressed. You were weeping, curled in a ball with your attackers’ seed dripping out of you, bruises decorating your bare skin. When he turned you over with his comforting hands he found your nose dripping red and the vibrant lipstick you wore smudged.

He helped you sit up and redress, took you home and stood outside the bathroom while you scrubbed yourself clean in scalding water – still unsteady on your feet. You changed into a nightgown silently and neither of you said a word when you crawled into bed next to each other, crying in your best friends’ arms as he tried to console you.

When you woke up, he was gone with just a scribbled message about Amarantha and the name of a healer he trusted. But you just placed it back down, turning onto your back and staring at the ceiling as hot tears ran into your hairline.

You barely ate anything for the days following your assault – fighting with your mother more when you rarely saw her and subsequently breaking it off with your current boyfriend. You had thrown his hands off you when he tried to touch you and the screaming match that followed ended your relationship.

Your bond with Rhysand grew only closer however as you spent nights drinking in candlelight, talking about anything and everything until you were sure he knew every inch of your soul and you his.

“You know what I’m going to do as soon as she’s gone,” you whispered one night as you stared at the twinkling lights you had hung on your bedroom roof to imitate stars.

“What?” Rhys had asked, never letting his eyes leave the ‘stars’ which he had laughed at and then proceeded to rearrange to make them more accurate. To which you threw a pillow at his head.

“Find a hill, or a pier, or a large pit or anything and scream into it until my throat bleeds.” You said and he laughed, the bed beneath you rumbling.

“Consider me on board.” He joked as you sat up to perch at your vanity – smudging the sharp eyeliner you wore with a small brush and applying some red lipstick.

“Wanna go out?” you asked him, and he sat up to with a small, sad smile.

“Can’t.” you understood his implication and frowned.

“I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t gutted me yet,” you tried to lighten the mood, but his face darkened slightly when he joked back.

“Oh she wants to, I’m telling her any information you give me about citizens, so she doesn’t.” He said, ruffling your hair as he stood to leave.

“That’s fair, I’ll keep an ear out,” you smiled, squeezing his hand gently before he left.

Things changed when Feyre Archeron appeared, you saw the way your friend watched her and realised you might be competing for his attention soon, but you were happy for him. Until he brought her to that first party – drugged and barely dressed. You felt the bile rise in your throat as you pushed down memories of yourself in such a similar position, and while you knew he would never hurt her – he was still a man. And you were foolish to believe for all those years that he was a man who would realise this was wrong.

Making polite excuses you left the party, picking up the tails of your dress as you all but raced home – ditching the dress and closing the blinds tightly as you made yourself food in your underwear. The sick feeling in your throat spreading through your chest and stomach as you ate, abandoning your meal halfway for a book and large sweater. And when he knocked on your door that night, desperate to tell you all about her – all about the human girl who he was sure could be his mate, you pretended to be asleep.

You barely spoke to him the whole time she was there, unable to look him in the eyes when she was so clearly out of it – and the feeling only grew when the next morning she would have all eyes on her. You understood that feeling. You instead spent parties flirting with Tarquin, the young high lord who was only a few years your senior or warding off marriage invitations with laughs and carefully placed words.

Rhys would sometimes catch your eyes – furrowing his eyebrows at you when you avoided his gaze, the sick feeling never really leaving. But it wasn’t until you watched Tamlin slay Amarantha with a smile that he tried to speak to you again. Feyre was Fae and leaving with her betrothed and Rhysand had just confirmed they were mates – and never had he needed his best friend quiet like he did now.

You were sitting when he found you, head in your palms and blood dusting the skirts of your dress. You had been sitting near Amarantha when it happened. You looked up when he neared, smiling sadly as he sat next to you.

“Want to go home?” he asked you quietly and you scoffed, standing, and moving to leave quickly. He followed after you, grabbing your arm as you wrenched it out of his grip with more ferocity than he had ever seen from you.

“Don’t touch me,” he held his hands up, backing away to give you space as you got your breathing under control.

“What did I do?” he asked – smart enough to not presume anything.

“How could you think it was okay, after what happened?” your voice was quiet again, and so sad.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he implored, stepping slightly closer again. You raised your eyes to meet his and he understood, the darkness you carried in your eyes shining through – the memories that resurfaced in those dark moments. “I’m sorry, let me explain please.”

You let him hold your arm softly as he winnowed the two of you to your house where you sat down heavy and tired.

“I did it because she needed out of that cell, but I saw what they did to you and you’re a fae woman, she’s… she was human. So it meant that no one else would touch her.” He tried to explain, “And she wouldn’t want to remember.”

“That’s a horrible thing to do Rhys.” You stated and he hung his head low, “How in anyway was that helping her, to get her out you could’ve snuck her here or just take her to a ball and let her dress normally.”

“I’m sorry, I just knew this would’ve been the safest option,” he grabbed your hand again and squeezed it like he did all those years ago, “It’s over, we can go home.”

“I am home,” you laughed bitterly, gesturing to your house.

“No, you’re coming out of this city – we’re putting it behind us.” He stood and held out a hand.

“I know you’re trying to be dramatic and all, but I have to pack – and think.” You said and he laughed.

“Take your time,” he said, sitting back to wait for you, “And I know it might take you a while to forgive me, but I’ll wait.”

You had left soon after, as he revealed his city to you. Winnowing to a house where two beautiful women stood at the door, strong winged men appearing next to them almost instantly – all sharing the same tear-eyed look. Well, all asides from a short, dark-haired woman who simply smiled.

The men you presumed were Azriel and Cassian barrelled towards Rhysand, attacking him in the most violent hug you had ever witnessed. Mor followed soon after and Amren simply offered him a curt nod, to which he bowed slightly with a cheeky smile.

Cassian turned to look at you and everyone followed suit, you straightened up – not wanting to cower under their gazes.

“And this, this is (y/n).” Rhysand said, placing a hand on your elbow, “She’s the only reason I survived under the mountain.”

You smiled at him, annoyed still – but you still held so much love for him in your heart. You looked away when Cassian approached and wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly.

When he released you he looked you dead in the eye, “I am forever in your service.”

“Cassian let go of the poor girl,” Mor exclaimed behind him, and you giggled, looking to Rhys for support.

“Forgot to tell you he’s a hugger,” he shrugged, and you shoved his shoulder.

“Oh did you!” you laughed.

“Gotta get used to it, you’re part of the team now,” Cassian slung an arm around your shoulder as he guided you inside, “which means lots of hugs and long talks about emotions.”

“Don’t steal my best friend Cassian,” Rhys jabbed at his brother as you all moved to sit inside around a long table.

“He already had I’m afraid, can’t reverse love like ours,” you joined in, patting Cassian’s hand as he punched the air in victory, Rhysand feigning pain as he dramatically collapsed into his chair – a hand over his heart.

When you were finally seated you caught Azriel’s gaze, his eyes locked on you – having watched you interact with his family for less than five minutes and already completely enamoured. You smiled softly when you caught his gaze and he grinned at you, no words passing.

Later that evening – after too many drinks, you found yourself alone on a balcony you found, drinking in the fresh air greedily after all those years underground. You didn’t realise he was there until he was next to you – silent on his feet, his shadows a cool chill passing over your shoulders.

You tilted your head to look at him, in awe of his beauty. Not even Rhysand had awed you as much as this man was, his beauty unparalleled by anyone you had met before. He turned his gaze down to you as well, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you as he watched you move with such elegant curiosity.

“We haven’t had the pleasure of being formally introduced,” you smiled, lifting your hand delicately, “I’m (y/n).”

He met your hand halfway, lifting it to his mouth with perfectly poised and trained grace. “Azriel,” his voice was deep, gruff – and sent chills through you quickly. But when he moved your hand from his mouth you held on, the sparks flowing through you telling you all you needed to know. He similarly made no move to let go.

“Are we? I don’t really know how any of this works,” you laughed nervously but he smiled so warmly and tugged you slightly closer to him with the hand you were still clutching.

“You’re my mate princess,” he said, voice rough from disuse. You smiled widely, eyes forming tears as your gaze never strayed from him – finally getting one person who would truly love you, not your body – but you. He tugged your hand gently and you followed him inside, smiling and love drunk.

“We should probably go to the house of wind,” his voice was quiet as you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“Me and Cassian have to share a room here, the bed are singles.” You smiled and laughed – irrevocably happy.

“Yeah maybe not,” you said, and he held your hand softly as he walked you to the front door, passed his past out friends, Rhys cracking an eye open when you walked past him, and you turned when he tugged your skirt gently.

You okay? He asked in your mind, and you smiled at him.

I’m perfect, why? You replied as he closed his eyes again, clearly too tired to hold them open - Azriel moving to retrieve your coats.

Just don’t feel pressured into doing anything you’re not ready for, Azriel is understanding he won’t get angry. A sort of cold feeling settled on your shoulders when you realised why Azriel wanted that extra privacy.

Shit forgot I had to do that you joked but Rhysand felt the stress growing, however before he could reply Azriel was by your side again and you were waving him goodbye, your smile tight lipped.

Honestly, you trusted Rhysand when he said that Azriel would understand – but so far you had yet to meet a man who truly respected the boundaries you set, a man who would truly wait. Azriel met your eyes in silent questions before scooping you into his arms, flying high above the house as you squealed in his arms, clinging tightly to his neck, and shutting your eyes tightly as you soared above the vibrant city.

He felt you tense as you neared the house, swooping lower in order to land on the large balcony attached to his room. He placed you on shaky legs gently and looked down to smile at you again – heart so full of love and peace.

Not only was his brother returned to him in one piece, but along beside him came you. His mate. His mate.

You caught his gaze and gave him a tight-lipped smile, terrified for history to repeat itself. You wanted to talk to him and know him – you didn’t want him to learn to love your body instead of you. And you were truly afraid to be touched again, you hadn’t been with a man since you were raped – fear stopping you before they could get close and walls slamming up if they tried.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice was dripping with concern – genuine concern, and the way he said it made tears well up in your eyes. His own instantly widened as he sensed the sadness and fear rolling of you in waves, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you sobbed into his chest. “Oh sweetheart we don’t have to do anything, c’mon lets go sit down.”

He guided you through the glass doors and sat you down gently on the bed, holding you gently and coaxing you through your breakdown. Once your breathing had calmed slightly and you had pulled out of his embrace, wiping your tears harshly with the butt of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered quietly, terrified to anger your mate when you’ve only just found him.

“It’s okay darling, what’s wrong – did I do something? You’re not terrified of heights are you?” he asked, and you laughed softly, a smile growing on his face as his worries eased slightly.

“No, that was fun,” he grabbed your hand in his scarred ones and you gripped it tightly.

“Then what was it?” you looked into those beautiful, worried eyes and let out an exhale – bottom lip quivering.

“I just don’t think I can – I can’t do that tonight.” You whispered the words lowly, afraid of his reaction as you clung like a child to his hand.

“Hey, that’s okay – we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” he smiled, worries easing. You still wanted to be with him, just not in that way yet – and he could wait. He would wait a million years if you asked.

“Even if I’m not ready for a while?” You asked, and he held your face in his hands gently – looking into your tear-filled, defeated eyes.

“I would wait forever and then some – I have already waited so long to meet you, I’m sure I can last longer, especially if you’re next to me.” Your smile was so sad when you met his eyes.

“I’ve been told that before,” Azriel just pulled you closer to him with a cheeky grin.

“And were any of them your mate?”

“No,” you smiled at him again and he thought his heart was going to combust.

“Well then, I love to prove people wrong.” You buried your head into his chest as his arms came around you once more, “Would you like to sleep here, or would you like your own room?”

“Here is fine, I like the way you make me feel,” you said quietly, tugging on the bond experimentally. Azriel just smiled and tugged back.

“That works for me, I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He moved to stand but you stopped him – tugging on the dress shirt he wore.

“I want this,” you grinned cheekily up at him, and he laughed, but undid the buttons and pulled it off anyway – turning around to let you change in peace. When he turned back around you were looking up at him with wide eyes – looking impossibly cute in his shirt.

“It has holes in the back,” you complained, and he laughed, sitting down to tug off his trousers before sliding under the covers as you scrambled to lay in his arms.

“Well I do have wings,” he cemented his point by letting one drape over your shoulders as you sighed in content.

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” you deadpanned quietly, burrowed deep under his arms and the covers. His chest rumbled with the silent laugh as he pressed a kiss into your hairline.

The next morning he awoke to you laying on his chest, tracing the scars on the backs of his hands with a delicately pointed finger. He stared in wonder, and you must have felt his gaze because you turned your head to meet his eyes, face still puffy from sleep. As you whispered to him that morning, your chin resting on his chest as you gazed up at him until he rose to get your morning drinks. Barely daring to leave for more than a few seconds. And when he returned he was so glad he did – welcoming the sight of you curled up under his sheets with a shy smile and tired eyes.

“Do we have to do anything today?” you asked as you sipped your drink slowly, Azriel’s’ arm tight and secure around your waist.

“Nope,” he said, delighted at the prospect, “I just want to be with you and my family.”

“Sounds heavenly.”

True to his word, for the next few weeks that past, you and Azriel didn’t progress past slow, occasional kisses and lingering touches. But before either of those he was always searching your eyes – asking permission. And you truly fell in love with him during those weeks.

He was caring and consistent – never promising anything he couldn’t bring. And he cared for you, he cared for you past your body and looks. He wanted to be with you for an eternity.

One night, while you lay together, speaking lowly and listening to the rain fall outside your room – a glass door cracked open, you decided you were ready. You pressed closer to him, your lips meeting his own in a kiss more passionate than you had previously shared.

He followed your lead with just as much passion, but when you crawled into his lap he pulled away slightly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you,” he asked quietly, hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I’m sure, I love you and I want to be with you.” You told him sincerely, “But I haven’t been with anyone in a few years so I’m a little out of practice.”

You giggled nervously but he furrowed his eyebrows, “But you told me about your boyfriends?”

“Yeah but I – stopped dating about five years ago.” You tried to explain quickly, old nerves being brought up, but Azriel pulled you closer and as always his touch calmed you.

“Can I ask why?” he watched you drop your head a little as you breathed slowly – determined to not let your fear rise, you would probably end up telling him anyway so you might as well get it over with.

“I was raped.” You stated and his grip on your hips tightened slightly as he swore.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” he started but you stopped him with a sharp glaze.

“You don’t need to apologise, it happened and it’s over now.” He could practically feel you pull away, so he loosened his grip on your hips and instead brought his arms up to hold you against his chest.

“Who did it?” he asked, voice dark and dangerous. You muttered a name lowly – under your breath – and he pocketed in the darkest corners of his mind for later. His shadows itching to tear the man apart.

“Look (y/n), if you’re ready I am more than happy to oblige but I need to know you’re really ready, I will wait as long as you need.” You pulled away from his chest and kissed him gently.

“I’m ready, I trust you,” he smiled up at you from where you perched on his lap and you giggled and he flipped you over, laying between your legs with a feral grin.

He made you cum three times with his mouth and those beautiful, beautiful hands alone – more than you had ever experienced with a man and he hadn’t even received any pleasure yet. Except from the pleasure of watching his perfect mate fall apart on his sheets, over and over.

And when he lay over you, your legs pushed up and wrapped around his waist, and his forearms on either side of your head – he would later swear he had never felt more complete.

“I’m here with you remember, will be the whole time.” He assured you, voice soft as he lined himself up and you smiled.

“I love you so much,” you whispered, and he pushed in slowly, filling every part of you and pushing against every spot you didn’t know you had. You swore under your breath when he bottomed out, the slight pain quickly being reduced to please as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good,” you felt shivers run through your body at his gruff voice and smiled, moaning when he began to move.

He pulled his head from where it hid in your neck and watched as you closed your eyes – head thrown back with a smile – and his hips bucked, desperately trying to control himself as he watched you arch your back.

“Shit Az, you’re so big,” you moaned loudly, unaware of the trance you had pulled your mate into.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered with a harsh thrust, a hand coming to stroke down your face as you opened your eyes to meet his, “So perfect.”

You felt as if your heart was going to burst from the love that filled it as you reached up to kiss him softly – conveying every word, every thought, through that kiss. When you pulled away you were nearing your end, the sensations building in you without the need of a fantasy or your own hand.

You moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly as one hand instinctively moved to stroke down his wing. He shuddered above you with a loud groan – his thrusts speeding up as he to neared release, yours hips surely bruising from the force of his own.

“C’mon baby, need to feel you, need to know you’re mine.” His words ignited something in your stomach, and you clung tighter to him, kissing his sharp jaw as you smiled.

“I’m yours Azriel, now and forever.” Your gentle words pushed him over the edge and his skilful fingers dipping between your thighs brought you down with him. The two of you crying out at the sensations you shared as a growing need to never let him go consumed you.

He collapsed on top of you soon after and he intertwined your fingers with his own as your breathing evened out. He slipped out of you, and you smiled up at him as he sat up, rolling off your body and laying to the side while you came to rest your head on his firm chest. He brought his spare hand upwards – twirling strands of your hair slightly as you rested in silence. After a few minutes, you clambered into his lap and kissed him firmly as he pulled you impossibly close.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt his heart swell with gratitude to the world for giving him an angel that would willingly hold his hand and guide him out of the darkness.

“I am so in love with you,” he whispered back, and you giggled, a hand moving slowly to stroke him as you felt him harden beneath you again.

“Hmm, is that so?” you whispered.

Azriel, who had started pressing light kisses into your neck, nipped you gently, making you squeal, “What were you saying darling?”

“That I am also deeply, and unequivocally in love with you.” You replied and he rolled his eyes.

“Just putting me to shame with your big words.” He muttered and you giggled – crawling down his body.

“I’m sure I could make it up to you.”

#acofas #acotar #azriel #acomaf #azriel x reader #acowar #acofs #acosf

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bratkook · 3 years

Text

eleven months. (m) myg. one.

masterlist.

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: fluff, slow burn!!!, eventual smut, warnings: none this chapter. word count: 2.8k author’s note: this chapter is on the shorter side, just diving into them meeting and giving you all a small glimpse into them as individuals! im really excited for this story so let me know what you think, feel free to scream about anything in my inbox bye ily lmao summary: it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what’s coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

Yoongi loves the rain, really he does. The way the clouds gloom over the city, encompassing it in this darkness that reminds him of underexposed film. He wishes he could always see the world through this filter, always smell the scent of wet soil and tarmac as he makes his way through the streets. Something about hearing the soft patter hitting the sidewalk, bouncing off the rooftops and dripping from the gutters calms him. A soft smile spreads across his face as he exhales the smoke in his lungs, letting the stick hang loosely off his lips while his hands clutch onto his umbrella.

When he stomps his foot into a wide puddle, the cold water splashes up onto his ankle and he grimaces. He hates being caught in the middle of rain. It didn’t matter if he had his umbrella or not, or if he managed to bundle enough for the downpour, he hates stepping into puddles and getting his socks wet. Hates how some of the raindrops that slipped under his umbrella—since it was now raining sideways—have managed to make his cigarette slightly soggy.

Pulling the cigarette out of his mouth this time, he holds it in front of his face with a frown. It was halfway done but no longer burning properly due to how wet it had become.

What a waste.

As he passes a trash can, he stubs it out fully and tosses it inside, a small pout on his face at the loss of something to fidget with. But then he sees the glowing sign inching closer, the bright neon yellow standing out in the grim weather. The illuminated Rkive360 in the distance stops him from slipping out another smoke, choosing to stuff his unoccupied hand into the pocket of his jeans, moving his legs a little faster to get to his destination.

The bell at the top of the door jingles as he stumbles in, his foot tripping over the small lip of the mat by the door. That was a safety hazard he’d playfully bitch to Namjoon about later.

“Yoongi, hey!” When he balances out, closing his umbrella and giving it a good shake by the door, he looks up and grins at Taehyung. He spots him standing by a flat spread of clothes a few feet away, folding out some new items as he stares at Yoongi with a genuine smile. His curls flop over his eyes and Yoongi chuckles to himself as he wonders how a guy like him was here folding shirts when he should probably be the face of Gucci or something.

Well, that’s life.

“Hey man,” Yoongi mumbles out, his eyes catching the plastic bin beside the door that’s labeled ‘umbrellas here’ in a messy scribble he can only attribute to Taehyung. Not needing to be told twice, he sticks his dripping umbrella upside down into it and shuffles inside the shop, taking a minute to look around like he always did.

Record stores have always been his safe space, even as a teenager. The amount of time spent in one after school, loitering inside with his friends as he sorted through the racks of CDs and vinyl, exiting with his bag of new goodies that left him excited to get home and play them. It was god sent that his best friend decided to open up his own place years ago, keeping it fully stocked with anything he could imagine. Maybe Yoongi was a little biased, but this was definitely the best shop in the country.

It’s a welcoming place, pops of color in every corner, tall standing sculptures mixed in with displays of music, autographed albums and posters framed onto the wall behind the counter. It’s the full embodiment of his best friend, down to the tiny KAWS figurines perched beside the register and the music playing through the speakers. The small melody in the background fills his ears once the door is shut, recognizing the song playing as Dang! by Mac Miller and he bobs along as he approaches Taehyung.

“Quick question,” he starts, his hands coming up to shake at his gray hair that was slightly damp from the rain. Taehyung sets the shirt down, resting both of his palms on the table as he leans towards Yoongi with interest. “Any chance you guys miraculously got Seventeen Seconds in your stock this week?”

Taehyung hums in thought, his brows furrowing together as he tries to mentally sort through the massive boxes of new vinyl Namjoon had brought in a few days ago. New shipment comes once a week but every now and then Namjoon goes out of his way to find specific records, never missing with his selection.

A small flash of blurry trees crosses his mind and then he's smiling at him. “Yeah, we actually got it the other day. Pretty sure Namjoon hunted it down for you since you’ve been asking. It should be in the back.” His thumb points behind him, towards the display tables that held all the LP’s available at the store, a very familiar spot.

Yoongi mumbles out a thanks as he makes his way over, eyes already locked onto the bin that he knew would hold his prized possession. It’s not until he gets a few feet closer that he sees your crouched frame over a box, figure slightly hidden by a giant CD rack. You’re rummaging through the records, almost making him flinch when you quickly stand back up and find their proper spot in the display. You don’t notice him approaching until he’s right beside you, eyes once again glued to the bins lined in alphabetical order once the initial shock of another person subsided.

That’s when you give him a glance, sending him a soft smile as you slip the record in its rightful spot, crouching back down to grab the next bunch. His hand pauses on the edge of the bin at the glimpse of something familiar, momentarily distracted by your shirt. When you stand back up, feeling him staring at you, you slowly turn to face him once more with your eyebrows raised up in question.

He takes note of the tag clipped to your shirt, it reads Sana but he’s used to dealing with Sana and you are definitely not her. You’re new.

The smile remains on your lips as you rest your hip against the edge of the table holding up the record bins, preparing to put your best customer service voice to use. His eyes glance at the writing on your shirt again, cracking a grin when he confirms it's a New Order shirt tucked into your black jeans. “You like New Order?”

Your smile falters slightly, your arms crossing in front of you as you narrow your eyes at him in defense, not entirely sure how to take his tone. “If you’re about to ask me to name five of their songs I’ll have to walk away to avoid getting fired.”

His smile widens at that, soft and gummy, breaking his cold appearance as his arms raise up in front of him in surrender. “No, just an observation.”

Your demeanor softens again, your arms sagging back down to your sides and smiling once more. “Good, it's my first day on the job and I’d really like to keep it.”

Yoongi chuckles softly, going back to his searching for his precious album, leaning over the third bin dedicated to bands starting with the letter C. His nimble fingers flip through the LPs until he gets to the Cure, sorting through Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me, passing Pornography until he reaches Wish and his brows furrow, flicking back and forth as if the album he wanted would magically appear.

“Need help finding something?” You speak up again when you take note of him sorting through the same chunk of vinyl. He grunts lightly, letting the stack slant back in a heap as he purses his lips.

“Yeah actually, Taehyung said you guys got the album Seventeen Seconds but I don’t see it.

You step back from reorganizing the bin labeled S, trying to remember if you had brought the record out or if it was still sitting in the second box ready to be unpacked. Your brain was already overwhelmed from all of the information you had been given on your first day, trying to unscramble the entire backroom and it’s countless boxes—most of which were unlabeled because Taehyung said it’s not necessary since he knows where everything is.

Much like Taehyung, you recall seeing a flash of the album cover when you sorted through the new box of records, knowing exactly where it was tucked away since you had been the one to store it. You were under strict orders to not put it out on the floor, because according to Namjoon, if someone else took this album you’d be attending his funeral.

“Oh, uh gimme a sec.” You shuffle away, leaving him behind as you approach Taehyung, still folding away. “Hey, Tae?”

He hums in question, turning to stare at you with a small smile. “Whats up?”

“That guy is asking for Seventeen Seconds but Namjoon told me he’d be murdered if I gave this out to anyone.”

Taehyung starts laughing instantly, setting the shirt down as he stares at a confused looking Yoongi still standing by the LP’s. “Yeah, he was saving it for him specifically.”

“Got it, okay. Thanks.” You make a beeline back to the tables at the back, passing Yoongi with a polite smile. “Be right back!” you exclaim, wagging your finger at him as you make your way towards the back room, clearly on a mission.

Yoongi just stands there as you enter the employee stock room, not trying to cross any professional lines and follow you since you have no idea who he is. It's only a few feet away and you left the door propped open so when a few minutes pass and he hears rustling, followed by a heavy sounding thud and some curse words, he can’t help but wander over and peak his head in.

“You okay?” he asks, leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his face when he sees the way you’re frozen, one foot on the ledge of the shelf and the other on a not so sturdy looking stool, caught in the act of a poorly made decision. Below you lay two brown boxes that carry shirts you’re meant to unpack later, definitely the cause of the loud thud he had heard.

“Yep,” you confirm as you pluck out the record you need, shoving the box back into its safe spot and hopping down haphazardly. “Here you go.”

Grabbing the record carefully, he flips it over to skim the track list and smiles widely when he looks back up at you. That familiar warmth fills his chest as he holds the new item, making him feel the same way he had as a teenager when he bought his first LP. He had been searching for this vinyl for months now. It wasn’t as if it was no longer in production, he just couldn’t seem to find it in stock anywhere he looked and buying it internationally was the last resort he would take since the shipping fees were downright illegal. “Thanks.”

You’re already hunched down on the floor as you open up one of the boxes that had fallen in your haste to scale the shelves, deciding to just unpack in now since you were here.

“Yeah, no problem. Tae can ring you up at the front.” Sending him off with a smile and a wave, he takes that as his cue to exit, making his way to the front again.

When he leaves the backroom you flop onto your butt with a huff, your legs sprawling out with the second box in between them. You were hoping your words didn’t come across as rude to him but you couldn’t take the way his sharp eyes stared at you. Had he lingered any longer you would have embarrassed yourself, it was a miracle your footing hadn’t slipped on your way down from the shelves. You can’t imagine your ego being able to recover from a tumble like that.

Taehyung spots Yoongi leaning against the front counter, setting the final shirt down and going to stand behind it with a smile. “Did you find everything okay?” he asks automatically, the general phrases they had to use coming out without a thought and Yoongi scoffs, sliding the record across the counter and nodding.

“Of course I did, you let Namjoon know that I said your customer service is unmatched.” His finger gently rubs against the first black KAWS figurine, smiling at the remaining four as he remembers how Namjoon had excitedly told him that this was their friend group, representing them all perfectly.

Taehyung grins with a roll of his eyes, scanning the album and slipping it into the brown paper bag they provided. “Wonderful. Your total is 40,000 won.”

“Wow, your customer service voice is phenomenal.”

Taehyung laughs now, his nose crinkling up at Yoongi's sarcastic tone, watching how Yoongi grins back at him, succeeding in getting him to crack. “Fuck you, man.”

“Ah, there he is.” Yoongi hums with a chuckle as he pulls out his wallet, sorting through his bills and handing them to Taehyung. “Who’s New Order girl?”

Tae raises his brows as he enters the amount into the POS, the drawer popping open against his hips. “Oh, Y/N?” Yoongi only shrugs, you had Sana’s name tag on so how the hell should he know.

Taehyung stuffs the money into the drawer and slams it shut, ripping off the receipt from the machine and slipping it into the bag. “She just started today, can’t remember where she moved from, some place far though.” He shrugs as he hands the bag over to Yoongi.

The older boy ruffles his damp hair up, accepting the bag with his right hand. “Oh, cool. Well thanks, I’ll see you guys later then?” Taehyung just waves him off with a smile, similar to the way you did and he laughs to himself when he realizes Taehyung must be the one in charge of training you.

As he approaches the front door he pulls out his pack of cigarettes once more, sliding one out and slipping it between his lips. He finds himself looking towards the back of the shop again, seeing you resuming your organization, but your head lifts up as you feel him staring at you from his spot at the door. The spark of his lighter flashes across his face when he lights up his smoke, opening his umbrella once more now that he's partially outside. When your eyes meet, he smiles around the stick, giving you a nod before turning and walking back out into the rain.

You watch as his figure disappears down the street, his dark silhouette blending in with the rest of the people roaming the city, and when you can no longer see him through the store window you turn towards Taehyung. He’s stood at the POS, fidgeting with the screen, but when you call his name he glances up at you. “Is he a regular?”

He nods in response, eyes going back to stare at the screen as he begins to print out a sheet to fulfill the online orders the store received. “Yeah, he comes in at least once a week. Buys strictly vinyl. I think Namjoon mentioned he’s a music producer, or maybe it was a DJ, I can’t remember.”

Taehyung evidently doesn’t have the best memory, that much had been made clear in the short span you’ve known him. He had forgotten your name twice during your interview, Namjoon having to subtly repeat it for him, he had also asked you three times where you were from and at first you thought he was joking but when his face remained serious you realized he had really forgotten already.

“Hey, where’d you move from again?” he asks one more, genuinely curious as if you hadn’t told him a handful of times already.

“I told you, Iceland.” It’s a lie, but when he hums in thought—pretending to suddenly remember—you chuckle at the newfound way to mess with him.

He’s quick to start questioning you about Iceland, nodding along to the lies you spill while you both go back to your tasks of sorting albums and folding shirts. It makes your first full shift eventful, passing jokes back and forth as the sky grows gloomier. As distracting as your conversations get, you can’t help but glance up through the windows whenever a dark clad figure walks by, the thought of the sharp eyed stranger lingering in your mind.

#min yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #bts fics #bts imagines #new #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #heartsforbts #bangtaninn #btscreatorscorner

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soukokuwu · 4 years

Note

what if chu's s/o escapes port mafia, leaving chuuya to think she left him like dazai did (but in reality, she was pregnant & didn't want the child to grow up in PM. though she has taken extra measures so her son will not be endangered, PM still managed to kidnap him and hold him hostage in exchange for her to come back to their ranks. it is when she comes to save their son that chu discovers that the child is his. you do your own take if you want, your writing, your choice! 💓💓

HIGH RISK, HIGH REWARDS. genre. hmmm,, i guess it’s fluffy synopsis. you reveal a secret you’ve kept to yourself for so long, it’s time you finally come clean. word count. 2,680 author notes. hi, thank you this was an interesting request, i tried not to make it too long. & i usually don’t put so much dialogue (if at all XD) so i hope you can still enjoy this <33

PRESENT.

“Boss, the VIPs are here to see you, they’re being held down at the lobby. Do you want to send them up here?”

The chair swirls around, revealing the man behind the table, a picture of perfect composure. A curt nod is all it takes for the goon to leave the room, ready to escort the guests up.

Once the doors are closed again, he puts the cigarette out on his ashtray, exhaling that last puff of smoke. Gloved fingers intertwine together as he ponders long and hard about how he should greet them later.

The man eyes the drawer under his table, the bottom leftmost one — the special drawer. He opens it languidly to unveil a stash of letters, too many to count at one glance. That’s not surprising though. After all, it’s twelve years’ worth of letters. He grabs the top one, beady eyes glossing over its contents. He folds it back along the same lines.

They all look the same. Made out to him, but with no return address.

TWELVE YEARS AGO.

“They found someone at the house. We have him right now.”

The man on the other line seems to still have something to say, but the redhead doesn’t allow him. It’s a matter that can’t wait.

“Keep him there, make sure he doesn’t leave.”

Chuuya leaves the rest of the torturing to his colleagues as he exits the premises. He recalls what his subordinate reported earlier. ‘Him’? He scoffs. It’s been six years since you left the mafia and basically vanished into thin air. Which is a considerably long time, but Chuuya still can’t wrap the possibility around there being a new guy in your life.

Besides, the redhead didn’t do anything wrong. Why did you have to leave without a word? Why did you feel the need to leave at all, even? It couldn’t be stress. No way. You worked at the Port Mafia casino, yes. You were in charge of it all, and it did anything but stress you out. You loved working there. You loved the gamble. You absolutely revelled in the risk.

They put you in charge of the casino for more reasons than one. You were very calculative, very meticulous. You always had your moves planned out beforehand and you were always able to tell your opponents’ hand without even having to cheat. The gambling was definitely one of the reasons why you were so good at manipulating people. It was also one of the reasons why even Mori asked for your help in some cases.

But your best quality as a mafioso?

Your unpredictability. Or, as Mori dubbed it, your insanity. In both gambling and in general. You had helped the mafia win favours over more than just a few officials by winning against them — be it in poker or any other games. You weren’t even below playing russian roulette. Sure, Chuuya had been worried at first, but after a while it was pretty clear you’d always make it out of it safe — was it luck or was it pure calculation, or a mixture of both perhaps? Chuuya doesn’t really question it. And when it came to planning missions, your unconventional methods always helped, because no one would ever see it coming.

That blew up in his face though. You left him without any clues pertaining to your whereabouts or why you left in the first place. He thought you left along with his ex-partner, that maybe it had something to do with him. But it was apparent that wasn’t the case. Not when you didn’t surface at all even when Dazai did. He couldn’t help but keep thinking of potential things that happened to you. Did you leave because you met someone else? Doubtful. But given how long it’s been, it’s certainly not out of the question that you already did meet someone else by now.

You’re beautiful, smart, fun. You’re everything anyone could wish for. You’re so understanding that sometimes Chuuya questions where you get your patience from. You were just perfect, in every sense of the word.

Chuuya groans just thinking of everything. Even after being kicked to the curb, why is it that now he is still attracted to you? Lucky he was, though. Because that’s the only reason he agreed with Mori’s plan to put all efforts into seeking you out. You were incredibly elusive, and a pain in the ass because of that. And had it not been for a certain intense war against an enemy organisation, they would’ve let you go on with your life, wherever you ended up. You’ve been very quiet, not spreading anything about the mafia, or else Mori would’ve picked up on it. Very well-behaved, and a pardon would’ve been your reward.

But even the best needs help sometimes. And Mori specifically wants yours. He probably figured Chuuya was the biggest factor that would tilt things in their favour, and he agrees. Which is why he heads this mission in the first place. Not only is he the biggest shot at getting you back, but he wants to see you. Wants to know exactly why you left him the way you did.

Closure. He wants closure.

Life is funny though. Because he ends up with more questions than answers when he opens the door to his office.

Suddenly all the idle chatter he passes by in the hallway makes sense. The ones that just skip past his ears because he’s too deep in thought about you. He remembers the gist of them though. Things like “he’s so cute, like a model,” and “right? I think he looks handsome” (to which Chuuya was slightly annoyed by because he thought it was referring to your new beau).

But no, he wasn’t greeted with a man. He opened his doors to find a boy with eyes as blue as the ocean sitting on his desk, fiddling with his pens. Eyes that remind him of the exact shade he looks at in the mirror everyday. Chuuya hurriedly shuts the door, locks it, and steps hesitantly toward the boy.

This boy… looks roughly about six years old. And Chuuya feels his breath hitching in his throat. That’s around the time you went missing. He feels everything closing in around him, the fear of why you left him finally being made clear to him.

Weirdly enough, the boy isn’t the tiniest bit scared. His head is tilted, fingers still fiddling with Chuuya’s fountain pen, and waiting for Chuuya to reach him. He blinks his little eyes, before finally smiling up at him after a while. He opens his mouth, a simple word leaving his delicate lips.

“Daddy!”

Chuuya isn’t even allowed a further minute to process it before he hears knocking on the ceiling and someone falls through the vent onto the floor; one with an all-too-familiar figure. And who flashes an all-too-familiar grin.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Half an hour later Chuuya finds himself struggling to process all the information you’ve unloaded on him. He observes as his son draws on a random piece of paper he’s found lying around, in the other side of the room.

“You let them think they’ve captured our son, when in reality you were waiting for them to?”

You nod. Chuuya internally facepalms himself. How is it that you’re able to gamble with this, too? With your — and his — son’s life on the line? You basically left him there to be abducted, knowing that they won’t do anything without Chuuya’s permission (who’s to say he wouldn’t have allowed them to torture the kid? Well, he wouldn’t, but still…) and then sneak yourself past security and into his office, all in the hopes of letting him know he has a son?

Then again, you wouldn’t bet something like that if you didn’t believe that things would absolutely go your way. He’s been with you for so long before, he’s familiar with your moves and the way you think. Not completely, but good enough.

It was so brilliantly simple. (Also, you used to sneak into his office through the vents when your relationship was still under wraps, so it really wasn’t a surprise to him that you chose to sneak in through there now.)

“Why now, after all this time? Why tell me now?”

For a moment he catches a brief look of guilt wash over your face. You lie back on the couch on your spot next to him, and close your eyes, as though bracing for an outburst as his response.

“I didn’t want to tell you at all, at first…” you trail off, the guilt completely taking over you now. “I only came now because… I want you to get Mori off my back.”

Now Chuuya understands why.

So, you didn’t even intend to give him a chance to meet his son, let alone let him be involved in any part of your life. But you only appeared because you knew Mori would come after you, demand for your help. The only reason you showed yourself today… was to convince Chuuya to help you. Because if there’s anyone who could convince Mori to back off, Chuuya could. And you understood that all too well.

Chuuya can just laugh at himself right now. How foolish is he, to think that you came back because you still harboured feelings for him. How pathetic of him.

He can sense his expression growing grim. Not that he’ll make any attempts to conceal it. His cerulean eyes travel from his son to you. You seem a little less guilty now, though. You look… at peace, somehow.

“What makes you think I’ll do what you want?”

“Because you want to prove me wrong.”

Your answer catches him off guard, and his anger is replaced by utter confusion. You take his silence as your cue to explain.

“I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t think you’d make a good father and do what’s right for our son. Prove me wrong. Keep our son away from this. Do what a good father would and give him a chance to grow up normal.”

Chuuya scoffs. So that’s why you didn’t tell him anything. Never told him you were pregnant. Never hinted at a goodbye. You’d rather be branded a traitor like Dazai instead of having to make Chuuya choose between you and the mafia. He knows; if you set your mind on something, it’s hard to change it. And in other situations it might’ve been negotiable, but not with your baby.

You know Chuuya would never betray the mafia. That’s why you think he’d never make a good father. Because he can’t put you or the baby first. And now… Now you come with good faith. You’re trying to believe that he can learn to be a good father.

Starting with this choice.

This impossible choice.

Except not really. He knows what he’ll end up choosing anyway. You were right. If he knew you were pregnant he’d have convinced you to stay with the mafia, convinced you that he’d make sure the baby is well-protected. But then he’d be missing the point of your whole argument. You grew up in the mafia, and technically, so did he. You knew how it didn’t allow a chance at normalcy, and you didn’t want to strip your baby of that choice. You wanted your child to at least have a taste of what being normal is like, before you ultimately let them choose what they want.

Now, even if he gives an unfavourable reply, he knows you’d do anything to keep his son away from the mafia. It’s only a question of whether or not you’d have to struggle against Chuuya for it.

Silently, he stretches a hand out to you as he gets up from the couch. He can see the subtle surprise on your face. You’re impressed, aren’t you? He has on the best poker face since you’ve met him. You can’t guess what he’s thinking, this being the first of such instance since you’ve met him. He doesn’t say a thing when you ask him what he’s up to, only continuing to offer his hand to you, keeping mum.

A gamble, a risk you’d have to take. You can either take his hand and see where he leads you, which could lead to you getting your way or it could just lead to total destruction. Or, you can refuse, and then you’d have to figure a way out on your own. Which Chuuya doesn’t doubt you’d already have ingrained in your head.

But he knows you’ll choose the former. Why? It’s the only one where an inherent risk is present. Because you’d be totally in his mercy.

And that’s why you find yourself flown out of the headquarters, onto some random building’s rooftop. A perfect view of the setting sun and an even more perfect view of your old lover, striking crimson locks imitating the beauty of the orange sunset.

Looks like it paid off.

“Will you let me know where you’re staying? A child needs his father,” Chuuya asks you, your fingers intertwined in his, and you forgot just how much you missed this; him.

“And the mafia needs you.”

A swift rejection, but he’s not going to give up so easily.

“I have a right to know. He’s my son too.”

You inch closer to him and he feels like his heart is going to leap out of his chest. It’s been six years since he’s been this close to you, and he can’t believe he has to let you go again. With your son in tow, too. Without so much as a clue as to where you’re going to move to. No way to find out. Given that they only managed to find you in the first place because you wanted to be found.

“Maybe if you’re the boss or something.”

PRESENT.

Now here he is, sitting in the office, new king of the Port Mafia. And his two very important guests are making their way up here. Chuuya hurriedly puts the letters back away. They were how you communicated with him, updated him on you and your son. Though you never put any return address, so Chuuya couldn’t send one back even if he wanted to. Also, you didn’t include any photos, so Chuuya is curious how his son has turned out.

Your timing is impeccable, to choose to visit him just as he’s taken over the office. He suspects maybe you have your ways, what with the vast amount of officials you have wrapped around your finger.

But as the doors open, every other thought he has is thrown out the window. You enter first, and his face lights up, seeing those familiar pair of eyes, so warm, so inviting now. And behind you, your son, now slightly taller than you (and probably Chuuya but he refuses to think of that), greeting him with a polite nod and a smirk on his face.

A wave of understanding washes across his child’s face when he spots something hanging on the wall behind his father.

“Hey! You kept the drawing I did when I first came here!”

He had drawn the three of you together, with himself in the middle, his parents on either side of him, holding his hands and walking in a park.

Chuuya chuckles. “Of course, it was the only thing your mom let me remember you by.” He shifts his gaze over to you as your son gets the hint, moving to admire another far corner of the room.

You let yourself fall into his arms, and Chuuya hugs you tight. Because it’s taken eighteen years. A long, torturous eighteen years apart, which honestly was a run in circles, though it was a necessary one. But now finally, he can be together with you, and his son. Chuuya looks down at you with the warmest gaze you’ve ever seen, wet eyes threatening to spill with tears any moment now.

“Welcome home, my love.”

tags. @yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes @animatedarchives

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years

Text

Nsfw headcanons~ Dinger Holfield

(Not my gif)(requested by anonymous)

- Dinger is a regular ol’ horny teen boy who can’t keep his hands off you. Anytime you have the time to do something chances are he’s gonna want to do it.

- You should honestly be worried if his hands don’t drift while you’re making out. There might be something seriously wrong with him.

- Whenever you’re in bed together he’ll want some sort of physical contact. He loves it when you wrap your arms or legs around him and bring him closer, it’s one of his favorite moves for you to pull.

- Whenever you give him head he has a hard time staying still; he’ll always end up fidgeting and trying to find something to do with himself so that he doesn’t completely lose control of himself.

- More often than not he’ll occupy himself with dirty talk which he’s surprisingly good at.

- If you’ve ever just given him a blowjob; once you’re finished, he’ll laugh breathlessly and call you a seductress and a few other related things while he tries to calm himself down.

- Even though he’s kinda cocky in the bedroom he’s still really nervous about going down on you. He feels completely unprepared like ‘okay I’m... here... now what??’.

- He’s slightly embarrassed that he doesn’t know what he’s doing but he’s ready to find out whenever you’re ready to teach. He likes learning with you; it’s a fun little game for the two of you to play whenever you’re alone.

- It’s rare that you take things slow, he isn’t a slow kind of guy even when his legs broken. He just can’t help going all out the instant he gets inside you, not that you have many complaints.

- For the most part he likes being on top but he did greatly enjoy you riding him when he broke his leg.

- Missionary position is his go to, that way he can go deep and watch your “pretty little face”.

- Hickeys in hidden places.

- By the time you’re finished his lips have touched just about every inch of skin on your neck.

- Leotard kink

- You usually do it at your house or in some secret part of the school so quickies happen pretty often.

- He gets desperate pretty easily so you can get him to do what you want without much trouble although he’d probably just do it if you asked. He honestly probably likes the idea of doing something you think is hot. It makes him feel all proud and cocky.

- On the note of desperation: he’s oddly skilled at turning you on so he often returns the favor and makes you beg for things.

- Even though he rarely ever shuts the fuck up when you’re together he’s not very vocal in bed (as in moaning or grunting). The only sounds you really hear is him dirty talking; when his mouth isn’t busy, and panting.

- He loves hearing you moan or feeling your nails scraping along his back, just any sign that you are thoroughly enjoying yourself.

- I think he’d really like it if you called him baby or something similar. Dinger is just... strange to say when you’re having sex, even he feels that way.

- Quick trips to the store in the middle of the night to get condoms.

- ‘Dirty girl’, just ‘dirty girl’.

- He’s neatly trimmed and an average sized down there. Nothing special but definitely not disappointing.

- Probably down for a few threesomes, he’s not even really particular on how they would work. Girl x guy x girl? Hell yeah! Guy x girl x guy? As long as you think you can handle it, he thinks it’s hot.

- He’d probably be into anal (doing it to you of course). There’s just something about him that screams that he likes that sort of thing.

- He’s definitely the type of guy to light up a cigarette right after sex. Hell he’d probably smoke a cigarette during sex if you’d let him.

- You probably wouldn’t think of him as someone whose a fan of aftercare but he’s weirdly good at it. He doesn’t even think anything of it although if you ever bring it up he’ll get embarrassed.

#dinger holfield headcanon #dinger holfield headcanons #dinger holfield x reader #dinger holfield imagine #dinger holfield #dream a little dream headcanon #dream a little dream headcanons #dream a little dream imagine #dream a little dream x reader #80s movie smut #80s movie headcanons #80s movie headcanon #80s movie imagine #80s imagine #80s imagines

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mego42 · 4 years

Note

i totally agree with you about annie and rio being bi, so i thought if you wanted to, maybe you could write a fic about them talking about their common experience. i would love more sibling in law camaraderie! but i feel like the only way rio could truly be that vulnerable is if he were high. would love to read about them high together! thank you in advance! #highwhilebi

Oh my god, anon, I wish you could have seen my face when this came in because yes.

I hope you don’t mind, but I’m taking this as an opportunity to also write a little something for @nickmillerscaulk because she is the actual best and it’s literally the least I can do to say thank you.

I hope you both enjoy 💖

“Where’s your sister?”

Rio straight up, like, materializes in the kitchen, startling the fuck out of Annie and making her drop the chip bowl she’s refilling.

“Jesus, fuck,” she says, scooping a handful of potato chips off the floor. Five-second rule, right? Besides, Beth keeps the floors clean enough to eat off of. Literally. “You should wear a bell.”

He doesn’t answer and for a second Annie thinks—hopes?—maybe he’s disappeared as silently as he appeared. But, when she looks up he’s still there, staring at her and the floor chips, clearly horrified.

Feeling thoroughly judged, Annie belligerently pops a chip in her mouth, gratified when his look of horror intensifies.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, chewing noisily just to be obnoxious and tossing the rest of the handful in the trash. Yeah, fine, it’s gross.

“Where’s your sister?” Rio asks again, ignoring her question.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Annie retorts, grabbing some salsa out of the fridge.

She realizes that it’s probably unwise to taunt the crimelord in her sister’s kitchen, but it’s not like anyone would ever accuse her of being wise. Which is kind of annoying, actually, because she is in many ways, but it goes unappreciated.

Besides, it’s not like he’s going to do anything to her. She likes to think it’s because in the past year since he and Beth have stopped actively trying to kill each other, Annie and Rio have become...not friends, but cordial enough that she hopes killing her would at least be awkward.

Except, she’s not stupid. He runs a gang for Pete’s sake, awkwardness is not a barrier to him, you know, taking care of business. The real reason Annie’s relatively sure he isn’t going to do anything to her is Beth. Annie’s perfectly safe as long as he wants to keep doing whatever it is he’s doing with her sister.

It gives her the shivers, honestly. She can’t believe Beth—Beth—is into it, him. The whole situation is so weird.

Annie gathers up her snacks and supplies and heads back to the couch and TV, dumping it all on the ottoman Judith had sent over ages ago that’s still serving as a makeshift coffee table. Beth had finally started replacing her furniture—that Rio stole. And that’s another thing, they have the weirdest foreplay Annie’s ever seen, and that’s saying something given some of the people she’s hooked up with—but was doing it slowly.

The couch was one of the first big pieces she’d bought before even a bed. Which is another weird thing, actually, given that Beth’s finally getting some on the regular. You’d think she’d want someplace more comfortable than an air mattress to—

Annie sits bolt upright, feet flying off the ottoman, nearly upending the salsa and chip bowl. Oh god, is this their sex couch?

Her eyes fly to Rio, still hovering like an awkward lurker by the kitchen door, glaring like it’s somehow Annie’s fault that Beth’s not here. Which is rich, him holding anything against her, when she’s the one over here sitting on the sex couch.

Oh, fuck it, she thinks, dropping back onto the cushions. It’s not the grossest thing she’s ever sat on by a mile.

“I don’t know when she’ll be back, she ran out to help Ruby with some church play costume emergency,” Annie relents, fishing around for the remote. “I can tell her you came by, or you can hang out, whatever, just stop hovering. It’s creepy.”

She crows, triumphant when she retrieves the remote, but it ends in a squeak as he sits down on the other end of the couch. She’d invited him to stay because that’s what people do, she didn’t think he’d take her up on it.

But, okay, sure, he’s here. The scary-ass gang banger her sister’s boning until the cow’s come home is chillin’ with Annie on an ugly ass floral couch Beth picked up at the ReStore, thumbing through his phone like this is all perfectly fine and normal.

Annie never wanted her life to be predictable, but this is a left turn she never saw coming.

Shrugging to herself, Annie hits play and dips a chip into the salsa. Nothing left to do but lean into it, apparently.

“M’watching Shitt’s Creek, by the way,” she says around a mouthful of salt and tomatoes, bizarrely satisfied when he looks over at her with a pained expression. “It’s about this family—”

“Yeah, I fuck with it,” he says, looking back at his phone as he casually upends Annie’s mental picture of him and what he’s into like it’s nothing.

“You do not,” she says, crunching down on another chip for strength.

“What?” His eyes flick over to her. “It’s good shit.”

“I know that,” she says. “It just doesn’t seem like, you know.” She waves in his general vicinity. “Your thing.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs, going back to his phone. “What’s that sayin’ ‘bout judgin’ books by their covers?”

Which, ouch. Annie doesn’t judge. Okay, so she judges but not like that. She knows better than anyone how deceiving appearances can be.

She digs around in her purse for her bowl and her weed. The whole situation is way too surreal for sobriety without being called out for being shallow and judgmental by her sister’s crime husband.

He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything when she pulls out her pipe. Not until she packs it and pulls out her lighter.

“You sure you should be doin’ that in here?” he asks, which is just—no.

“Okay, first of all,” she starts, waving a hand in his face. “I don’t care what you guys get up to, you do not get to tell me what to do in my sister’s house. Ask Deansie how that worked out for him.”

He smirks a little, and Annie can’t help grinning back. What can she say? Deansie sucks ass, and she appreciates anyone who recognizes that.

“Second,” she continues, calmer now. “He’s got the kids for the week, so there’s plenty of time for the smell to dissipate. I brought a candle.”

“Besides—” Now it’s her turn to smirk. “It’s not like there’s all that much furniture to absorb the smell.”

Rio laughs at that, bobbing his head in acknowledgment of her point, and Annie squirms a little, pleased at his approval and annoyed that she’s pleased.

“Now shut up and let me watch my show.”

She hits the bowl a few times, loving the warm, loose feeling that spreads in her head. It’s too bad Beth won’t smoke with her, it’d do wonders for that stick in her ass. Though, who knows, maybe she likes the stick. Beth’s a total fucking mystery to her these days.

Annie laughs a little to herself, and Rio looks over, curious.

“Want some?” She asks, offering him the bowl and lighter. She isn’t expecting him to take her up on it. If nothing else, he seems more like a joints or blunts than glass kind of guy. But she is apparently entirely shit at predicting anything about him because he takes it from her and lights up, smooth and easy like he’s had plenty of practice.

They smoke in silence for a bit, passing the bowl back and forth until it’s tapped, and Annie’s feeling pretty warm and fuzzy. She grabs the chips and salsa, moving them to the couch between them for easier reach before snuggling back into the cushions. She nudges the potato chip bowl at him, dipping one into the salsa and popping it in her mouth.

“What?” She asks at the look he gives her. “It’s good. People act like you can only dip tortilla chips in salsa, but really they just lack vision.”

He shrugs and grabs a chip. The satisfied hum he lets out when he tries it makes Annie downright giddy after all of the shit Beth and Ruby give her over her weird condiment and food combos.

“You know what else is good?” She asks, recognizing a kindred spirit and lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Syrup on potatoes.”

He dunks another chip and chews slowly as he considers her insight.

“Yeah, I could see it,” he says after a long moment.

“My man!” Annie shouts, throwing up a hand for a high five and nearly upending the snacks.

He laughs, and for a second, Annie thinks he’s going to leave her hanging which, unsurprising but a little disappointing, she can’t lie. But then he raises a hand and taps it to hers.

It’s probably the weed, but it feels like she won something and makes her absurdly happy. She turns back to the tv, smiling a little wider when she sees Rio pocket his phone and settle back out of the corner of her eye.

They watch a few episodes mostly in companionable silence, sharing the chips and occasionally cracking up, and it’s...weirdly nice? Like hanging out with a friend which is a total mind fuck to be entirely honest.

She doesn’t know if it’s the weed or the weird level of comfortable they’ve inexplicably achieved, but he must be feeling it too. It’s the only possible explanation for what happens next.

“Gooood,” Annie groans, slouching down a little on the couch and pressing a throw pillow over her face.

“Hmmm?” Rio’s pretty boneless himself, the second rotation seems to have done the trick.

“I just, I can’t even look at them,” she says, waving a hand towards the screen where Ted and Alexis are having a moment. “It’s too much concentrated hotness.”

She flings the pillow away, realizing after she let go that she’d more or less thrown it straight at his head, but he lazily bats it down on his lap, so that’s fine then.

“You ever have that? That thing where someone is just like, too hot, and it ruins your life a little?” Not waiting for an answer, Annie studies the tv. “Alexis more than Ted for sure, but I would gladly bone down with either of them in a heartbeat. Fuck, I forgot how horny weed makes me.”

It’s like her brain catches up with her mouth all at once, and she freezes, replaying everything that’s just come out of her mouth.

“Okay, for the record, I know how that sounded, and I was not hitting on you,” she says, staring straight ahead and blushing so hard it feels like her entire face is on fire. “I want to be extremely clear on that.”

She hears this sort of wheezing sound and seriously wonders for a second if she just freaked out so hard she burst something. But when she darts a glance to the side, she sees Rio’s got a hand over his face, shoulders shaking, and she realizes the wheezing noise is him. Laughing at her.

Like, really laughing. Nearly helpless with it, honestly.

It’s so unexpected, so different from how she’s ever seen him, it snaps her all the way out of her embarrassment. She literally feels her jaw drop, which is something she always kind of thought only happened in like, tv shows.

And he just keeps laughing, it’s like once he started, he can’t stop. After a minute, Annie shrugs and goes back to watching the show, helping herself to more chips and trying to remember if she’d seen any of those mini pizzas in the freezer.

Eventually, Rio calms down, dropping his hand, and Annie glances over, attention caught by the movement, and he’s smiling at her kind of fond and shit, which is weird but also weirdly nice? She feels like she could get used to him liking her. Maybe even like him back a little. He’s pretty chill when he’s not like, threatening people with guns and death and stuff.

He’s got good taste in tv, anyway. Snacks too.

“So, Ted and Alexis, huh?” he asks and, right. What with the unexpected giggle fit she forgot she kind of came out to him.

“Yeah, you know,” Annie gestures at the screen, a little apprehensive. It’s been so long since she’s explained her sexuality to anyone. She’s totally chill with it, but she forgot that squirmy little edge that comes with saying it out loud no matter how little she cares what the other person thinks of her. “I like the wine, not the label.”

But Rio just nods, like it’s a foregone conclusion. “Yeah, I figured that part, I meant that’s what does it for you?”

“I mean, not that it’s any of your business,” Annie says, electing to ignore the fact that she started this. “But yes—wait, what do you mean you figured?”

“The jumpsuits and shit,” he says, frowning like it’s obvious.

Which like, yeah, she dresses to advertise sometimes, but the assumption gets under her skin.

“That’s ridiculous,” she shoots back. “How would you like it if I just, you know, called you out for your gigantic bisexual nose piercing?”

He’s smiling at her again, that sort of fond, sort of amused, sort of I-know-something-that-you-don’t smile that’s really fucking obnoxious, to be honest. She absolutely zero percent understands Beth’s thing with him, he’s so—and then the other shoe drops.

“Oh my god, wait, you’re…?” Annie trails off, not wanting to assume a label.

“Yeah, I guess I—” Rio pauses and squints at her like he’s trying to decide something. “I like a few different types of wine.”

“No shit,” Annie breathes. “Does Beth know?”

Not that it would matter to Beth, obviously, Annie just really loves the idea of knowing something about her sister’s boyfr—no, fuck buddy? Please, like Beth would have anything that crass, she probably thinks of him as her lover, the nerd—that Beth doesn’t.

Rio just looks at her though, eyebrow raised and fine; apparently boundaries are still a thing. Or so he thinks, he doesn’t know how persistent she can be yet.

“Whatever,” she says, putting the chips and salsa back on the ottoman before turning full body towards him, tucking a foot up on the couch and plopping the remaining throw pillow in her lap to lean on. “So, do you feel me on Ted and Alexis? Who’s your type?”

He huffs a laugh, closing his eyes and scrubbing a hand over his face like he’s already regretting saying anything.

“Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell meeeeee,” Annie whines, nudging him in the leg with her toe. “You might as well get it over with, I’m not going to stop.”

“I like—” Rio cracks an eye at her, looking her up and down, and Annie does her best to look trustworthy and supportive. “Patrick.”

Annie’s jaw drops, again. “Darkhorse pick, man! I did not see that coming.”

His shoulders bunch up, and he starts to sit up, so Annie thumps him with the pillow until he settles back down. “No, no, it’s great, I love it.”

She stops, cocking her head and studying him. “That actually makes a bizarre amount of sense. He’s got that same bouncy, wholesome, fuck-with-my-people-and-I-will-end-you-but-politely vibe as my sister, now that I think about it.”

Rio frowns like that’s something he hadn’t considered before, and Annie’s absurdly pleased to have upended his mental equilibrium this time.

“Damn, gang friend,” she says, grinning wide. “I think we’re having a moment. I will be honest, I did not see this coming.”

He laughs again, sort of reluctant like he doesn’t want to, but Annie can see a little bit of a genuine smile teasing around the edges of his mouth.

“Admit it,” she says, poking him with her toe again. “You like me.”

He rolls his eyes, dropping his head on the back of the couch and looking at her. “Don’t push it, yeah?”

“Fine, fine,” she says, turning back to face the tv. “I’ll let it go for now.”

They watch in silence for a minute before Annie gets an idea and has to forcibly tamp down on her grin. She starts to hum a little under her breath, getting a little louder when she sees him look at her out of the corner of his eye.

“You’re simply the best,” she sings, collapsing into giggles when he smacks her with the pillow she’d flung at him earlier.

***

“What the hell happened here?”

Annie nearly kicks the plate of crumbs—the only evidence of the mini pizza feast she’d made them—off the ottoman as she startles awake to find Beth standing in front of the couch, hands on her hips.

Her face is flickering as she tries to look stern but clearly wants to smile, and Annie realizes she’d passed out with her face against Rio’s shoulder and—oh god, she’d been drooling on it.

She shoves off of him abruptly, wiping her chin and sticking her tongue out at him when he grins at her.

“Nothing,” Anie says, opening and closing her mouth like it will help clear the moss that’s grown all over it while she slept. “Just watching tv.”

“Oh yeah? You’re friends now?” Beth asks, failing to hide the hopeful lilt to her voice like they’ve given her a birthday present or some shit.

“Yeah, I mean, what can I say?” Annie glances at Rio with a shrug. “He’s better than all the rest.”

She cracks up all over again when he pushes her off the couch.

#good girls fic #rio + annie #brio fic #kind of that tag feels like cheating tbh #nbc good girls #fic prompts #asks #anon #my fic #bless you anon this was so much fun

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loverdrew · 4 years

Text

Promise, You Won’t Fall In Love With Me

He never knew love. He never understood relationships. He never imagined his life after high school or outside of his fame. She was the opposite. She deeply loved her family, she had ambition, intelligence and drive. They were the complete opposite, but together, they wouldn’t know what to do without each other.

Inspired by the movie A Walk To Remember.

Senior year. The year all the students turn 18, throw the wildest parties, the lifelong dreams of getting acceptance letters from their dream college. However, the Ethan Dolan didn’t have to worry about that one bit. He already had a future. He would continue making video comedy content online for his millions of girl fans that adored his soft eyes and bright smile. After this year he would move to California to pursue even bigger dreams, leaving his heart in New Jersey.

The hallways and outside the school yard filled with laughter, hugs, girls wearing close to nothing, and the guys drooling over them. Ethan walked in holding his football, jersey on full display, taking in the last first day of any schooling he’d ever get.

“My boys!” One of his friends, Jason, exclaimed. He hugged both Grayson and Ethan and put both arms around them walking into school. “This going to be the best year yet?”

“Oh you know it! The parties, the easy classes, the girls!” Grayson rubbed his hands together and laughed.

Ethan’s laughed along with his friends walking into the building, when the most unexpected girl caught his eye at her locker. It was Y/N. He had known her since kindergarten, she always wore the same type of outfit: a pastel skirt to her knees and a blouse with the same beige knitted sweater. Her hair always out of her face either in a ponytail or behind her ears, and she wore a brown shoulder bag to carry her books. They never particularly talked or even hung out together, but he somehow knew everything superficial about her. She never paid him any attention, except in class when he tried to be disruptive on purpose. He weirdly wished she would pay attention then. But he’s hooked up with prettier girls than her, so she wasn’t one to be upset over, right?

“Ethan Dolan, to the principals office. Ethan Grant Dolan, please come to the principals office.” They all heard, even Y/N. Their eyes met for a split second, before she closed her locker and headed to home period.

“Damn dude, trouble on the first day?” Jason joked.

“Shut up man. You know I’m the model student.” He smirked, shaking hands with his friends before headed to the office, which happened to be right across from Y/N’s home period, not like he noticed. He swiftly walked into the office and sat in the chair in front of principle Henderson, who closed the door with a stern look on his face.

“Ethan, what did I tell you about getting into trouble again.” He crossed his arms.

“Principle Henderson, I don’t know what you mean but I have been an angel since last semester, haven’t I?” He flashed that boyish smile of his that got him out of every situation, just not this one.

The principle proceeds to pull out 5 beer bottles and 2 bitter nubs of used joints. Ethan stiffened, his mouth running dry.

“I have no idea what those are.” He said quietly.

“Cut the act Dolan. Along with drinking and smoking on school property, you’re on the verge of not graduating. You have a combined GPA of 2.3. You need at least a 2.9 to graduate. Now I could expel you and kick you off the football team now...” Ethan begins to worry sit up straight, trying not to believe this could be true. “But I won’t.” Ethan looked up at him with a big sigh, eyes falling shut.

“Thank you, thank you so much Mr.Henderson I promise I’ll be even better-”

“You didn’t let me finish. Instead of doing all that, you’re going to be doing something for me. You will get a tutor which I will assign to you, and you’ll be spending time after school participating in our schools fall play.”

“Oh cmon Mr. Henderson you can’t be serious. I can’t act, at all.”

“You acted like you didn’t know where that bottle came from. And now you’ll act as the prince in our schools production of Beauty and the Beast.” Ethan struggled with the principles decisions, but if he didn’t do it he would’ve been destroyed having to give up his friends and football.

“When do rehearsals start.” He said plainly.

______

At lunch, instead of being in the lunchroom with his group of friends laughing and being dorks together, he was stuck in the library for the next 45 minutes, waiting for whoever his new tutor is. He tapped his pencil impatiently. All he had to do was pass English and Government/Economics with at least a 75% and he’d be golden, but even he didn’t know how he could manage that. He looked around, and heard the library door open in front of him, revealing the golden eyed girl walking in with such ease. Her eyes found his and slightly pulled at her bag strings nervously. He sighed in disbelief, of course the girl with straight A’s, captain of the science club and the church singer was his tutor.

“Hi Ethan. I’m Y/N, your tutor for this semester.” She said in a soft voice just above a whisper. “Today we’re just going over basics explained in the syllabus but it won’t take long, maybe 25 minutes so you’ll be able to run off with your friends.” She took a seat in front of him, opening up the Government textbook and her notebook with the classes syllabus laid out.

“I don’t need you to do me any favors okay, I just need to pass. I would think you’d want me here considering Ms. I’m-so-holy doesn’t have many friends.” He spat at her. Partially because he felt embarrassed, partially because he didn’t want to give her any impression that he in any way cared about her. It didn’t even phase her, being that her whole life was filled with constant ridicule and bullying. She stayed calm amidst his venomous words.

“The teachers are my friends, my church choir are my friends, my father is my friend. Please don’t pretend like you know me, Ethan. You haven’t even spoken to me ever.”

“But I’ve been going to school with you and living in the same neighborhood as you since we were 5. Your father is a prodigious doctor that always goes to church to watch you sing. You’ve lived in the same white house with the pink flowers surrounding the white painted porch. You always wear pastel colors because you like to be girly but don’t want attention. You started putting your hand back in middle school because it always got in your face when you were studying. I know you Y/N. Don’t act like you don’t know me either.”

“I know you Ethan. Which means I know you’re capable of doing greater things than being the stereotypical jock. You’re successful and talented and smart, learn to use it. Now let’s get started.” She said without even looking at him, and staring daggers into her book.

_____

After school, Ethan trudged his way to the schools theatre, where everyone would be meeting up for the parts and the production of the play. No surprise that Y/N was there, script in hand near the piano, while someone playing ‘Beauty and the Beast’, and she hummed along. The stage lights somehow made her skin shine brighter, and her hair glisten. He scoffed, and sat in the 3rd row, seeing all of the theatre nerds gather with smiling faces ready to start production.

“Alright everyone settle down. We are going to cast roles right now so listen up!” Ms. Davida clapped her hands and stood in front of the stage.

“For the role of Lumiere and Cogsworth, Louis and Jeremy! Mrs. Potts goes to Claira, Gaston goes to Derrick, Belle goes to of course, Y/N, and The Beast is played by the newest member to theatre Mr. Ethan Dolan.” Ethan knew he would get the lead, but Y/N did not. Her eyes spread wide, whites fully visible as her grip on her script tightened just slightly, the realization that she’d have to play his princess. She could barely handle his demeanor during tutoring, but in something that she loves to do she would only hope he wouldn’t ruin it for her.

“Opening night is in exactly 3 months just before Christmas break, so that means you’ll all need to work hard and together to make this production amazing but I believe in you all. So let’s get right to it! Ethan, Y/N on the stage please we will be starting with the scene when Belle and the Beast argue, right after he saves her from the wolves. Feel the anger, feel the frustration.” She had that typical musical theatre teacher ‘passion voice’, really trying to emphasize the feelings within the scene. Ethan couldn’t take her seriously, laughing as he jumped onto stage and grabbing ahold of a script.

“Y/N, you start and pretend that you’re cleaning up his wound.”

Y/N slightly rolled her eyes and put her hand out signaling Ethan to give her his arm. He sighed and slammed his arm into her palm, she then yanked it closer to her not caring if it hurt him, and pretended with her other hand to be patting it.

“If you’d hold still it wouldn’t hurt it as much!” She yelled her first line. Ethan could tell some of that frustration was real. So he decided to do the same.

“Well if you wouldn’t have run away, this wouldn’t have happened!”

“If you wouldn’t have frightened me I wouldn’t have run away!”

“Well you shouldn’t have been in the West Wing!”

“Well you should learn to control your temper.” She said plainly, as if it was an actual piece of advice.

“Now hold still. This might sting a little.” In the script it says for Ethan to wince in pain, so he did, just not well at all. It was forced, and painfully bad to watch his face squint uncomfortably. Y/N sighed, turning to the teacher.

“Ms. Davida he needs to take this seriously, some of us really want this play to go well.”

“I don’t even want to be here, I was forced to join the play, I could’ve gone my entire life without acting in a play.”

“Then leave.” She stepped forward in his face, quickly walking away towards backstage to get some air. He made her so angry. His cocky attitude, his rude tone of voice, the way he could get under her skin over and over again yet she still wanted to see good in him because she truly believed he had some left. Ethan looked off with a surprised face to see all the cast looking at him, and the principle standing at the edge of the theatre, arms crossed. He got nervous, making his way backstage to catch Y/N drinking some water.

“Y/N, hey Y/N, please listen to me.” He grabbed her hand but she angrily pulled it back.

“What.”

“Help me okay. I’m sorry, I really need to do great in this play or else I get expelled. I’m sorry for being so mean and always in your face. I just-this is all new to me.”

“Being nice to someone trying to genuinely help you is ‘new to you’?” she used air quotes, rolling her eyes taking another sip of water.

“No, trying new things. Trying to be good. I’ve always acted tough on purpose because I thought that’s how it should be. People give you more respect.”

“Your act only works on an audience.” Y/N saw through it since first day of kindergarten when he stole her crayons and snored next to her ear during nap time to annoy her. But she paid no mind, there were more important things to worry about than a little boy.

“Ethan, if you promise me you try, like really try, in all aspects, I won’t be opposed to helping you.” She said calmly, with her normal soft voice.

“I won’t say I’ll be perfect, but I’ll do the best I can.”

“That’s all I ask.” She started walking back onto the stage where they were already rehearsing another scene, but she quickly turned back around to say one last minor detail.

“Oh yea and Ethan, one more thing. You have to promise not to fall in love with me.”

A chuckle came from his mouth as he looked her up and down.

“Without a doubt, that is a promise I can keep.”

#ethan dolan #grayson dolan #the dolan twins #ethan dolan imagine #grayson dolan imagine #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins smut #dolan twins masterlist

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gerberbabey · 4 years

Text

euphoric | two | JJ Maybank

a/n: JJ’s here but there aint a lot of jj action. we’ll get there though

summary: It’s the day of the kegger

masterlist | previous | next

warnings: cursing, slow shit, terrible writing, underaged drinking, underaged smoking, grinding

two - ♫ RATCHET SATURN GIRL by Aminé ♫

“Wait lemme see her Instagram again.”

Kie’s face scrunched up in distaste as she pulled her phone away from JJ’s grabby hands. The Pogues were hanging around the Chateau, trying to figure out how to waste time before they had to set up for the kegger. It was about 10 in the morning and the sun was already bearing down pretty harshly.

“Ew no, I don’t need to watch you leer,” Kie chastised and JJ scoffed as he blew out a puff of smoke.

When Kie had gotten there earlier in the morning, the boys had hounded her about what happened during the Kook party and how she could’ve possibly been willing to not only stay at the party but also personally invite Kooks to their kegger. Kie told them about you and Isaiah, describing the experience as clearly a good one and even showing them your Instagrams.

JJ being JJ had jumped onto looking through your Instagram almost immediately. Social media wasn’t something they tended to care about but JJ was not only a boy he was also an idiot. Your Instagram was littered with a variety of posts; selfies, outfit pictures, pictures of scenery, pictures of people who were likely from your hometown, intricate eye makeup that was clearly being flexed. Kie knew not to use social media as a basis for a person’s life or personality but from the short time she’d gotten to talk to you, Kie saw you as much more bubbly and down to earth compared to what you posted.

“I don’t...leer,” JJ huffed out and Kie gave him a look.

“Do you even know what that means...JJ?” Pope spoke up from where he was trying to stay hidden away from the direct rays of the sun.

“Yeah, I know what it means…” JJ trailed off, clearly indicating that he didn’t actually know what it meant. Pope opened his mouth to educate JJ when he was cut off by John B stepping out of his house, letting the door slam behind him.

“You guys wanna go out to the marsh?” John B questioned and the Pogues all groaned out confirmations.

“Yo, you still have beer?” JJ questioned as he stood up, dusting off his shorts, and then grabbing his backpack. Kie had picked herself up from where she was laying down but still remained otherwise preoccupied and distracted by her phone, this time stalking through Isaiah’s account.

“Oh shit nah, I ran out yesterday,” John B clicked his teeth in irritation.

“I could go grab some from the Wreck really quick?” Kie suggested as she finally pocketed her phone with the knowledge that that was probably the last she was gonna use it aside from listening to music. John B nodded as Pope finally stood up from his hiding place and made his way over. Pope was waving away smoke as JJ playfully blew it in his direction.

“Alright, so the wreck, then the marsh?” John B questioned and the Pogues all agreed before they headed over to John B’s van, ready for another day of Pogue life fun.

________

You didn’t like the idea of having to drive around with your brother, but your lack of a car and lack of friends made it difficult to actively get away from him. He was clearly as annoyed about it as you were but the two of you couldn’t complain.

“A german shepherd?”

“I was thinking a pitbull actually.”

“Oh dude,” you turned to your brother at that and he raised his brows, “Pitbulls are so cute, but mom would literally be terrified.”

Yesterday you had brought up the topic of possibly getting a dog and although you were 110% sure that your parents were ready to shut you down, Bea’s excitement at the prospect had gotten you the momentum you needed. Once Bea had latched onto the idea, she didn’t even give your parents a chance to try and say no. Back in California, it was easier for them to say no when it came to getting a dog.

First of all your mom was terrified of dogs, so she was quick to say no regardless. But she also always backed it up by saying that you didn’t have the time, space, or resources to be taking care of a dog. But now you were in the Outer Banks. Your new home had a ridiculous amount of space, you had all the time in the damn world, and how hard could it be to get stuff for a dog right now?

You also might’ve gotten Bea to guilt-trip your parents by whispering in her ear that a dog would make as a great new friend in these...trying days.

“All my friends are back home! I don’t have any here!” she’d yelled angrily as you all made your way back inside the house last night and your mom wasn’t the least bit amused, but your dad had fallen right into her little 9-year-old trap.

“Is that Kie?” You questioned, sitting up as you saw a familiar set of curls up the road. You then noticed that up ahead was the Wreck, Kie’s parents’ restaurant and there was Kie bustling out with some boys who you figured were here friends. Isaiah slowed the car down as you rolled down the windows, sticking your head out. Kie and her friends were making their way toward a vintage, beat-up looking van when you let out a wolf whistle.

“Hey baby, you wanna go have some fun?” you teased as Kie whipped her head up to look at you. Her sour expression melted into a grin as she laughed at your antics. You didn’t question the boldness of your own actions, only briefly wondering if perhaps you were being too comfortable with someone you barely knew. Yet Kie’s reaction eased your worries.

“Hey,” she greeted as Isaiah brought the car to a stop, letting Kie walk up to your vehicle and leaving her friends to watch her as she did so, “Hey Isaiah,” she greeted separately.

“What’s up,” he drawled, grinning at her as you rolled your eyes.

“What are you guys up to?” Kie asked as she took in your appearance. Reminiscent of the previous night and of the posts Kie had seen on Instagram, you had done yourself up in that way that Kie couldn’t help but admire. She wasn’t one for makeup herself considering she knew that her day to day activities would just lead to it coming off. Yet she appreciated the amount of time and effort you probably put into the looks that you pulled.

“We’re gonna go to the thrift shop cus (N/N) wants a mirror, then we’re gonna go to the animal shelter and see about adopting a dog,” Isaiah answered.

“Uh, hey Kie?”

Kie turned around and you looked past her and at the 3 boys she was originally with.

“You wanna…” The tall messy haired one trailed off, motioning to you, “You wanna introduce us to your friends?” Kie made a face at John B and the boy only smiled back at her awkwardly. Pope was shifting around like the introvert he was, rocking on his feet and looking between you and Kie. JJ licked his lips as he stared you down, debating about whether he should trust Kie’s judgment or stick to his ideals when it came to Kooks (even if he thought you were incredibly attractive).

“Boys, this is (Y/N) and her brother Isaiah, they just moved here,” Kie motioned for her friends to come over and they shuffled closer, sticking together as they came to stand beside Kie.

“Hi, I’ve heard great things,” you greeted, smiling up at the boys. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking each of them up and down, taking in their appearances. You weren’t gonna lie, they were cute...

“Hey, I’m John B,” the first boy introduced, and he nodded to you before he nudged at one of his friends.

“Uh I’m Pope. Heyward. Hi,” Pope waved awkwardly and you waved back.

“JJ,” JJ said shortly with a nod and he gave you a sort of grimace of a smile.

“You guys throwing the kegger?” Isaiah asked and the Pogues nodded, “Where do ya’ll just get a keg?”

“We have our ways,” JJ said ominously and his friends all shot him a look while you glanced at Isaiah before turning back and nodding reluctantly.

“Oookay...well we’re gonna head out. We’ll see you guys later tonight?” you tilted your head, looking each of them in the eye. Their voices overlapped with one another as they answered you. You let out a laugh and blew Kie a kiss as your brother waved before the two of you drove off, leaving the Pogue’s standing by the side of the road.

“So?” Kie turned to her friends and they looked at her, confused, “Aren’t they like, weirdly cool?”

“I mean it was like barely a minute of interaction,” Pope argued but Kie only shot him a look, “...but yeah they were actually kinda cool.”

“Hey we’ll only know for sure tonight!” JJ clapped, “We don’t trust anyone until they’ve been exposed to all sides of the island,” JJ pointed at each of his friends, “Now c’mon, the marsh awaits!”

________

“Are you changing?”

“Are you?” you shot back at Isaiah giving his outfit a once over. He was dressed in a large shirt and some shorts.

Isaiah paused, looking down at his outfit, “...No…?”

“Then no, I’m not changing,” you finalized as you finished fixing up your make up.

The sun was slowly starting to set, leaving an orange hue over the island, making you feel rather bright in comparison to the neutral tones of the island and the people on the island. Kie was arriving soon, if her text was any indication.

“What if you end up in the ocean?” Isaiah brought up and you made eye contact with him through the mirror before shrugging.

“It might make it look sick as fuck.”

“Alright.”

You stood and looked into the full body mirror you had bought today. You were dressed in a colorful body con sleeveless dress, the dress patterned with butterflies. Your make up stuck to a more natural neutral look, though you’d drawn on intricate butterfly designs onto your eyelids. You’d topped it off with a few jewels on the edge of the butterflies wings.

“Kie’s here!” Isaiah called and you gave yourself one last look before picking up your phone and then rushing out. In front of your home was the vintage, beat up old van that you had seen earlier in the day. Isaiah had taken up the passenger's seat and you gave him a look as you pushed the van open and shuffled in.

“How are you guys doing?” Kie greeted and you chuckled.

“Fine since you saw us,” you checked your bare wrist, “5 hours ago?”

“”Hey a lot can happen in 5 hours.”

“Very true.”

“How’s the dog thing going?”

“We checked at the shelter and they said it could take up to maybe a week?” Isaiah answered as he ran a hand through his hair, “But otherwise we just visited to check out the dogs. It’s hard to pick just one.”

“Uuuugh, it makes me so sad,” you groaned out leaning against the back of Kie’s seat.

“I bet,” Kie laughed.

The drive hadn’t been too long, or as long as you imagined. It took a bit just to get to the other side of the island, then took just a bit more time for Kie to park the mystery machine-esque van at a location that didn’t look like cars were meant to be parked there. You couldn’t peep many other cars, but you could see a group of people making their way further up the beach.

“Just follow me,” Kie instructed and you and your brother looked at each other before following after her.

It was a bit of a walk but soon enough, after crossing over a billion dead trees and shit, you got to the part of the beach that was just packed with people. About two or three bonfires had already been lit and there was music blasting out into the open air. It definitely wasn’t what you were used to but you weren’t going to complain. The sun was quickly setting though it seemed that people had been arriving far earlier than this point.

“Hey!” Kie called out and led you over to the center of the party. Groups of people were lined up and you noticed Kie’s friends, the Pogues, were manning the keg, handing off filled red solo cups to both under aged and of aged people. You were pretty sure you’d spotted a middle aged man lingering about in the crowd.

“Heey!!” JJ was clearly further along than most others. You raised a brow as he climbed up onto a branch and called for everyone’s attention.

“Alright hey! Everyone these two, right here,” JJ motioned to you and your brother, “Are new to the island! Alright, new to permanent residency, so not tourons!”

You let out a laugh as JJ tried his damned hardest to explain to the crowd (who were not listening) what the difference was between you and the so called Tourons.

“JJ! Get the hell down, you idiot,” Kie scolded and JJ only laughed before he jumped off of the thing he had climbed.

“Here you go,” John B nodded as he handed Isaiah a red solo cup. The boy nodded in thanks, taking a drink as he looked around. You scoffed as you noted the familiar look in his eye. That look that meant someone had already caught his interest.

“I’m gonna head over there,” he told you absentmindedly and you only shook him off.

“Go crazy,” you told him and he was sauntering off.

“For the lady?” John B offered and you purse your lips before shaking your head.

“Um no thanks, you guys smoke?” you questioned and John B raised his brows before turning to look at JJ.

“JJ,” John b called and the blonde made his way over. He put an arm around John B and licked his lips as he looked you up and down, similar to how he had done earlier in the day. You shot him a look and your eyes lingered on one another for a second longer before JJ turned to John B.

“John B, my man, what’s up?” JJ questioned and John B gestured to you.

“(Y/N)’s trying to smoke,” he informed and JJ nodded in understanding and excitement.

“Well of course,” JJ insisted before he offered you an arm, you looped your arm around his and he began to lead you away, “You look beautiful by the way. Just need to get that in there. Love the butterflies.”

You let out a laugh at that and shot Kie a look. Kie rolled her eyes though the smile on her face reassured you.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, uh we usually have a smoke circle going for anyone who just wants to hang. You know, away from all the dancing and shit. I think the Kooks do like lines of coke over there if that’s what you want,” JJ explained as he led you to one of the other bonfires that had been started.

“Noted,” you drawled as JJ jumped over a log and helped you over.

The circle of teens and young adults all greeted JJ and he grinned at them as he helped you settle down.

“Pass me that shit,” JJ ordered and the girl holding the blunt shot him a look but handed it to him anyway. JJ took a hit before offering it to you. You nodded in thanks as you took it between your thumb and pointer. Taking a long drag you let it settle for a moment before you blew out O’s.

“Oohohoho shit,” JJ hyped up and you grinned as a few of the others clapped.

“Thank you, thank you,” you bowed playfully before you passed it to the person beside you.

“Uh hi, I’m Max by the way,” one of the boys across from you introduced and you waved to him.

“(Y/N).”

A few others introduced themselves to you, though the rest were so gone you didn’t expect them to say much.

“So (Y/N) how’s the island for you so far?” JJ asked and he leaned back to look at you.

“It’s like my 2nd day here,” you informed him and the group laughed.

“Ok but that’s like perfect, first impressions are the basis for everything. Plus, it’s your second day and you're here, I’d say that’s a pretty good first impression,” some kid said and you chuckled.

“I guess so.”

“By the way, your outfit, your make up, your whole,” the girl beside JJ gestured to the entirety of you, “looks fucking amazing. I love that. I only pray for that beauty and confidence.”

“Ok relax, you’re literally gorgeous,” you complimented before you took another hit of the blunt that was making it’s way around.

“Bet it’s nothing like California,” JJ raised his brows and you scoffed.

“Absolutely not. This whole island vibe thing is so far from what it was like back home. Even your parties don’t match up,” at that comment the group began to protest though you weren’t having any of it. As chill as everyone seemed to be so far, it was just different back in California. It was brighter, crazier, dirtier, and everything in between and you expressed that to them.

“Oh dirtier,” JJ wiggled his eyebrows and you laughed. The lightness of your head indicated that the blunt was definitely hitting.

“Shut up,” you laughed out as you gave him a playful shove. JJ gave you a wide grin and you tilted your head at the dazed look in his eye. You wondered how far gone this boy was.

“Yo, are you trying to dance right now?” one of the girls, you couldn’t remember her name, questioned though it was leaning more toward a demand than an actual inquisition.

“Sure if you want,” you shrugged and you stood from where you were seated on the sandy log. You missed how JJ’s eyes followed after you. He watched as you and the girl held hands and made your way into the crowd of dancing people. Some song was playing though he could barely make out the lyrics. The base was loud enough to let people know how to move though.

“Oh shit I love this song!” Someone screeched and JJ wondered how they could even tell what the song was.

His eyes drifted around though they found themselves back to your form. You and that girl were now dancing face to face, your legs crossing over one another’s. JJ couldn’t help but lick his lips as he watched your hips move in the dress you were wearing.

His mouth was ridiculously dry.

You jumped as you felt hands settle on your waist and though you weren’t too sure about dancing with some random guy at the moment you shot the girl (Lily? Emily? Annalee??) a look and she looked over your shoulder for a split second before she shot you a grin and a subtle thumbs up. You grinned, the prospect kinda funny to you before you began to grind back against whoever was holding you. Their hold tightened around you and you put one hand over their right and reached back with your left to run your hands through his hair.

The two of you grinded to the music and you laughed as the boy settled his chin on your shoulder, placing a chaste kiss on your neck. Perhaps you were underestimating this island just a little bit.

As the song began to transition into the next one you took the moment to look over your shoulder. Blinking up at the boy you grinned.

“Hi!”

Jeez, why were there so many cute guys on this island?

“Rafe!”

“Sorry?”

“I’m Rafe!” the boy shouted once more and you nodded. That sounded kinda familiar.

taglist: @sspidermanss, @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch, @duskangxl,

i dont remember if anyone else asked to be in the taglist, but if you did im sorry omg pls just lmk

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jcmadgirl · 4 years

Note

Hmmm, idea: the pogues noticing JJ hates physical touch (we all know why) but allows JB to touch him and comfort him.

Hi!! Sorry it took me so long to reply, exam session has been real crazy and I haven’t had much time to write rip.

But anyway, I hope you like this, and thanks for sending in a request ❤

Words: 2604

Relationships: JJ&The Pogues, JJ&John B, JJ/John B if you squint

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, mentions of child abuse.

Touch is a complicated thing.

It's not that it's necessarily bad.

(Not always, at least.)

(It's that JJ has trust issues the size of the Empire State Building.)

He hasn't been always like this.

(He remembers flowy blonde hair and blue eyes like his.)

(JJ doesn't remember her perfume, or what her face really looked like, but he remembers her hands.)

(Soft hands, gentle hands, brushing through his hair.)

(Sweet fingers tracing his skin.)

But that was way too long ago.

(Buried deep in his head.)

(It hurts to think about her, so JJ just doesn't.)

(He's great at not thinking, ask anyone.)

Now, touching has become a bit messy.

(Angry hands, bloody and bruised, the sound of bones giving out under his fists, ugly words filling JJ’s head.)

(Pulling, grabbing, holding him down-

So yeah, he doesn't like when people brush against him, doesn't like when they come up from behind him, doesn't like unexpected touches, even the nice, harmless ones.

(It makes JJ’s skin prickle, tingling unpleasantly until he wants to rip it off from his bones.)

And it's really fucking messed up, because JJ was always better at doing than talking.

(It’s easier to show what he means than trying to talk about it.)

Anyway.

He can't really do anything about it, and his friends have made peace with it a long time ago, so JJ just kind of lives with it and tries to ignore how hurt Kie looks when he pulls away from her, or that looks Pope gets when he flinches away from him when they're being a bit too rowdy.

It's just how it is, you know?

KIE

“I can't believe you just did that!” Kie half yells. “God, JJ that was disgusting.” She continues, and JJ winks at her.

(He's drunk.)

(They all are.)

“It was a bet, what did you want me to do?” He slurs, hands flapping in the air.

“You just drank a shot of vinegar and ketchup, Jesus.”

“It really don't understand how you're still alive.” Pope comments beside her, and John B snorts, clapping one hand on JJ’s back. JJ smiles brightly at him, and he's got some ketchup on the side of his cheek.

She reaches out without thinking about it, wanting to wipe it away.

(It's a stupid move, and sober Kie would never do it.)

(JJ doesn't like being touched, she knows that.)

JJ flinches hard, pulling back.

(It's suddenly dead silent.)

“Shit.” She whispers to no one in particular, dropping her hand back to her side.

(JJ isn't looking at her.)

(He isn't looking at anyone.)

Then he materializes a cigarette out of nowhere, and he's grinning to John B.

“Dare you to close your eyes and eat whatever I make.” John B hesitates.

(He's staring at JJ.)

(It really feels like Kie shouldn't be watching this.)

(Pope looks awkward as fuck as well.)

Then the moment is gone, and John B is smiling again and Kie watches JJ relax.

(It's subtle, the way JJ moves.)

(But it's how JJ and John B work.)

“That's not fair, you knew what you were gonna drink!” John B whines and JJ is still grinning.

“Sounds like you're afraid.”

“Never.”

“I wouldn't do it.” Pope says, and JJ glances at him.

“How cowardly of you.”

“I'm just sayin’, I've seen the cabinets. There's only mold in there.” JJ wiggles his brows and John B groans.

“We'll have to take you to the hospital for food poisoning.” Kie says and JJ laughs again and it feels good.

(Kie can ignore the way JJ isn't looking at her.)

(It was her mistake.)

JJ ends up making a sandwich with mold on the bread, garlic and jalapeños.

“Open up, JB.” JJ says. John B is sitting on the counter of the kitchen at the Chateau, his bandana tied over his eyes.

“Gross, it's so gross.” Kie makes a puking sound, which makes Pope snort.

“No, guys, is it that bad?” John B asks.

“Nah, bro, it's haute cuisine, I'm telling you.” JJ laughs and John B flips him off. “Open up now, be a good boy.”

“That's worse than the food.” Pope says dryly and Kie watches as John B takes takes a bite of the sandwich and starts chewing.

“Oh God.” He says around and a mouthful of food and Kie is so sure he's going to throw up, but he doesn't, instead he swallows and then rips off the bandana and glares at JJ.

“Fuck you.”

“You made me drink ketchup!”

“That was so fucking disgusting.” John B says and JJ hands him and send glass of water. He drinks it rapidly and then takes the cigarette JJ is offering.

(Kie used to be jealous, of the way they just seem to get each other.)

(Of how they just move around each other without even having to think about it.)

“Excellent performance, John B.”

“I really fuckin’ hate you sometimes.” JJ winks, blows him a kiss, and then they make their way back in the living room.

“Want to watch a movie?” Kie asks, and receives a series of affirmative groans and sounds, and they all settle on the couch.

She ends up between Pope and John B, JJ being on John B’s either side as usual.

She opens Netflix and starts scrolling, as they try to decide on something to watch.

(It's always a struggle, they all like different things.)

They settle for Friends, which is pretty neutral, even if Kie has seen it hundreds of times.

(It's still a good show.)

They watch four episodes, and then Kie shuts John B’s computer close.

“I should get going.” She says and looks over at Pope, who also nods.

“Yeah-

“Shhh.” John B says, bringing a finger over to his lips. Kie eyes him weirdly, then she spots JJ beside John B.

He's sleeping, mouth hanging open and head resting on John B’s shoulder.

“Oh.”

(And it's really an oh moment.)

(Well that's new.)

(Expect, that it clearly isn't, because John B doesn't look surprised one bit.)

“See you tomorrow?” John B whispers and Kie nods dumbly, eyes still on JJ.

(He looks peaceful.)

“Yeah.” Pope replies and then he gets up and so does Kie, grabbing her things quickly and silently.

(She pretends to not see when John B brushes JJ’s hair away from his forehead.)

She waves John B goodbye and then Pope closes the door after them.

(She definitely didn't hear JJ whispering a soft hi when he woke up.)

(And she absolutely didn't hear John B reply.)

(‘Let's go to bed, I'm exhausted.’)

POPE

Pope can tell it’s a bad day the second he enters in the Chateau.

(He could hear JJ yelling from outside the door.)

“Can you fuckin’ believe those Kooks? They really think they can-

He stops midrant when he spots Pope.

Pope waves at them.

(Why is he so awkward?)

“Hey, Pope.” John B greets him, and JJ nods in his direction, busy lighting a cigarette.

“What happened?” Pope asks, and JJ scoffs.

John B is sprawled on the couch, and JJ walks up to him, quite literally ripping his hawaiian shirt open to reveal a couple of bruises blooming on his side.

“They jumped him.” JJ says.

(Pope can almost see the anger rolling off him in waves.)

(JJ always goes full psycho when John B gets hurt.)

“JJ-

“You shut up, John B, you didn’t even tell me!”

“Yeah, because I knew you’d go fuckin’ crazy like this-

“They jumped-

“I know, Jesus, I was there.” JJ scoffs again, and now they’re glaring at each other, and Pope really think he shouldn’t be here.

(It feels private, for some reason.)

(Maybe it’s the way JJ and John B just keep staring at each other.)

(Like, Pope’s right there, hello?)

“You okay, JB?” Pope asks, and John B looks at him, and JJ is pacing now, fingers twitching.

“Yeah, it’s not even that bad.” John B replies, and Pope nods.

“Who did it?”

“Rafe and Kelce.”

“I’m gonna get them back, though, just wait.” JJ comments, eyes dark.

“JJ- Jesus fuckin’ Christ, will you stop? You’re giving me anxiety.” JJ stops dead in his track then, glancing at John B.

“Fine.” He drops on the couch beside John B’s, on his good side and Pope follows him out of instinct.

He sits on JJ’s other side.

(Pope’s careful to leave some space between them.)

(JJ shifts towards John B anyway.)

“Fuckin’ Kooks.” JJ grumbles, whipping out the necessities to roll a blunt.

(Pope watches him work, practiced fingers moving quickly.)

(It’s kind of interesting to watch.)

(He also watches John B put an arm around JJ’s shoulder.)

(And watches JJ lean into him.)

(It’s subtle, but Pope doesn’t miss it.)

“Where’s Kie?” JJ asks once he’s done, and Pope shakes his head.

“She has a shift at the Wreck.” Pope replies, and JJ nods, shrugging. He lights up and the smell of weed feel the air.

(Pope might be getting high just by standing close to JJ.)

JJ takes the first drag, then hands it to John B and they keep passing it back and forth for a while.

“Want some?” JJ asks at some point, and Pope shakes his head like always.

(JJ’s eyes are rimmed.)

“Suit yourself.” He replies, taking a long drag. “Want to watch Rick and Morty?” He asks, and John B nods, but neither of them move, so Pope figure it’s on him to go get the computer.

He stands up.

“Bedroom?” He asks, and John B nods, eyes closed and head thrown back.

He walks in the room, and then hesitates on the door for a second.

(JJ’s fingers are brushing through John B’s hair, now.)

(Smoking always softens him a bit.)

Pope clears his voice, but JJ doesn’t stop, though he does look up.

“Choking to death?” He asks, and Pope rolls his eyes.

“Not yet.” He replies, going back to the couch.

(Maybe he should just go home.)

(It feels like he’s third wheeling, which is really fucking weird, because this is regular John B and JJ.)

“Well, are you gonna turn it on or are you just gonna stare at it?” JJ asks, and John B laughs beside him, so Pope blinks himself back in the moment and opens the computer.

(It’s fine.)

“Preferences?” Pope asks and his elbow brushes against JJ.

(Pope feels him shiver.)

“Gotta watch the last three episodes of the last season.” JJ says, voice loud.

(And he pulls back, shifting away.)

(Closer to John B.)

(JJ doesn’t look at him.)

(It’s okay, Pope understands.)

“You got it.” He says instead, and feels JJ relax again, leaning back.

JOHN B

John B is not surprised when he finds JJ standing on the door of the Chateau, blood trickling down from the side of his face, and a grin plastered on his lips.

(John B doesn’t buy it for one second.)

(JJ looks like he might pass out at any second.)

“Christ-

“Hey, man, what’s up? Thought I’d stop-

“JJ, what happened?” He asks and he lets JJ in.

(It’s a stupid question, John B already knows.)

JJ stumbles to the couch and falls on it like a dead weight.

“Oh nothing, you know how it, just got a bit roughed up-

“Jesus, JJ.” He says, running one hand through his hair, and JJ’s smile falters.

“I-

“Let me see?” He asks before JJ can spew some more bullshit. JJ smirks.

(John B just wishes he would stop pretending for a second and just-

“At least buy me dinner first.”

(It drives John B crazy.)

(JJ does.)

(John B hates him.)

(No, you don’t.)

“On God, JJ, just-

“Okay, fine. Chill, it’s nothing.”

(It’s not nothing.)

(It’s so far from nothing.)

“We need to clean these up.” JJ nods, then, smiles gone from his face, and he’s not really looking at John B.

John B grabs a wet towel from the bathroom and some disinfectant and sits down beside JJ.

(Leaves a space between them.)

(It’s a delicate situation.)

“Can I?” He asks and JJ nods, a cigarette already burning between his lips.

“Yeah.”

He flinches anyway when John B’s fingers brush against him.

(John B can read in his eyes.)

(Instinct kicking in, telling JJ to run, the need to get away, to protect himself.)

(John B can read it in his body, in the way JJ moves.)

(Tensed muscle, ready to sprint, the nervous tapping of his fingers, eyes shifting, alert, on guard.)

(John B wants to tell him that he can relax now, that he’s home, that he’s safe.)

(He doesn’t.)

Instead he tries to not touch JJ, tries to be fast.

When he’s done he pulls back, and some of the tension seems to leave JJ’s body.

(Jesus.)

“Water?” John B asks and he’s already moving to hand a bottle of water to JJ. He takes it with a nod, downing it all it one go.

“Thanks.”

“Of course.” John B sits back down beside him.

(Tries to not stare too hard at him.)

(Tan skin under purples stains.)

(His eyes are so blue.)

(It’s really unfair that JJ still looks so good, even bruised as he is.)

(Not the time, John B, Jesus.)

“Want to talk about it?” He asks, because JJ has been quiet for a while, and it’s unsettling.

“No.” JJ says, closing his eyes and blowing out the smoke.

(John B watches his throat bob, watches his lips part.)

“Okay.” He says.

(There’s no point in pushing, JJ will tell him eventually.)

“Bed?” He asks instead, and JJ nods, getting up with a winch. He’s breathing heavily now, lips pressed together. “JJ-

“Don’t.” JJ’s voice is low, dangerous.

(Bad night.)

“Yeah, okay, yeah.”

They make their way in the bathroom, and it takes all of John B’s willpower to not scoop JJ up and carry him to bed as if they just got married.

(Somehow, he doesn’t think JJ would appreciate that.)

They get under the blankets and John B turns off the light and really wants to reach out.

(Doesn’t dare to.)

(Not right now.)

So instead, he stares at the ceiling, and waits.

He hears JJ shift around for a few minute, then he curses quietly and John B looks at him, and JJ is curled on himself on the edge of the bed.

“JJ?” He whispers.

(He looks smaller than he should.)

JJ doesn’t reply, but he does turn around with another groan and a curse and suddenly he’s much closer.

(Even in the darkness, John B can make out the profile of his face, the gentle curve of his top lip, the strong like of his jaw, hair falling over his eyes.)

JJ doesn’t say anything, but John B knows.

(They’ve been doing this for years.)

So he turns on his side, and so does JJ and John B puts one arm around his waist, pulling him close, closer-

(JJ smells of smoke and blood.)

“You’re home.” He says, because that’s as much as JJ will accept.

(He wants to tell him that he’s safe now, that John B will protect him, that he’ll be okay-

(He knows it’s hard for JJ to believe it.)

(One day.)

He feels JJ relax against him, a little sigh escaping past his lips.

(Good.)

(JJ is warm and tangible and safe.)

“Yeah.” JJ whispers back, and John B feels him fall asleep after that, so he closes his eyes too and lets the darkness pull him in.

#jj obx #john b obx #obx #pope obx #Kie obx #JJ Maybank #john booker routledge #jj/john b #like lowkey #my writing #prompt #obx fic

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mood-swings-for-days · 5 years

Text

Thunderstorm Ι Ch. 1 Ι JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Werewolf!au

Word count: 5, 283

Warnings: Characters in a less than healthy state of mind, violence, slight body horror, an addicted to cigarettes Jungkook (don’t do drugs, kids!)

Summary: An accidental encounter triggers a series of events that shatter your monotonous life. A new relationship starts to develop, following the stages of a thunderstorm.

Note: Written under the influence of beautiful music

1 2 3 4

Chapter 1: Wind

The heavy downpour served as white noise to you. Dull jazz seeped all around you and into the cracks of your conscious as you stared blankly at the floor. The clock behind you ticked rhythmically, but it felt like time was no longer a thing. The aisles were void of customers for hours and a while ago you had started wondering if the minimum wage was worth all the time you’d wasted in this tiny shop. Days were getting duller as the months passed, having fallen into the same simple routine, you had become so impassive. Long ago you stopped counting the minutes until your shift ended, because you had nowhere to go anyway, which resulted in you going home late on multiple occasions. Your roommate never questioned it, not even when you came back well past midnight. You two didn’t talk much anyway.

The small bell ringing as the door opened brought your mind back into the room, but you didn’t look up.

“Good evening.”

The customer didn’t bother to return your greeting and proceeded to walk between the aisles of overpriced goods. His wet shoes made a rhythmic squelching sound along the tiles. Absentmindedly you thought to mop the floors before you locked up for the night. Some moments later the customer came over to where you were sitting behind the cash register. With a dry exhale you pushed yourself from the chair you were slumped over in. The customer pushed a bottle of water and some cheap cigarettes toward you. His hands were bony, pale, and raw and bruised along the knuckles. Out of instinct you looked up to see his face. He was at least a foot taller than you, dressed in all black and completely soaked in rainwater. His dripping black bangs fell into his eyes and he wasn’t really trying to make eye contact, instead staring down at his stuff on the counter. Over all he looked like an average twenty-something year old dude, nothing in particular struck you as odd except for his beaten up hands. You scanned his things without much contemplation.

“That’ll be 6,75.”

He dug into the pocket of his jeans and threw a damp, slightly crumpled ten-dollar bill on the counter. You reached into the cash register for his change as he started opening the pack of cigarettes before even exiting the store. Clamping one between his lips, he pocketed the $3,25 you gave him and turned to walk out. The door was halfway open when he stopped. The sound of pouring rain from outside becoming even louder.

“Shouldn’t you be going home?” You heard his voice for the first time. Turning to look at the clock, it was ten thirty and your shift had ended over an hour ago. The bell rang as the door fell shut. You watched his blurry silhouette through the glass as he lit his cigarette and disappeared into the rain.

In the next thirty minutes’ no one else came in while you moped the floor and counted the shop turnover. In another ten minutes you had locked the place up and were headed home in your 1972 ford f100. The windshield wipers fighting the onslaught of rainwater was about the only dynamic thing in your drive back until you noticed a guy walking down your side of the road several feet down. You recognized him to be the customer from earlier. He was walking with his hands in his pockets, completely defenseless against the downpour. As you were approaching him, something came over you. Your truck passed him and slowed down to a stop. A few moments later he peeked through your passenger side window with a cocked brow. You reached over the gear stick and opened the door for him.

“It’s raining.” You pointed, hesitating what to say “We’re headed the same way and figured you needed a ride.”

The guy looked at you blankly for a few seconds as the heavy rain seeped into the interior of your car. The longer he measured you up, the more you wondered if offering him a ride was a bad idea in the first place. He took his undoubtedly wet cigarette out of his mouth and flicked it behind your car.

“I appreciate it, but don’t you think offering random strangers a ride is a bit reckless.”

You blinked at him, fully realizing he was right, but you shrugged anyway.

“Are you getting in or not? My car’s getting wet.”

With a chuckle he climbed into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut. You started your truck back up and proceeded to drive without another word. The stranger rolled down his window and lit another cigarette, a dry one. The smell of smoke and wet asphalt flooded the car. He was leaning his elbow against the open window and taking frequent drags from his cigarette, looking at the forest of pine trees that was lining the side of the road.

“Sorry ‘bout that, but I was dying for a smoke. My last two got pretty messed up cause the rain.” He informed you and you didn’t really mind. The cold air seeping from outside was pleasant on your skin and there was something nostalgic about the smell of cigarette smoke inside this car.

“My name’ s Jungkook.” He offered “In case you were wondering.”

“Y/n”

Aside from that little exchange, the car ride was mostly silent. Jungkook kept looking out the window while you sneaked glances at him from the corner of your eye. You turned down the road circling the forest and headed for your house. He never mentioned where he was going and somehow you forgot to ask.

“So, where do you need me to drop you off?”

Jungkook glanced at you briefly and shrugged. “Anywhere around here’s fine. I’m not gonna make you drive me home.”

It was a couple miles down the road from your house when you stopped. You turned your attention towards Jungkook and found him looking at you already. By the time you arrived the downpour had somewhat subsided.

“Thank you.” He said simply but made no move to try and get out of the car.

You nodded, not really knowing what you were supposed to say. Picking him up off the road was kind of a spur of the moment decision, but you didn’t really want to tell him that. He was looking at you calmly with big brown eyes and a smile. For a few moments you allowed yourself to examine his face. There wasn’t anything spectacular about his features per se, but he was handsome in a weirdly alluring way. You chalked it up to your perpetual lack of contact with the opposite sex. Still, you couldn’t help the way your eyes followed his tongue as it poked out to wet his bottom lip. Now that the window on his side had been rolled up you could smell the rain and smoke on his clothes, but there was also something else, something particularly masculine about his scent. It wasn’t cologne and it most definitely wasn’t sweat, but it smelled familiar. There were a lot of little things about this guy that you seemed to pick up on. It really had been a while, you thought, since you last looked at a guy like that. Jungkook also seemed to look at you with interest as the thoughts stumbled around in your brain. The smile he wore a second ago had given way to a somewhat unreadable expression. He blinked once, twice and leaned toward you. Your breath hitched when his cold lips touched yours. It’s like static burned you for a moment and you flinched. When he pulled back you were left with the taste of cigarette smoke on your mouth.

“Thanks,” he repeated “but don’t ever pick a random person up off the road again, no matter how hard it’s raining. Others might not have your best intentions in mind and you never know what might be sitting in your passenger seat.”

You just kept looking at him wordlessly. You couldn’t decide if the kiss or the gentle scolding he was giving you bewildered you more. Jungkook sighed softly and reached for the door.

“Goodnight.” He offered for the last time and exited the car

“Night.” You mumbled quietly, but he heard you. You followed his movements as he rounded the front of your truck. In the headlights his eyes flashed for a brief second before he walked off. Just like an animal’s eyes, you thought absentmindedly as you watched his back disappear the further he went. You just stood still until you could no longer see him and then looked down at where he was sitting just a minute ago. The worn out leather of the seat was still very much wet. Your mind went blank and you just stared at the wet spot his body had left. Suddenly your desire to figure out what happened fizzled out. Passively you reached for the key and restarted your truck.

When you got home your roommate was fast asleep on the couch with a movie still running on TV. You turned it off, ate a bowl of cereal for dinner and quickly fell asleep to the sound of raindrops against your window.

Your sleep was far from peaceful though. Months ago your dreams had disappeared and every morning you woke from a forgetful slumber. Tonight however images of dark looming pines and a voice carried by the wind haunted the minutes of unconsciousness you managed to obtain between tossing and turning. Your boots were sinking into the muddy grass, lining the forest floor. The wind felt painfully cold against your bare skin as you looked around for the source of the incoherent whispers you were hearing. Seconds later you were sitting up in your bed thoroughly disconcerted and making sure you were alone in the room. Laying back down you blacked out again almost immediately. Back into the woods, the wind was howling all around you, warning of an upcoming thunderstorm. The full moon kept coming in and out from between the clouds and in the brief moments of clarity you frantically looked around. The tall pines swayed against the force of the wind, throwing moving shadows that were suspiciously reminiscent of the human form. You just kept running blindly, being driven by some internal force to keep looking. The damp air around you was both freezing and suffocating. Your breath was coming out in white puffs the faster you ran, slipping on moss and stumbling over your own feet. And that damned whispering could still be heard all around you. The wind only seemed to amplify it. Abruptly, you stopped. Where were you going exactly? Were you running to where you assumed the exit of the forest to be or were you running towards the supposed source of the whispering? Your escape came unexpectedly when you opened your eyes for the umpteenth time that night. Your eyelids felt so heavy and your body was aching, your limbs felt cold and heavy. With a trembling exhale you stared out your window. Just beyond your back yard you could see the very forest that made your night so restless. By now the rain had stopped, the sky was clearing and just behind the pines you could see dawn approaching. A heavy yawn tore from your lungs and you couldn’t resist the fatigue anymore. Falling against the pillow you slipped into deep, dreamless sleep.

The next few weeks trickled by uneventful as ever. Your faithful routine once again becoming inescapable. In the morning you went to work, doing twelve hour shifts five days a week, sometime around nine or ten you went home, ate whatever was most convenient at the time and fell asleep. In comparison to your time awake, your dreams were wild. Running around the woods for hours on end, clinging to every little sound or movement and waking up on multiple occasions with chilled skin and goosebumps all over. On your days off your body desperately tried to recover from all the sleepless nights. You frequently passed out all over the place. On the kitchen table, on the couch while watching a movie, in bed every time you laid down, and even on the toilet a few times, literally anywhere you stayed immobile for an extended period of time. All the sleep however had the opposite effect on you. Instead of getting some rest you felt like the exhaustion was crushing you. Human interactions started to sound like white noise to you and your vision was blurry, so much so you stopped driving your truck to and from work in fear of losing control and crashing. You took the 45-minute walk twice every day with a blank stare ahead and zero sense of your surroundings. The damned woods kept you company, lining your periphery with all their rustling branches and unseen inhabitants.

Soon enough the new university year was about to start, reminding you why exactly you chose to stay in this wilting part of the world in the first place. However, starting your lectures didn’t exactly bring with them the sense of purpose you were hoping to obtain. The only things that added to your routine were a whole bunch more school work to do and a certain bubbly character to accompany you in what little free time you had left. Your childhood best friend was back from her trip abroad to start another year at university. Your obscure dreams never ceased to keep you on the brink of existence and anything you tried to do took twice as long as it normally would, which left you with very little free time and patience to deal with Yara.

You two were huddled up in a tight booth at the back of your local café, sitting opposite each other with your laptops open and a lengthy MS Word document on your screen.

“Writing essays is damn near impossible!” Yara pouted and sipped on her sugary latte.

You directed your attention toward her over the laptop screen. Her short, pumpkin-orange hair was held back by two bow-shaped clips on either side. It stood out against her pale skin and fluffy white sweater. You followed the carmine smudge her lips left on the rim of her drink and couldn’t help but think how the sugary beverage perfectly matched her sweet attitude and appearance. You on the other hand had picked up the habit of drinking copious amounts of bitter black coffee in your attempts keep your sanity.

“You know,” Yara picked up a different tone to her voice “ever since I came back you’ve been acting kind of…” she paused to study your face for a moment “kind of off, I guess. You’re like a shell of your former self.”

A shell of your former self? Yeah, that was one way to put it, you chuckled. Yara was staring at you with the intensity of a stubborn preschooler. A hint of irritation clenched in your chest at that expression she wore. How were you supposed to tell her that some random guy kissed you after you picked him up off the road in the dead of night and you’ve been having this oddly specific dream disrupting your sleep when she was looking at you like that. To be honest you didn’t think the two were connected in any particular way just because they happened to happen on the same day. The look on her face however was really starting to annoy you. Her cheeks were slightly puffed out, lips pursed and eyes narrowed with the silliest kind of determination. Deep down you knew it was only her ever insatiable curiosity that drove her to ask about your life.

“What are you scowling at me for?” Yara grumbled without breaking eye contact.

“How about you mind your own fucking business for once!” Your built up irritation suddenly exploded in her face. The annoying look of determination quickly disappeared and for once Yara seemed to be caught off guard. She stared at you wordlessly and you were already starting to regret your outburst.

“Yara, I -”

“Y/n, you can yell at me if that helps, but something really is wrong with you.” You couldn’t meet her eyes anymore; guilt was eating away at your conscious. When did you become like this? Was your life that pathetic that you felt threatened by your best friend trying to catch up because you had nothing to offer but an outlandish story about some guy and a stupid dream? Maybe you were jealous because Yara had her life together? It was your own fault for choosing to live your life so monotonously, waiting for some magical event to break up your routine. It was your own fault for deciding to deprive yourself from things like traveling, human interactions and meaningful relationships. And it wasn’t like you were building your future either. You were simply trapped by your insecurities and fear of ‘what ifs’, fear of commitment and at the same time inability to let go.

“Hey, don’t freeze up like that!” Yara’s gentle touch pulled you from your destructive self-criticism. “If you feel uncomfortable, I won’t ask again. I’m just worried, because you seem to be in pretty rough shape.”

The genuine warmth you found when you finally looked into her eyes felt like a punch to the gut. There you went again, distancing yourself from the person who had your best intentions in mind. Yara had been with you through it all, you realized, and she was interested in your because she was your friend, not because she was being nosy or trying to poke fun at you. Seriously, what was wrong with you to immediately feel threatened?

“I’m sorry.” You struggled and failed to mask the tremble in your voice.

“Stop beating yourself up over it.” You flinched “That’s not a healthy state of mind to be in, believe me.”

You breathed s heavy sigh, but decided to be honest with her.

“I’ve been having some trouble sleeping lately…” You started a bit hesitantly “… There’s this weird dream that I keep waking up from and I can’t seem to get rid of it. It’s really stupid, I keep hearing someone whispering and then I start running through the woods, and I don’t know where I’m going, and I keep waking up before I can figure it out. Every time I fall asleep everything starts all over again and I’m sick of it. I wake up at least 5 or 6 times every night and it’s been driving me insane for weeks.”

Yara quietly waited for you to finish your rant. All throughout your gaze kept bouncing between her and the table in front of you, checking for any sign of mockery, but it never came.

“Have you ever tried to go out there?” She suggested out of nowhere

“Go out where?”

“Out in the woods.” Yara shrugged “Dreams are a form of expression of our subconscious desires, you know. Your dream seems straightforward enough and I don’t really think there’s some hidden meaning behind it.”

You were looking at her suspiciously. “You know there’s bears and stuff in the woods, right?”

“Look, I wouldn’t be suggesting this if I had a better idea. Next time you wake up from that dream, get some bear spray and a flashlight and go out there for a bit. I mean, if you have a better idea, I’m listening.”

“I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about any solutions, so I guess this is something.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll come over. When you decide to go out there, wake me up and I’ll be waiting for you to come back.”

“That could work.” You nodded “There’s something else I want to tell you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Yara smiled

“The day my dreams started… God, I hate the way that sounds, but back when it started I accidentally stayed late at work. It was raining really heavily and this guy came in the store and -”

Your words died in your throat when you saw a familiar face walk in through the door of the coffee shop. You hadn’t seen him in over a month, but there he was in all his dark and looming glory. Jungkook walked over to the barista with his hands in his pockets and you hated the way your adrenaline spiked at the sight of him. Yara was staring at you in silent bewilderment, but you couldn’t muster the strength to look away from him.

“That’s him. That’s the guy I’m talking about.”

“Who?!” Yara shrieked as she whipped her orange head around to scan the vicinity of the café.

Upon hearing the unnaturally loud noise, Jungkook slowly turned around to look for the source. His eyes quickly zeroed in on Yara blatantly staring at him. They had a brief stare down, during which you just wanted to crawl under the table and out of sight. Just as suddenly as before Yara Jolted her head back around to look at you instead.

“Isn’t that… oh, what’s his face? Jeon Jungkook?”

But you couldn’t answer her because, now that Yara wasn’t serving as a distraction, Jungkook’s attention had shifted to you. He looked good, better that the first time you saw him anyway. This time he was dry, wearing simple torn blue jeans and a long black jacket. His hair was covered by a beanie and there was a seemingly empty backpack swinging on his shoulder. Jungkook picked up his drink from the counter and turned to leave, offering you a small nod as a parting gift. Your eyes followed him out the door and through the window. Just like he did over a month ago, he stopped to pull a cigarette out and light it before proceeding to walk away.

“Sooo,” Yara started “what’s up with you and that Jungkook guy?”

Embarrassment tinted your cheeks red upon realizing you had been caught. Yara was grinning at you and you could practically see the onslaught of questions that were bubbling up in her throat. By the time you started speaking she was barely holding back.

“It’s nothing special, calm down.” You attempted to counteract her excitement. “He was my last customer for the night and while I was driving back home I saw him walking down the road in the rain. I don’t know why, but I gave him a ride. That’s all. The weird thing is that my dreams started that same night. I don’t think it’s related, but I thought I’d mention it anyway.”

You decided to skip the part where he kissed you, because you weren’t sure what that was about.

“That’s it?” Yara stared at you with the most disappointed face “And here I was thinking you two hooked up in your dad’s old truck.”

“Told you it’s nothing special.” You sipped on your now cold coffee and the bitterness of it gave you chills. You didn’t even like coffee in the first place. “Anyway, how do you know him?”

Yara shrugged “I know pretty much everyone in our university.” Upon seeing your confused expression, she continued “Yeah, I even noticed him attending some of our lectures. He always sneaks into class late. Dude’s a freaking magician, I can never catch him when he comes and goes. He’s pretty cute, but is also kinda weird and always keeps to himself. I’ve seen him hang out with very few people, I guess he has a tight friend circle or something.”

You just sat back and listened in awe to all the information she was feeding you about this guy you’ve never seemed to notice before. Since when was Yara this well educated about people’s lives, you wondered.

“He’s not much of a player too, despite what people think. I heard he’s hooked up with two or three girls that were older than him and already graduated by now. That’s about it.”

Yara nodded in satisfaction when she finished her little resume of Jungkook’s history on campus. You guess she was people watching every time you assumed she was spacing out. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you at the thought of Yara eavesdropping on people’s conversations and keeping tabs on people she never even talked to.

You two stayed in the coffee shop until closing time, rekindling your relationship and laughing wholeheartedly at each other. After you left, you ate doughnuts for dinner and went back to your place, determined to watch movies until you both passed out.

A random horror movie was playing on the TV and you seemed to be the only one paying attention. Yara was buried somewhere under an ungodly amount of blankets, dozing off repeatedly but trying her damnedest to stay awake. Her half-conscious face was bobbing up and down and she released yawn after yawn until she finally gave in. She fell face first into the blankets and started snoring softly. For a while you tried to follow suit, but sleep never came by to take you. Still you stubbornly squeezed your eyes shut and tried to find the most comfortable position. On TV the movie was still playing so you decided you might as well watch it. Maybe it could work some magic and put you to sleep. The movie was about a train breaking down in the middle of the woods. As you watched the looming drone shots of the foggy forest you couldn’t escape the weird feeling crawling up your chest. Overwhelming curiosity was eating you alive and making you excited at the thought of finally figuring out what was pulling you into the woods. Perhaps this was what was keeping you awake. A part of you wanted to just get up and go already, but, as stupid as it may sound, the other part felt like it wasn’t right to do it without being woken up from your dream. You felt like a little kid being told that Santa wasn’t coming unless they were asleep. It was so stupid but you still hesitated to get up.

Some howling returned your attention to the movie. You didn’t realize it was a werewolf movie when you picked it. You hated this kind of stuff so you immediately reached for the remote and switched it off. The sound of howling gave you the chills and you didn’t want to deal with this bullshit tonight. Blocking the sound from your memory you curled in on yourself and pulled the blankets tightly around you. Not soon enough your eyelids started getting heavy.

Your dreams were unnervingly tranquil. Instead of the frantic running you were used to, there was only darkness. Thick, unmoving darkness rendered your eyesight useless. At your sides, your fingers twitched nervously. The only familiarity presented itself in the form of a cold breeze, brushing against your bare skin and raising goosebumps in its wake. You strained your ears for even the slightest noise, but you heard nothing. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, your limbs felt too heavy to move and your heart was hammering in your chest.

Smoke? You sniffed the air around you. Cigarette smoke. The wind was carrying it, swirling it around you and blowing it away. Immediately, you thought about Jungkook and felt mildly irritated. Of course the only time you wanted to experience the damned dream this would happen. You blamed Yara and the amount of personal information about Jungkook she dumped on you earlier. A smile stretched across your face and you let your guard down. You couldn’t get mad because you finally had normal human interactions in your life.

You felt warmth slide up your arms. You flinched but couldn’t move. It was the oddest feeling because it felt like human touch, but you couldn’t sense a human presence. It caressed you from your palms, all the way to your shoulders and back. Moving down your spine slowly, it reached your waist and gently tugged you backward. Your shoulders were met with something firm that emanated even more warmth. Everything felt strangely natural, the touch felt familiar on your body and you seemed to relax right into it. The smell of cigarette smoke was stronger now, blended with the scent of fresh linen and something sweet. You inhaled it in big gulps, almost burning the fragrance into your mind. The more you leaned into it, the presence behind you became more solid, more real. Cold breath spilled along your neck and chest and you didn’t even try to stop the prominent chill that made your spine bow against the firm body behind you. Your hands shifted from your sides to reach backward, your fingers came in contact with a rough fabric you recognized to be denim. Your shoulders were pressed into something much softer like a hoodie, you guessed. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to turn around, but you were scared that this lovely feeling would vanish if you did. So you kept your movements soft and slow, carefully sliding your hand up your chest. You felt electricity prick at your fingertips the closer you got. Agonizingly slow they slipped over the swell of your breast, over your ribs and collarbone and up your throat and jaw. You held your breath the closer you got, just a little bit more, you reached back. Your fingers flinched when they made contact with hot, silky smooth skin. You ventured further, your palm sliding shyly along it, shaking slightly. Your hand was wrapping around the back of someone’s neck, you realized when your fingers touched soft, short hair. The person leaned into your hesitant touch and for the first time you felt his chest expand with a deep inhale against your back. If you focused hard enough, you could even feel his rapid heartbeat onto your shoulder blade. You couldn’t see or hear a thing but, God, you other senses were going into overdrive. Every cell in your body tingled in anticipation of the slightest stimulation and this person’s scent was so pungent all around, you could taste it in your throat.

A howl tore through the matter of your fantasy. The sound came so suddenly through the silence, that it made tears pool at the corners of your eye. Your body was completely stripped of warmth when a gust of wind slammed into you from behind and left you shivering. Cold droplets started to rattle against your shoulders and when you opened your eyes you were once again faced with the image of tall looming pines. The whispering was also coming back in full force and it only seeped to grow louder the longer you listened. The sudden onslaught of noise made tears stream down your face. Just as the whispers started to morph into screams, you felt a suffocating pain erupt in your throat. Instinctively you squeezed your hands against it until you realized, there was blood pouring out between your fingers.

Your body shot up with a screeching inhale. Your hands unconsciously palmed at your throat. You stared right ahead into the darkness of your living room, everything was just as you had left it, Yara was cuddled up under her blanket pile, undisturbed. Your body was trembling and heavy tears rolled down your cheeks and into your lap.

“Fuck this.” You croaked in a tiny voice “What the fuck just happened?!”

You turned to look out the window. The first rays of sunlight were starting to creep over the horizon. One thing’s for sure, you weren’t going into the forest anytime soon.

...

Disclaimer: I didn’ come up with the name Yara myself, but instead got influenced by @kinktae ‘s story. Other than that the character has been made up by me. Just giving credit where it’s due.

#bts #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #bts fanfction #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts scenarios #bts drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bangtan #bangtan boys #smut #angst #ggukienet

273 notes · View notes

twdeadfanfic · 5 years

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Silent, fast, and lethal Pt.1

Daryl Dixon x Reader

*Summary: The reader is very good at sneaking, moving fast and silent, lethal with her knives. She lost her camp and is wanfering the woods when she finds Maggie and Glenn being attacked by some men and she helps them, sneaking not only on the men but also on Daryl, leaving everyone impressed with her skills, and she’s taken in into the prison. Badass but rather insecure reader and shy, confused Daryl.

Slow-burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, smoking, language and violence twd style. (Request turned mini-series of eight chapters)

4752 words

Chapters: 1/8

Link to masterlist with more stories in the info of this blog.

This story will be updated on Monday and Thursday.

Welcome to my new mini-series! I hope you’ll enjoy it! Let me know your thoughts!

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You joisted awake, heart beating hard, sitting up and grabbing your knife, looking around wildly. You were sure you had heard a walker getting trapped on the wire around your little camp, making the top cans you had attached to it rattle. You thought you’d even heard its growls. But it’d only been a nightmare. With a sigh, you got up and began to get your scarce things back into your backpack and to untie the wire to take it with you.

You didn’t stay for more than a day at the same place since you lost your camp three days ago, or maybe four. You were starting to lose the track of time. That had been your second camp. The first was a military one, at the beginning of everything, that was overrun by walkers. The people that had survived had taken you with them and after a couple of months on the run, setting camps here and there, you all found a nice spot deep in the woods to set a camp. The area was secluded and not many walkers stumbled into it, there was a stream close and rabbits were abundant. Life was good. Now you knew good things never lasted in this world. Your people were gone, and your nice camp was gone too.

A group of walkers had seemed to come out of nowhere, the bigger group you’d ever seen. You all had fought hard, had fought your best, but it was for nothing. They were too many, and they had overpowered you. You’d taken a look at your fallen friends and at the monsters, and you’d run away from there.

So there you were now, still in the woods, but you knew you couldn’t keep going like that. You were in badly need of supplies and shelter, but you didn’t know where to find them. And if you were honest, you weren’t sure you knew how to leave the woods. You didn’t have a map or a compass, and you were feeling rather lost.

Trying not to despair, you went to check the trap you had settled, finding it had caught a rabbit. You gave thanks to the friend who had taught you to do that, dead now, you would be starving by now if she hadn’t. You hang the rabbit to your belt for later and began walking, the same direction you’d been following for the last couple of days.

You’d been walking for a while through the woods when you heard some voices and noise coming from ahead. You didn’t know what to do, but finally you decided to check it. It could be dangerous, but it could be your chance at finding shelter too. You crouched down and approached, hiding into some bushes, moving silently, in case the people weren’t friendly.

You were pretty good at hiding and sneaking around, at moving without making noise or being noticed, you’d always been. You started doing it as a game when you were a little girl, playing hide and seek, or catch with your friends and also to spy on your parents, soon you were good at moving pretty quickly too. In your teens, it had helped you to sneak in and out of the house without your parents noticing it. As an adult, it came in handy when you began working as a private detective…fancy title to say that you followed and sneaked on people, taking compromising pictures of them for their scorned partners. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid rent.

Little did you know back then that now it’d be a life savior skill.

From your hiding spot, you saw a young asian man and a young woman with big green eyes on their knees, gagged and with their hands tied to their back. Two men were pointing their guns at them while others went through what you guessed were their bags, full of supplies.

You knew that kind of men. Raiders, murderers, you had encountered people like that before, some even had tried to steal from your people, a couple of times men like that had shown up in your camp, threatening you, but they had never come out of it unharmed or even alive. You’d never been the one to stop them, though, you’d never faced men, only walkers, but you needed to help that couple before the men killed them. You weren’t sure how to do it, though, you only had your knives and they had guns. They’d shoot you on sight.

You thought quick, took a deep breath, and jumped into action. You took a stone and threw it away, making sure to stay hidden. The men looked towards where it had landed, startled by the noise and the rustle of the bushes. When they looked away again, you threw another stone to the same place. The men looked towards the bushes again and that time you saw them talking between them before one of them went to check.

You moved silently, still hidden, until you got behind the man. You only had trained to do this with walkers, but you hoped it’d work the same with men. You made sure the other men weren’t looking and you acted quick, sinking your knife into the man's throat while placing your other hand over his mouth to keep him silent. You held him and made his body lie silently onto the ground, hidden by the bushes, and you moved away again just in time, the other two men looking around and noticing their friend missing.

They moved towards where the other man had disappeared and you waited for your moment. You moved around them, hidden and silent, until you were behind them without them noticing you. Once again you sank one of your knives into the throat of the closer one. The other turned to you and went to aim his gun, but you were fast, thanks to months of training, and you stabbed him and cut his throat before he could shot you.

You looked at the bodies. It was the first time you killed people, and you tried not to overthink it. You thought you should be feeling something, though, but you didn’t. Turning around, you went to the tied up couple, who were looking at you with wide, shocked eyes. “I’m going to help you”, you told them, but before you could go to them you hear someone else coming. Moving fast, you hid again behind a tree just in time to see a dangerous looking man approaching, a crossbow aimed in front of him, wild long hair falling over his eyes as he rushed towards the tied couple.

You thought he was one of the men who was going to kill the couple and so you left your hiding spot quickly but silently, making sure to get behind his back, and raised your knife.

The couple began shaking their heads and making noises that sounded like ‘noes’ through their gags, and so you stopped before stabbing him. Maybe this man wasn’t one of the bad guys? That made the man turn around and he seemed startled to find you there. He was fast too, dropping his crossbow and grabbing your wrist, trying to make you lower your knife. Shit, maybe you should have stabbed him. You lifted your free hand to try to punch him but he grabbed your arm and you only managed to scratch his face, his grip on you strong. He shoved you onto the floor, you landing on your knees, and he grabbed his crossbow before you could react.

“Don’t move!” He shouted to you, moving to free the couple but without stopping aiming at you.

“She helped us!” The woman said as soon as she was ungagged, the man next to her nodding. “Killed the men who got us.”

The man with the wild hair looked from the corpses of the men to you, lowering his crossbow. The woman reached her hand to you and reluctantly you took it, getting up.

“Thank you for saving us.” She told you, giving you a smile, noticing that you were nervous. “I’m Maggie, and this is Glenn, that’s Daryl. We were out scavenging and Daryl’d gone hunting when those men ambushed us.” You just nodded, silent, trying to decide if they were good people or not.

“Are you alone?” Glenn asked you softly and you nodded. “You don’t have a camp or anything?”

“My camp was overrun a couple of days ago…don't think anyone else made it…” You shrugged, feeling a lump in your throat as you were forced to remember it. They looked at each other, seeming to be able to communicate without words, before looking back at you.

“How many walkers have you killed?” Daryl asked you, out of the blue.

“Quite a few, I don’t know, why you care?” You looked at him weirdly.

“And how many people?” Glenn asked, and you guessed if it was a code or something. You were too tired to care.

“Those three.” You nodded to the dead men.

“Why?” It was Daryl again, and you rolled your eyes.

“Wasn’t evident? To help your friends.” You shrugged.

They looked at each other, seeming to have another of those silent conversations, and then Maggie nodded.

“We have a place,” Glenn began to explain. “A prison, but it’s a home. We live in there, it’s safe, it’s good. We’re a big group, we take in people who need it. You could come and join us, if you want.”

You probably should have thought it for longer than you did, you didn’t know those people and you could be running right into a trap, but you were painfully aware of how much you needed their help. Besides, they didn’t seem that bad. You nodded and it was settled, they began walking you to their place.

On the way there, Maggie told you a bit more about their community and the prison, but you were impressed anyway when you saw it, with the tall fences protecting it, the sturdy walls, the gardens and amount of people that you could see through the fences. It seemed impossible that a place like that could exist. Glenn noticed your wide, surprised eyes and he smiled, patting your back as they walked you into the prison.

You had to wait in an empty cellblock, in what they called a room but was pretty much a cell, while they talked to Rick, their leader. You’d caught a glimpse of him, he seemed serious and a bit dangerous, but not like a bad guy. You hoped. You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm while you waited.

Maggie came back alone, though you noticed Daryl following her not far. She gave you a smile and you relaxed a bit. “Rick said you can stay. We told him you saved us, that you’re a good one,” she said and you nodded, grateful. “We also told him how you sneaked on those men and on Daryl even, you’re skilled, you’ll be a big help on runs.”

“Thanks.” You murmured, blushing a bit.

“Let’s get you settled, okay?” Maggie patted your shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll show you around, get you some things.”

You thanked her again, you had lost most of your stuff when you ran away from your camp. You remembered the rabbit you had hanging from your belt and you handed it awkwardly to Maggie. At least you got something for those people who were taking you in.

“We’ll use it for tonight’s stew.” Maggie smiled kindly, taking the rabbit. She nodded at Daryl to get closer, noticing he was around, and gave him the rabbit, which he tied to the string he carried around his shoulder and in which he’d tied a few squirrels. He looked at you, but didn’t say anything and he walked away.

Maggie showed you around, and you were amazed at everything they had in that place, the food they grew, their running water. Incredible. You’d gotten pretty lucky. He introduced you to some people as you walked, and it was a bit overwhelming but they were all kind and nice to you. Finally, Maggie walked you to a cell which was to become your very own room. You couldn’t believe it.

“Thank you, really.” You told Maggie as you flopped down onto the bed, bouncing on it. When was the last time you’d sleep on a mattress? Before the apocalypse for sure.

“Do you need anything else?” She asked you kindly, and you shook your head, Maggie had already done enough. “Alright, I’ll leave you to rest for a bit, you can wash if you want, and feel free to use those clothes.” She pointed at the pile that someone had left you over a small bedside table.

“Thanks,” You said, genuinely and still a bit overwhelmed.

“See you for dinner in a couple of hours.” Maggie squeezed your shoulder softly and left you to get used to your new room and the place.

You were going through the clothes you’d been given when you heard a knock on the bars of the cell. You looked up and found Rick standing at the door. You’d been surprised at the leader of this place not talking to you personally, but you guessed he’d trusted Maggie, Glenn, and Daryl, and he’d wanted to give you time to settle down. It seemed it was time to speak now.

Your talk with Rick wasn’t long. He was inquisitive, but not suspicious, firm but also kind. After a few questions, some talk about each other, he welcomed you in, and also invited you to join a group that was going on a run in a couple of days.

Once it was time for dinner, you walked to the area where people were gathering and joined the queue. Two people were serving bowls of stew, and yours was handed by a woman with short, gray hair.

“Hi, you’re the new one, right? I’m Carol.” She greeted as she served the stew.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N, nice to meet you. Thanks for the stew.”

“Thanks for the rabbit, we used for the stew along with some Daryl squirrels.” She told you, and you nodded before leaving so the next person could have his stew.

You looked around at the long tables, people already sitting down. You saw Daryl was eating too, though not there but sat down on the stairs that led to another cellblock, and you thought he was looking at you. You waved at him shyly and he gave you a nod, dropping his gaze to the ground.

Maggie waved at you, signaling you to join her and pointing at an empty seat next to her, Glenn at her other side. Once you sat down she introduced you to his family, his father Hershel and her little sister Beth. They were all nice and kind, taking you in without any fuss, and you felt more than welcomed.

You ended up eating two bowls of stew after they told you it was okay, you hadn’t realized you had been starving until then. After dinner, you helped clean up everything and then you went back to your new room. You light up some candles to illuminate it and sat down on the bed, staring at the wall. You felt…you felt weird. This place was beyond nice, the people were nice, but it felt a bit surreal. And you still couldn’t believe you’d lost your people. That couple of days on the run, concentrated only on surviving, hadn’t allowed you to come to terms with it, and the reality of it all hit you now.

You hugged your knees to your chest, sniffing a bit. You were grateful for this place, you had gotten lucky. You just wished your people had gotten lucky like that too. None of you had ever imagined that such a big herd of walkers could show up out of the blue in your camp. But judging by the walkers you had seen at the outside of the prison fences, they seemed to be drawn to groups of people, and they were more and more each passing day.

You heard a noise close and you looked up, startled, before reminding yourself that you were safe behind fences and walls. It was Daryl, looking at you from outside the cell, and he muttered a sorry and turned around.

“No, wait.” You called after him, rubbing your eyes quick. “Come in.” Daryl seemed hesitant, but finally he walked into your cell, looking at the ground before looking up at you, and then back at the ground. You were waiting for him to say anything, but he didn’t. “You wanted something?” You ventured.

Daryl looked at you, seeming to think it for a couple of seconds before pointing at your arms. “I’m sorry about that.”

You didn’t know what he was talking about, but when you looked at your arms, you noticed some bruises had formed from when’d had grabbed you hard. “Oh…it’s nothing. You thought I was one of the bad guys who was going to kill your friends.” You shrugged, giving Daryl a weak smile, he shouldn’t feel guilty about it. He still seemed serious, chewing on his thumbnail as he looked at your fresh bruises. “Hey, I almost stabbed you after all.” You half-joked.

“Yeah. You’re good, almost got me.” Daryl nodded, and you thought he kind of looked impressed, making you blush. “I didn’t notice you.”

“I’m sorry about that too.” You pointed at the scratches you’d left on his cheek.

“Ain’t nothing. You thought I was going to kill Glenn and Maggie.”

“Yeah…”

For a short moment, none of you said anything, Daryl looking at the floor awkwardly, and you looking at him with curiosity. You hadn’t thought he’d go to apologize, you hadn’t expected it or needed it. He’d seemed dangerous to you at first, and although you were pretty sure he must be a skilled, lethal survivor, you now thought he seemed kind too, in his awkward way, and rather shy, something that you hadn’t imagined the first time you saw him. You waited for him to say anything else or leave, silent.

“You hunt?” Daryl finally asked without looking up from the floor, taking you by surprise.

“Uh…no.”

“And the rabbit?” He finally looked at you.

“Oh!” Now you realized why he was asking. “No, I caught it with a trap. You hunt, don’t you?”

“Hmm hmm.” Daryl nodded. “I could show you where you could set a trap, if you want, we got a lot of people to feed now.”

“Okay, thanks.” You nodded, and sighed sadly as you thought about the friend who had taught you that and who you’d seen devoured by walkers. You teared up again and you rubbed your eyes, embarrassed.

“You okay?” Daryl asked you, his tone soft and understanding even though he seemed very awkward.

“Yeah…” You nodded. “Just…my people…the ones I lost. They taught me everything I know. How to set traps, what kind of berries and mushrooms you can eat, how to use the knives, everything I know. Yet they’re dead and I’m alive. It’s stupid.”

You would be dead by now if it weren’t for them, who had taken you with them and turned you into a skilled survivor. First one of them had noticed your skill at moving silently, and she had encouraged you to train with her daily, until you were silent as a shadow so walkers wouldn’t notice you, moving quicker than you had ever done. Another one had trained you with the knives, which you had never used before, several hours each day, until you became rather good with them. Then you started to train on sneaking on walkers to put them down fast and silently, embedding your knives into their skulls before they even turned to look at you.

Your friends had taught you everything you knew about survival, they had made you what you were now, yet they were gone and you were alive. It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t fair.

Daryl looked at you, seeming like he didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry about your people.” He muttered looking away from you again. “But you shouldn’t feel guilty about surviving.”

“Yeah…” You gave him a weak and sad but grateful smile, and Daryl reached out to give you the most awkward, soft pat on your shoulder ever, but you knew he was trying to be comforting, and you were grateful.

You looked at him as he left the cell, tugging a piece of fabric that hung over the bars until it covered the door like a curtain, giving you privacy. You changed clothes and got into the bed, wrapping yourself with the blankets and sheet, finding hard to believe that you were lying down on a real bed, pillow and all.

Your mind was still full of memories of your dead friends and images of them being attacked by the walkers, and you were sure you weren’t going to be able to sleep, but you were so exhausted after three days barely sleeping, and you felt so safe now, that as soon as you closed your eyes you fell fast asleep.

Next day you kept getting used to the new place and the new people. You knew it would take you a bit to learn all the names, and even more to get to know all of those people, but all in all, they seemed nice and you knew you had been lucky to find them.

After lunch, Maggie and Glenn told you about the run they had planned for the next day, and to which you had been asked to join, if you wanted to. It was to a supermarket that they pointed to you in a map, and they hoped it hadn’t been raided yet, at least not completely. You’d be going early in the morning so as to be back before the sun started to go down. Besides Maggie and Glenn, Rick and Daryl were going too, and also Sasha, who was now at the watchtower, and Michonne, a woman whom you didn’t know yet because she’d been out and had arrived yesterday, late at night, when you were already asleep.

Once Maggie and Glenn explained you everything about their runs, how they worked, and everything you might need, they left you alone and you wandered through the prison yard. Everyone seemed to have chores or a job to do, and you wondered what might be your place there from now on.

You stopped when you saw a woman training with a katana a bit ahead of you. You watched her, mesmerized by her movements and her skill, she was graceful yet lethal, and you didn’t think you’d ever seen anything like that before. You couldn’t help but stare. She stopped when she noticed you, smiling and approaching.

“Hey, you must be the new girl, I’m Michonne.” She greeted.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you finally, Maggie won’t stop talking about you yesterday when I arrived, saying you’re good with knives and that you saved her and Glenn, that you sneaked on Daryl without him noticing you and what not.” Michone laughed softly and you blushed a bright red at her words.

“I’m not half as good as you are with that katana…” You shrugged, self-conscious.

“Being training for a long while now, and I guess you too.” Michonne gave you another easy smile that helped you feel better. “Rick must be really eager to see if what they say is true, though, he hadn’t gone out on a run in a while now.” She chuckled.

“Well…I hope I won’t disappoint…”

“I’m sure you won’t.” She patted your arm. “Want to train with me for a bit?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.”

Michonne and you ended up training for longer than any of you had planned, her with her katana and you with your knives. It was fun, and she was fun too, and you found yourself having quite a good time. Both of you ended up the training session panting and sweaty, and you still found it hard to believe that they had running water to wash without having to go to the river, almost like a shower. You weren’t going to lie, you loved it.

That night, though, as you tried to sleep, everything came back to you. Your friends. Your camp. The walkers. The three men you had killed. Every time that you closed your eyes, there were they. You turned and tossed, knowing that you needed to rest for tomorrow’s run, you tried to think on anything else, tried keeping your mind blank, but it was for nothing.

With a frustrated sigh, you got up. Throwing a shirt over your tank top, you decided to go for a walk around the yard. It wasn’t usual that you could walk at night on the open air knowing that you were safe, that you hadn’t to worry about walkers. You hadn’t been wandering through the yard for long when you heard a voice calling you.

“Hey”

You looked around in the darkness and you saw someone sat down on one of the tables, smoking, and soon you realized it was Daryl.

“Hey” You approached him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah…” You nodded and sat down at the other end of the table. “You couldn’t sleep either?”

“Ain’t tired,” he shrugged.

“You should rest, we have a run early tomorrow.” You said awkwardly, not sure of how to make conversation.

“You too.”

“Yeah…”

Without looking at you, Daryl reached out to pass you the cigarette. You’d never been one for smoking, at least before the world ended, but you took it anyway, muttering thanks and taking a drag before passing it back to Daryl.

“Can’t stop seeing them, every time I try to sleep. My friends.” You said quietly after a little while of silence. “I wonder if I’ll ever stop thinking about the ones I lost. I feel they’re always in my head.”

“You won’t,” Daryl replied, as quietly as you, reaching out to pass you the cigarette again. “At least I didn’t. But it’ll feel different.”

Of course, he had lost people too. Who hadn’t. You looked at him but his expression was unreadable, face half hidden by the darkness and his long hair. You were curious, but you knew better than to ask him about his losses. Nobody liked to think about that. You didn’t want to remind him, and neither did you want to keep thinking about yours.

“Can’t stop thinking about the men I killed either.” You murmured. “I hadn’t killed anyone before.” At first, you hadn’t felt anything, which had unsettled you a bit, but now the fact that you’d killed people, alive people, weighed on you, especially because of the lack of remorse, you still didn’t feel anything of that. Maybe after putting down so many walkers, now you didn’t care about killing people either, maybe murder was now second nature to you. You didn’t know what to say to that.

“You did what you had to,” Daryl replied.

“Did I?” You thought that trying to talk would have been useless, but maybe you could have done something else. “I could have tried and leave them unconscious or… I don’t know.”

“No. They’d have killed you. Probably Glenn and Maggie too. I know men like that.”

“I guess…I just…I don’t know…I don’t feel anything, no remorse, nothing. Maybe I can kill people like nothing now, maybe that’s just what I am, what I’ve become.”

Daryl looked at you at that, frowning. “Ain’t that, you had to do it, told you.”

You nodded, you weren’t sure if you were convinced, but you appreciated Daryl’s words. You passed him the pretty-much-finished cigarette back. “Have you ever killed someone?” You ventured to ask, wondering if it might be too personal.

“Yeah.”

You bit your lip, unsure about keep pressing it. “What happened?”

Daryl didn’t answer. Instead, she stubbed the butt of the cigarette on the stone table and got up. “We gotta sleep.” You nodded and got up too. Daryl walked you to your cellblock, which you weren’t expecting, as if wanting to make sure you were actually okay, before leaving towards his own.

Back in bed, you kept tossing and turning for a bit, but you felt it was easier to relax and eventually, you fell asleep.

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And this was the first chapter of my new story! What did you think? Also, was this lenght of chapter too long? If you have a moment, please drop me a comment with your impresions.

As always, English is not my first language so sorry if there are mistakes.

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stanbillyhargrove · 4 years

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Demons pt 20

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Cat)

T/W: Self Harm (Cat), Abuse, Eating Disorder Cat has a lot of issues

BIG WARNING: SEXUAL ASSAULT, DRUGS, SUICIDE

This will be a multi chapter series with fluff, smut, angst, all the things

Billy's POV

I pulled up to Steve's house a while later and was surprised to see his car in the driveway. I figured he would have gone driving around town some more even after me telling him to stay home. I scooped Cat into my arms and walked up the driveway, shifting to hold her with one arm so I could ring the doorbell. Behind the door, I could hear someone running before the door flew open, a frazzled Steve holding back Rocky on the other side.

He saw Cat in my arm, pale, eyes sunken and his knees buckled, "is she..?"

"She's sleeping, Harrington. Calm down."

Steve breathed out loudly and backed out of the way of the door with shakey knees, "come on, bring her inside."

Neither of us talked while I followed him through his house to his room. Steve pulled the blankets down so I could lay Cat underneath them.

"I'll go get more," he whispered, quickly walking away.

I knelt beside the bed, gently stroking her face with my fingers and listening to her faint breathing. As I looked at her face, I understood why Steve thought I was carrying her body. Everything about her seemed so sunken, frail, lifeless. I eased the sleeves of her jacket up to look at the marks on her arms and felt my stomach turn to lead, threatening to drag me down through the floor. Tears collected in the corners of my eyes again as I ran a thumb over the rough scab. Steve cleared his throat when he came back, making me look away to wipe at my eyes before meeting his gaze.

"I know, they're pretty bad," he murmured, layering more blankets over Cat.

I leaned forward and kissed her forehead before standing up to leave the room with Steve, Rocky trailing behind us.

"What was it like?" I asked as we walked towards the kitchen, "finding her."

Steve turned to look at me with a huff, "horrible. The first time she called me she was off her face drunk and just, the way she talked sounded so, wrong, you know? I drove over as soon as I heard the message and found her passed out, just totally out of it. There was a bottle of pills empty on the counter. I dragged her into the tub and forced her to puke until she woke up."

I looked in Steve's fridge and pulled out a couple beers, handing one to Steve before leaning against the counter.

"Last time?" I questioned, popping the beer open and taking a swig.

Steve took a long gulp of the beer before looking back at me, "after you showed up here and kicked my ass I told Cat to go home, I was just so fucking pissed off and I thought it would be better if she left. Give us all time to cool down, you know? But I didn't know what to say to her, after everything, so I just didn't, I didn't talk to her at all. I was fucking stupid. She called me Saturday and left a message, begging for my help, thought I was mad at her. When I got to her place it was weirdly quiet, like nothing seemed real when I walked inside."

Steve took a deep breath and downed the rest of his beer, pulling another from the fridge and opening it before continuing, "she slit her wrists in the bathroom. There was blood all over the floor, it looked like a fucking murder scene from TV. She was still awake so I wrapped her up to stop the bleeding and put her to bed, then cleaned everything up. Told her I couldn't do that again, couldn't hold on to everything by myself and that she needed to quit hiding everything. I tried giving her a fucking ultimatum, man, figured if I told her I wouldn't be around while she killed herself maybe she'd want to get better," he wiped at his dewy eyes with the heel of his hand, "nothing was enough, obviously. She doesn't want to get better, Billy."

I swallowed my beer with a gulp, my throat closing around a knot, "she thought we hated her when I found her... And you guys slept together?"

Steve nodded slowly, "yeah, the night before you showed up here. I picked her up from that party and brought her back here, she'd been staying here since the pills. She was drunk, thought maybe it would help her get past things. With her here, I started drinking whenever it got to be too much, and I drank a lot that night. I'd been drinking before Tommy's call and then downed a couple after bringing her back here, it was just so much shit, you know? And then she asked me if we could...and I just, I wanted to help. I thought if it was a good thing for her then maybe that would help. It didn't mean anything though."

I nodded, my jaw ticking, "was it good?"

Steve snorted, "I mean, it was okay, she cried the whole time. Had a panic attack after, I don't know if she'd consider it good."

I hummed, taking a long pull of my beer before pulling a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket, "you mind?"

Steve shook his head and waved a hand at me, "go ahead."

I tapped one out of the pack and held it between my lips to light it, pulling a hard drag off it before muttering, "tell me about the party. Why she ended up with you. Why she trusts you more than me."

Steve sighed, "I overheard those losers from out of town talking about leaving a girl upstairs passed out. It creeped me out so I went to check it out, see if I could help them get home, found her in one of the rooms. She was dead to the world, wouldn't wake up. I straightened up her clothes and brought her here to sleep it off, I thought she drank too much and maybe they backed off when she passed out but when she woke up in the morning she couldn't remember much of what happened. They drugged her, slipped something in her drink. Anyway, I had seen some of the scars on her chest at the party and then when I brought her here I took her jeans off, cause sleeping in jeans sucks you know? I thought I was helping but she's got them on her legs too and I saw how skinny she was too. Brought it up in the morning and she yelled at me that she was fine and told me not to say anything about it. So I didn't, I just tried to be there for her, asking if she was okay, just checking in type stuff. Then the day Nancy and I broke up I went over to check in, I was just wanting to talk about what happened with Nancy and I found her bleeding in the shower. Billy, she was pregnant, between the drinking and not eating she made herself miscarry. That's when we realized what actually happened at the party. From then I was her go to for everything cause I knew already, I guess that was easier for her than saying it all out loud."

Steve shrugged and smiled dryly as I clenched my jaw, vibrating with anger. I couldn't stop the hot tears that started rolling down my cheeks until I wiped them away with the back of my hand.

She was pregnant?

"So she doesn't eat? Like at all? Is that why she looks like a skeleton now?"

Steve shook his head, his mouth tightening, "I tried when she was staying here, couldn't get her to have much of anything. She was running all the time too."

"Fuck," I growled, "I..Jesus fucking christ. Why her?"

Steve's mouth tightened into a thin line, "don't know man. Don't know why they picked her, maybe they didn't, she just was nice enough to accept a drink."

I shook my head, "but she's been fucked up since before that, how does someone get that fucked up? And she's, she's so fucking nice! How is she still so nice?"

Steve shrugged again, "I'm not sure.. I know I wouldn't be," there was a pause before, "hey, Billy?"

"Hmm?"

Steve looked down at the floor quickly before looking back up at me, "where did you find her? Why'd you come here?"

I exhaled a plume of smoke, "out in the forest. We always went out there to get away from things, took me a while to think about it. Can't bring her to my place and I thought you'd be helpful."

I spent the night talking with Harrington, both of us drowning our feelings in beer until we passed out on the couches in the living room. I woke up with a start when Steve's phone started ringing loudly and watched him jump up to grab it, still half asleep.

"Ello?" He grumbled.

He blinked hard a few times, trying to clear the fog in his brain before holding the phone out towards me.

"S for you."

I rolled off the couch with a groan and walked up to grab the phone from Steve's hand, raising it to my ear with a mumbled, "what?"

Max's loud voice rang through my ears, "it's almost time to go to school, are you coming?"

"Fuck! Yeah, Max, I'll be right there."

I scrambled to hang up the phone and rushed around Steve's house for my jacket and boots, stopping just before opening the door to look at him, "Harrington."

He looked at me with a raised eyebrow and scratched sleepily at his chest, "hmm?"

"If she wakes up, tell her I was here. I'll be right back."

Steve nodded and nestled back into the couch, eyelids already growing heavy, "yeah, sure."

Max was impatiently waiting at the end of the driveway, tapping her hand against her skateboard when I skid to a stop in front of her.

"Sorry!" I exclaimed as she pulled the door open and sat down with a huff, "slept in."

Max just stared at me, "where's Cat? You said she was okay."

I sighed as I drove away from the house, "she's still sleeping, I think. Steve's watching her."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Max, I don't think-"

She turned to glare at me, "tell me what's wrong with her. I want to know. She's my friend too."

I huffed, too tired to argue with her, "it can't go past you, Max. I'm serious. Don't even tell Cat you know, okay?"

I waited for her to nod before continuing to talk, "Cat was drugged, at a party and..and some disgusting fucker had sex with her while she was out cold. She's been hurting herself since before she moved here but it got worse after that. She hasn't been eating and she's been drinking all the time and... and, well, just hurting herself. And you might see how she hurt herself but you can't say anything about it, okay?"

Max blinked, shocked, "why would someone do that?"

"Because they're fucking sick," I growled.

I was just pulling up to the school when Max asked, "how bad did she hurt herself?"

I had to bite my cheek to stop the tears that sprang forward, "pretty bad, Max. But she's still here."

Still alive.

"Can I come visit her?" She looked up at me, hopeful as I stopped in front of the school.

I smiled tightly, "I think she'd like that, Max. I'll pick you up, okay? If she's awake you can visit her."

"Yeah, okay," she agreed, "see you after school, Billy."

I got back to Steve's and passed back out on the couch, trying to sleep off the worst of my hangover. It was around noon when I woke up again to see Steve coming back into the living room with a plate of pancakes.

"Any more of those?" I mumbled, sitting up from the couch.

Steve nodded, his mouth full and mumbled, "kitchen."

I got up to get myself a stack of pancakes and came back to flop down on the couch.

"You been up for a while? Where's the dog?" I asked between bites.

"A little bit," he mumbled, finishing off his breakfast, "Rocky's out in the yard. Figured he'd been stuck inside long enough."

"Has she woken up yet?"

Steve shook his head, frowning, "I haven't heard or seen her."

"Should we check on her?"

"I popped in when I woke up, to make sure she was still there. Could probably check on her again now," he picked nervously at his fingers, "I'm worried about her."

He paused for a minute, taking a deep breath, "what if she still doesn't want to get better, Billy? We can't force her to live if she doesn't want to."

I sighed, standing up off the couch, "I don't know, Steve."

Quietly, I walked into Steve's bedroom to check on Cat. She was curled up on the side of the bed, one arm outstretched and hanging off the side, the other wrapped around a pillow. I knelt down beside the bed and gently ran a knuckle down the side of her face. The dark purple around her eyes had faded a bit, making her face look a little less sunken.

I leaned up to kiss her forehead and whispered, "hey, Baby, you gotta wake up for me, okay?"

I heard her stir as I kept talking through the lump in my throat, "you gotta wake up so I can help you, Baby. Max misses you, you gotta wake up and get better for us."

"B..?" She rasped, eyes fluttering open.

I sat back on my heels to look at her face, a watery smile on my face, "morning, Baby."

She smiled back at me and looked around sleepily, "why..?"

"I brought you to Steve's place last night. Do you remember last night?"

"Yeah," she mumbled, nestling back into the pillows, "I remember."

"You wanna get up? Have a shower? It'll be nice and warm," I coaxed.

"M sleepy," she murmured.

"I know, Baby," I tried to keep coaxing her, keep my voice light and my emotions in check even as my throat tightened, "I know you're tired, but if we get you cleaned up and you eat something then you can go back to sleep, okay?"

She hummed, eyes closing again, "mmkay."

I smirked and scooped her up in my arms to carry her to the bathroom, her fingers clutching at my shirt, dipping under it to seek out the warmth of my chest.

I hissed when her icy fingers touched me, "you're fucking freezing."

Cat nuzzled into my shoulder, humming happily when her nose touched my throat.

"Are you gunna let me put you down so you can shower?"

She shook her head, "nope, warm."

I groaned, adjusting her in my arms before walking to the living room where Steve was watching TV.

"Harrington," I grumbled, "help."

He looked towards us, eyebrows knit with confusion, "what?"

"Either hold her or start the shower."

He smirked and jumped off the couch to take her from me, shivering when she touched his skin.

"Stevie," she mumbled, leaning into his neck.

"Jesus," he groaned, "like a person sized popsicle."

I chuckled, leading the way back to the bathroom and turned on the shower as hot as was tolerable.

"Thanks Steve," I said, turning back to take Cat from his arms.

He nodded, "I'll get some water boiling for drinks and find some clothes for you both."

Steve left after giving a tight smile. Left me holding a shell of the girl that I had fallen in love with. A stark contrast from the bright, sarcastic girl that caught my eye and my heart. I gently lowered her feet to the ground, keeping an arm around her waist to steady her.

"C'mon," I muttered, "let's get you cleaned up."

Cat nodded as I slipped my hand under her jacket, sliding it down her arms to fall on the ground. Next was her baggy tshirt, which was a little more challenging to pull off while holding her up but it eventually joined her jacket on the ground. I sucked in my breath when I saw the harsh lines of her collarbone and hips and chewed the inside of my mouth.

"Cat.." I breathed, running my fingers along her ribs.

She tensed when I wrapped my hand around her side, just under the jut of her ribcage and looked up at me with dewy eyes.

"Hold onto me," I sighed as I knelt down to take her pants off.

Cat's fingers gripped my shoulder as I slid her pants and underwear off. When I looked back up at her, her eyes were screwed shut and she was biting her lip as tears spilled down her cheeks.

"Shit," I whispered, standing back up to pull her into my chest, "Baby, it's okay. Shh, I got you."

"I'm sorry," she cried, "it's just.."

"I know, Cat. I know, it's okay," I murmured into her hair, "c'mon, in the shower now, before all the hot waters gone."

She sniffed and nodded before letting me help her into the tub, sighing when the hot water hit her skin.

"Do you need me?" I asked.

There was a small, whimpering, "yes," as my answer and I quickly tossed my clothes onto the floor to join her.

I took my time lathering her up from head to toe, gently rubbing her body and planting light kisses on her skin as she cried. I ran my fingers through her soapy hair, tipping her head back into the hot water and running my lips along her jaw.

The whole thing was so..

Intimate.

Close in a way I've never experienced before, in a way that hurt my heart and made it swell at the same time.

I kissed the salt water from her cheeks and held her tight to my chest until she stopped crying. When she was all clean and the hot water was running out I helped her step out of the tub and watched as she slowly wrapped herself in a towel before I quickly washed myself. I turned off the cool water and stepped out of the shower to grab a towel and wrapped it around my waist.

Outside the door was a small pile of clothes that Steve had brought us. Sweatpants and tshirts for each of us. I helped Cat get dressed first, methodically drying her before pulling the clothes onto her body. She was once again standing in front of me, swimming in Steve's clothes and I couldn't help the pang of hurt that went through my chest when I remembered finding her here, in his clothes before.

I quickly dressed myself and wrapped an arm around her, "want me to carry you again?"

Cat nodded, tucking her face into my chest. I bent down to scoop her up and started carrying her to the living room.

"Max misses you, she wants to come see you after school. What do you think?" I asked, trying to coax her into a lighter mood.

She hummed, "maybe. 'm tired."

"I know, Baby. You can sleep a bit more in the living room, okay? Steve made pancakes, you want one?"

I gently set her down on the couch as she shook her head, "not hungry."

Steve sighed and left the living room in a hurry, retreating to the kitchen with clenched fists.

I knelt down to grab her hands and looked up at her sadly, "Cat, please," I tried to plead, to somehow get through to her, "please, for me. Just a little bit, okay? Then you can sleep a bit more."

She didn't answer, just looked down at our hands and chewed her lip.

My jaw ticked, "just. Fucking try," I growled, pulling away from her to storm out into the backyard before I could start yelling at her.

Rocky greeted me at the door, pushing his head into my hand for attention. I walked past him and sat on the edge of the lawn, cradling my face in my hands. Tears poured down my face, hot and angry as my chest started heaving. I heard the door open and close a few minutes later and soft footsteps crunching up behind me.

Steve sat down beside me, legs crossed in front of him and held out my pack of cigarettes, "thought you might want these."

I took them from him, tapped one out and stuck it between my teeth to light it.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

I stared at the lawn as I smoked, focusing on the smoke filling my lungs and the burn it left behind.

"I don't think I can do this," I finally blurted out.

Steve didn't look at me, just nodded solemnly, waiting for me to continue.

"I..I don't..that's not even her in there!" I pointed towards the house, anger lashing through me, "it's like whatever made her Cat is gone. THAT is not Cat, THAT is not even a person anymore and I don't..I don't fucking know how to fix that! How to bring her back! I can't sit there and pretend that that's my girlfriend, this is worse than yesterday even! It's like she fell asleep and fucking died but her body's still walking around, Steve! What the fuck do we do about that? How..?" I crumpled finally, full on crying.

Steve leaned towards me, wrapped one arm around my back and let me cry on his shoulder. I could hear him sniffling too, could feel when he moved to wipe at his face.

"We have to try, Billy," he murmured, "I don't know how, I don't know what will work but we have to try. Try to just put on a brave face and be as positive as we can, just try to build her back up. That's all we can do."

I huffed, sitting back up, "I don't think I can, she deserves someone better than me. Someone less angry than me. Someone who doesn't want to shake her and scream at her."

A puff of air rushed out of Steve's nose, like a partially formed laugh, "I wanna do that too. Scream in her face and see if I can pull her out of her head. You have no idea, man, how fucking angry I am. But we're it for her, the only support she has. So we need to get a grip and get back inside and just love her and hopefully we get her back."

@elsie2018 @savagesuccubus @breadnbutternips @speedmetalqueen @florenceivy @charmed-asylum

#billy hargrove fluff #billy hargove imagine #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfiction #fanfic #billy hargrove series

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arthursclozapine · 5 years

Text

REALLY long story pt1

TW lots of smut, attempted suicide, murder,

Blood Brothers

I was ashamed of the state he had found me in. He was Arthur, and I was just some harlot that roamed the streets of Gotham for fun. I stood looking out into the river from a bridge, tears streaming down my face. My plan was simple, and I then laughed at how easily it was to contemplate suicide in this moment. I lurched forward, leaning myself on the bars, attempting to climb up and over.

“You shouldn’t do that.” I heard a voice say. I turned quickly to see who disturbed me. A painfully thin man, holding a paper bag.

“Why not? You don’t know me.” I called back to the man.

“I’ve been there. It isn’t worth it. My mother always told me to smile and put on a happy face.” He chuckled.

“Just....... just let me be. No one loves me. No one knows me.” I said tearfully.

“I know you now.” He put a hand on my shoulder, and my sentimental ass turned and sobbed into this stranger’s chest. He held onto me, pulling me closer.

“Life isn’t easy, it’s what you make it.”

“So do you just randomly have these inspirational quotes on lock or what?” I jest. I smiled up at him.

“My name is Arthur. I’m glad I saw you when I did.” He spoke.

“Avis.” I introduced, and then we shook hands. I looked at him funny. I let him take took me to a motel, and that was the beginning of my downward spiral. He unlocked the door, and I went to sit on the bed.

“So......?” I questioned him. He turned to me with a Swiss Army knife.

“Are you serious?” I scoffed. Arthur chuckled.

“Dead serious.” He muttered. I laugh nervously as he slit his wrist. My eyes widened.

“Why did you—“ I began as he did the same to me. The wound stung like a thousand bees just bit me.

“Arthur what the hell?” I ask as he brings our cuts together, clasping fingers together.

“Now we’re blood brothers.” He smiled madly. I scoff.

“Im a girl.” I say to him.

“A part of me will always live in you.”

“This is the craziest thing that has ever happened to

me.” I say with a gasp.

“Promise me you’ll never kill yourself.”

“Dude this is too deep, I just met you.” I stood, pulling away from his arm. Then, I felt it. I felt him inside my head.

“Promise.” His soul said.

“Okay! Okay I promise! Just get out of my head!” I cry.

“What do you mean?” He asks, further making me struggle differentiating reality and imagination. I take a look at my arm, putting a finger in the cut to part the skin.

“Arthur. What have you done?” I asked.

“I have just saved your life.” He said, pulling the sleeve of the cut arm down, and gathering his things.

“So what? Just gonna leave me here now?” I cried out to him as he left. I followed but it was as if he disappeared in the fog.

“Arthur? Arthur, damnit!” I yelled. I wondered if anything actually just happened. I look down at the cut. Still there. My breath was erratic, and kept pulsing.

“I am still right here.”

I looked around, looking for Arthur.

“I’m not crazy! I know I’m not........” the cut was fully healed into a pale scar.

“What the...... what the f*ck?!?!!” I exclaimed.

“Don’t worry little magpie, I’ll always be right here.” I hear the voice, and I imagine the smile.

“You’re the only one who ever noticed me, and you gotta just leave like that?” I felt bad.

“We may meet in passing one day. I’m glad there is someone like you that notices me.” He cooed.

“Might as well go sleep. I bought the motel for a few days, you can stay there until then.” Arthur informed.

“Thank you, Arthur. I mean it. I owe you one.” I close my arms for warmth, returning to the motel.

Sunday.

I lay lazily on the bed, wearing some nice lingerie some guy bought me........

Okay, okay, a patron bought for me.

*knock knock knock*

I sigh, going to open the door.

It was Arthur! I perked up!

“Hey dude! The real Arthur! What brings you here?” I ask, hugging him.

“What do you mean— Nevermind.” Was his retort. As I pull away, I notice his eyes scan my body, and he stifled a little bit.

“Ohhhhh! Arthur likey?” I playfully shake my core. I really owed him, why not this way? The way I knew best. He was kinda cute.......... wouldn’t mind laying him down.

“Yula, no, I just— I just wanted to give you this.” He says, fumbling in his pockets. I put a hand on his shoulder.

“Artie, no, I can’t accept. I owe you too much.” I nod. He stares at me for a moment.

“Really?” He asks.

“Really really. Why not come inside for a bit?” I purred at him, guiding him inside by his jacket lapels.

I playfully threw him onto the bed.

“Avis........” he said.

“Yeah, what?” I mumbled, biting my lip and looking at his.

“I—I don’t think I can...... I just—“ I interrupted him by kissing him on the mouth. When I was finished, I pull away, our eyes sharing a look for a moment.

“Don’t worry. I’ll give you what you like.” I promise.

“After all, what are friends for?” I joked. He then looks down at himself, and my eyes followed, seeing his trousers tight with his erection. We pulled off each other’s clothing, now focused on getting each other off.

After all was done and done, we lay naked on the bed together, one of Arthur’s hands holding a cigarette and the other holding my hand.

“You fuck really good, you know?” I complemented. He took a long drag and chuckles.

“Believe it or not, but you’re actually my first.” He reveals.

“Get out. Really? I was surprised. He was nice, sweet, funny. Lots of stamina....... How could you let him pass you by?

“I thought you’d be crawling with babes!” I joked, making him laugh. I reach for a drag, and he hands me his cigarette. I had a little smoke, and gave it back to him.

“Will you stay for awhile? I just, like, miss you or whatever.......” I admitted, making me blush. He looked at me with a warm smile.

“Maybe for a bit.” He looks at the clock on the wall for a longer state than usual.

“Is there another?” I ask, feeling weirdly jealous.

“N-no! I just have to take care of my mother.” He mumbled shyly.

“Yeah right.... it’s ok if there’s someone else..” I felt warm tears building up.

“I’m serious. I have to take care of her. I have to.” Arthur sighed. I sniffled, smiling.

“So you’re a mommy’s boy, or something?” I joke, blinking back the tears, touching his cheek softly. Arthur laughed.

“I guess I must be.” He smiled, moving my face to kiss again. Something felt so real, so homely with Arthur, even if we were in a motel at the moment.

“Oh yeah, look what I have for you.” Arthur got up, putting his cigarette out, getting a paper bag.

“You can use this, or get rid of it. You need it more than I do.” He tossed the bag toward me.

“Ooooooh! Goodies from Artie!” I happily exclaimed, until I saw what was inside. I brought out a gun?!?!!!

“Why? How did you get this?” I exclaim.

Arthur just laughs.

“Did you use it yet? How come you have this?” I felt a rumble in my tummy. Butterflies flew as I imagine Arthur killing.

“Arthur, you’re insane!”

“It takes one to know one, baby.”

We both shared a laugh, Arthur coming back to sit on the bedside. He watched me and helped me as I tried to figure out how to use the gun. Lots of laughs ensued.

“Arthur this is nice and all, but I think you should have it. I’m a shit aim. I don’t want any blood on my hands.” I confess. I would do anything for Arthur, but killing isn’t for me.

“Ok then........ I should go soon, it’s almost time for Murray!” He said, getting his clothes back on. I wrapped myself in a blanket.

“See you, Arthur. Have fun, don’t get lost.” I jested. He laughs as he leaves.

“Alone again.” I mumbled to myself.

Weeks pass, and he keeps paying for my room and visiting. You know what I’m talking about. Love is all that I had to give.

One night, I popped a serious question.

“Are we together, or something?” I mused to him. He looked at me for a long time.

“Like, boyfriend and girlfriend?” I moved closer to him.

“I think we’re more than that now.” He takes a drag of his cigarette.

“What’s that mean?” I ask, he takes me by my wrist, kinda hard. I flinch a bit.

“We are one. I’m in you, and you’re in me.” He mutters. I didn’t fear anyone other than him this time.

“Okay.....”

“Never forget that.” He chuckled. He sure changes moods fast....... something I admired about him.

There was no one like him. He was strong. Emotionally soft. I can’t deny the way he has me by my heart.

Friday evening.

“Can we go out on the town? Pretty please?” I asked. He smiled and nodded at me.

“Don’t worry, I have some really nice clothes here. I’ll look real fancy, just for you. Who do you want me to be?” I questioned, showing velvet, silk, and cashmere dresses in front of my form for him to see.

“I guess we could. That’d be lots of fun.” He said. I squealed with happiness and excitement.

“But, I don’t have anything nice to wear.” He face seemed down then.

“I’ve got the dough! I’ll take ya to a nice tailor, pick you up something dazzlin!”

“I couldn’t, Avis.”

“Please? For me?” I pout. He crooked his mouth, and shook his head.

“Only this once. I don’t feel right using your money.” He mutters.

“Yes! Cha-ching! We’ll be the hottest couple in Gotham!” I exclaimed. Arthur blushes.

“What’s the matter, you don’t agree?”

“Well, there’s also the fact that I’m me.” He looked sad.

“All the more to celebrate! Come on, let’s go! I’m starving!”

In a matter of time, Arthur donned a crimson red suit, and I matched in red velvet. We walked downtown, me holding onto his arm. We looked striking. We were immortal in this exact moment. As long as our blood flowed, we lived.

I was happy to be alive. With him. Anything and everything I wanted. He open fired on my heart. We entered a classy dark venue. On stage, a female crooner serenaded the audience.

🎶 Hide your heart from sight, lock your dreams at night

It could happen to you🎶

“Oh wow, this is nice!” I felt the velvet seats we sat on.

“Real, real classy, I can’t believe we could afford this.....” I admired, resting a hand on his thigh. He stifled a laugh.

“Wanna hear a joke? We can’t.” He laughed some more. Soon, we were being escorted out.

“Spineless bastard swine!!!! We hated it! Every second was as boring as the last!! And don’t get me started on the entertainment!” I spit at the guards.

“Let’s just get out of here.....” Arthur pulled me along.

“They can’t treat us like this!” I protest.

“Better get used to it, like I have.” Arthur walked ahead.

“Artie, I’m sorry. I just hate it. I’m sick and tired of being treated worse than the garbage on these wretched streets!” I chase after him, back to the hotel. He sprawled himself on the bed.

“Let me make it up to you, please?” I offer, crawling next to him.

“Nothing can redeem this evening.” He mutters.

“Are you sure? Like, really sure?” I tried to entice him.

He just lit a cigarette, and laid there, looking up at the ceiling. I felt his bulge, really stroked it, and made my way up to give him kisses. He struggled to maintain composure, finally breaking it by taking my face and kissing me rough. He sat upright quickly, throwing off the suit and helping me out of my fancy dress. I loved every moment. He let me ride him, both of us kissing and moaning loudly. Again we laid naked side by side, enjoying the afterwave of a raging climax. He lit up a cigarette. I moved over to him, hugging him. He turned toward me and hugged back.

“Arthur........ I love you.” I whispered. He laughs.

“Arthur! I’m being real! I really mean it!” I retort. He says and does nothing.

“I want to spend my life with you........” I admit. I knew what he was gonna say.

“I know, I know, we barely know each other, but I can’t deny the feeling of when we’re together. Home. I know it’s sounds really stupid and cheesy, but I’ve never felt this way with literally anyone before.” I looked into his eyes.

“Let’s get married. Start a family—” I mused as he shot a glare, which caught me completely off guard.

“No kids. Never. I won’t allow myself to let you down.” I didn’t know this Arthur. I suppress my fear, and wondered about the times I let him hit it raw. I wouldn’t dare say it to his face though.

“I just don’t know what I’d become.” He softened, moving hair from on my face.

“Darling, never mention this again. It hurts to imagine what would happen to me if....... you know.” He explained, stroking my cheek softly.

“Okay, okay. I won’t. It wasn’t exactly a dream to me, I just want to make you to stay.” I admit.

“We can never be apart. I’m alive inside you. As long as you breath, and live, I’m there, my love.”

My love

I kiss him on the mouth softly, feeling the sand start to fill my eyes. He lazily kisses me back, his heavy arms resting on my body. We cuddle and curled into a ball and let ourselves sleep. I prayed that this wasn’t a dream, and not sleep bringing us back to reality.

I woke up early, not moving anything but my eyes.

Arthur sat in the sun, still nude, listening to the radio quietly. How could I have gotten so........lucky? Blessed?

Glory filled my life ever since him.

I didn’t want to disturb him. I shifted a little and sighed, trying to seem asleep. I strained my ear to hear what he was listening.

🎶 We passed upon the stair

We spoke of was and when

Although I wasn't there

He said I was his friend🎶

Was that Bowie? I could kinda hear the voice. I gained the confidence to wake in front of him. I stretched, watching his every move.

“Hey, make some coffee will ya?” I greet. He turns with a soft smile on his face.

“I was thinking..... let’s do brunch?” He offers.

“Brunch on a Saturday? You’re a day early, daddy.” I quipped. He looked at me funny.

“What’d you call me?”

“Daddy. Why, you hate it?”

“No. Far from it.” He grinned that grin, the one which melts my panties off. I’m joking, but it also wasn’t exactly untrue.

We both get dressed, then out for brunch.

“Nice place. I like it. Nice vibes.” I comment as we walked into the iHop.

“What ya gonna have? Pancakes? Or what else? Oh, look, more pancakes.” I quipped.

“Look, if you want we could just lea—“

“I’m joking! Pancakes will make do!” I remarked.

We both just ordered what we first saw when we opened the menu.

“Nice. Banana split pancakes. Can’t wait.”

“I’m gonna go with....... hot cakes. With strawberries, please.” Arthur orders. The waitress wrote it down and left.

“Thanks.” He calls after the waitress.

“What a b*tch. I seen the way she looked at me.” I mumbled. Someone was losing a head today.

“What are you talking about? She probably looked like that to everyone here.”

“I want to go. Now.” I growled. Arthur sighed, a completely different sounding sigh than I was used to.

“Okay, okay.” Arthur obliges me. We get up, but I wasn’t very happy yet. We just happened to run into the b*tch herself.

“This is an ihop, not some fancy shmancy wine and dine, lighten up.” I retorted while Arthur was trying his best to drag me out without any conflict. We went out into the street.

“Avis. What the hell?” Arthur was genuinely pissed at me, I could tell. My eyes well up with tears and I felt my face contorting into a ugly crying mode.

“Babe, don’t cry. I’m sorry I just....... look, I’ll make it up to you.” He hugged me tightly.

“I guess you can’t take me anywhere now, I just cause trouble.” I mumble as we both walk down the street.

“My favourite kind of trouble, though.” Arthur smirked. He never fails to put a smile on my face when I’m sad and down.

“Arthur, you’re so good to me.” I say quietly to him, rubbing the scar overtop my clothes. He notices, and pats his scar back, smiling mischievously.

Our secret.

We walked and walked until we found a tiny cafe in the wall. They played Al Bowlly. This is what drew Arthur to stay for a bit. He went to the jukebox, waving me over. I came to him, and he put out his hand to dance.

🎶 Midnight brought us sweet romance

I know all my whole life through

I'll be remembering you

Whatever else I do🎶

We danced. When it was over, we danced some more.

Arthur lead me to a table in the corner, when suddenly—

“Here you two lovebirds are. On the house.” The elderly barista said, handing us cups of coffee.

“Why?” I ask, looking into the cup.

“Was refreshing to see people use that old junk of a jukebox! Enjoy!” The barista went back to cleaning the bar.

“Sweet! What are the odds of that, huh?”

“Lucky us.” Arthur mused.

“What’s up? You seem kind of sad.” I question.

“Lost my job a few days ago.” His voice was sullen.

“What?!?! Why?” I say with concern.

“Dropped this.” He places a gun on the table, a frown on his face. I gasped.

“Shit, Arthur...I felt my heart, and certain other regions ache. Arthur shook his head, smiling lightly at my enthusiasm. Or so I think.

“You don’t strike me as a criminal, Artie. Did you kill anybody?” I jest.

“No. Not yet.” He said,

“There’s only one thing left to do.” He pushes the gun to me.

“Me? What the hell? You want me to do what, kill you?” I inquired, hating that thought. He laughs.

“Don’t be silly. I’m going to kill my boss. Bastard deserves to rot in hell.” Arthur grimaced. I hated this look on him.

“Okay, okay. I’ll help.” I agree.

“Good little girl. I know his schedule, we will meet him in the parking lot across from my old workplace. We will proceed on Monday. Get your hopes up, there will be blood.”

Monday evening.

We donned our clown masks, wearing suspiciously neat clothing. We hid behind some cars as we waited.

“There he is!” Arthur pilled me up, and looked at the victim. An old dude who clearly had no idea he dressed too much for work in a clownery.

“Arthur? Bastard! You are the killer clown that’s on the

los—“ Arthur shout him in the throat. He laughed manically. I joined in.

“Your turn, honey! Finish for daddy!” Arthur yelled to me. No words could describe how turned on I was. I shot at the boss, in the stomach.

“The head! The bastard’s head!” Arthur was on his power trip now.

“I can’t. I told you I’m a shit aim!” I explain as he grabbed the gun from my hand and shot the boss through the temple. His blood pooled and brains scattered on the ground.

“Let’s get the hell out of here. Now.” He ordered, lighting up a cigarette. I blew a raspberry at the dead guy ask passed. We walked down the street, down a back alley, and found a barrel fire. We threw our plastic masks away. Now, we were heading home.

“I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed that you are the killer clown! You’re practically famous— well Infamous, I guess.” I marvelled.

“Keep it down, there are eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Shucks, sorry.” I apologise.

When we got in, I kissed him on the mouth.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to do this!” I purr, getting down on my knees. He looks down at me, automatically taking his trousers off. I took him in my mouth, stroking and sucking on him. He tosses his head back, groaning. I keep at it, happy I’ve pleased him in all ways than one.

(A/N: I do not know how dicks work so go easy on me pls)

He quickly finished, into my mouth. He didn’t last as long as he used to, or maybe I was just getting better at pleasing him? Only he knows. I then swallowed up his cum.

“Good girl.” Arthur strokes my head, lifting me up and putting me on the bed. It was strange how quickly our relationship turned kinky, but I really liked it. Really really.

“Anything for you, sir.” I coped at him. He squeezed my lips together with one hand.

“Anything?” He taunted.

“Yes, sir. Anything.” I gave him seductive eyes.

“Play with yourself. On the bed. Now.” He growled. I felt myself getting wetter. I sit, looking into his eyes without breaking contact, spreading for him. I put my fingers on my clit and rubbed. I imagined him in me. It wasn’t fair to have him here in the flesh and him not doing anything to satisfy us. Me.

“How does it feel, pumpkin?” He asked. I bit my lip.

“Really really good sir.” I remembered him aiming his gun and shooting his boss, and I was almost cumming.

I screamed his name as I finished, squirting on the bed. Arthur laughed slowly.

“Look at my messy girl!” Arthur remarks, as he sits next to me.

“Ready for round 2?” He asked as he stuck his fingers in me. I moaned so loud. I felt him pressing on my g-spot, and his thumb circling my overstimulated clit.

“Ah, fuck, Artie......” I said weakly.

“You like that, baby girl? You like it when daddy touches you? When you let him fuck your tight pussy?”

(A/N: SORRY if this is cringe I don’t know how to talk dirty lmao. Can you tell I’m a virgin lmaffffooo)

“More than anything in the world!” I exclaimed, gasping with pleasure. I look down at his groin, noticing he too was ready for round 2. He takes off his pants, wearing only his shirt.

He thrusts in and out of me, and I revel how good we fit together. How each stroke sent waves and waves of spasms throughout my body. It was so much. I ached and begged him to let me cum.

“Come one baby, cum for daddy.” He groaned, and as I came again. As he pulled out, some of his cum leaked out of me. I worried about getting knocked up. Arthur would leave me.

“Why such a serious face, Avis?” He questioned with a small smile. I couldn’t tell him. He would be so mad.........

“Just thinking. It’s nothing, really.” I smiled gleefully.

#joaquin phoenix #joaquin phoenix joker #joker 2019 #joker fanfic #joker fanfiction #arthur fleck

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fanzen · 6 years

Text

Five Times People Thought You Were Dating - SHxReader

4. Have a Cigar

“Hey,” Hyde's voice hissed into your ear, pencil eraser poking the back of your neck. “I need a smoke.”

“So, go smoke,” you muttered back. “First floor bathroom is perfect for that.”

“Outside,” his breath was warm on your skin. “C'mon, we'll skip bio. No one will notice.”

“That you're gone, you always skip bio,” you looked over your shoulder, catching a glance of his bright blue eyes and smirk.

“You know your problem, you're a stick in the mud. A genuine square,” he shook his pencil at you, flat-faced. He knew this was a good manipulation tactic - goading you. It only worked from him. Maybe because you cared very little about what others thought, aside from Hyde.

You frowned, sighed, and nodded. “Fine. Asshole.”

His smile grew broad, “Sweet. Meet you after class.”

“Right,” you were going to get in so much trouble. At least it would be with a friend.

Hyde met you by your locker, pulling off his usual cool guy slouch, sunglasses and all. He looked, head to toe, like a parent's worst nightmare. Hippy, vaguely socialistic, reefer-loving punk. Damn you that you found it attractive.

“Everyone's gonna know what we're doing if you stand like that,” you joked, putting your books away.

“Nah, I told everyone we're hooking up in the bathroom so they won't look for us outside,” Hyde replied casually, examining his fingernails.

“You what?!” you slammed your locker door shut, staring at him red-faced. He only laughed, and you punched his shoulder. “You asshole!”

“Okay, okay, I didn't,” he chuckled, rubbing the spot you hit him. “I was kidding.”

“I'm not rescinding my previous description of you,” you narrowed your eyes, quickly retrieving your purse with your favorite smokes and light inside. Hyde always bought the cheap stuff. If you were gonna get sick with lung cancer and die, you'd like it to be at least a little worth it.

“C'mon,” Hyde took your hand. A practiced motion from childhood, derived from your mother’s instructions before crossing a street. Now it was used whenever you or Hyde felt like it. It added a small sense of security for the both of you. “There's a great spot near the garbage bins…”

“Joy, fresh garbage-scented air,” you snarked but followed all the same, trying not to smile.

“Like we're getting fresh air anyways with all this noxious smoke we're pulling into our lungs,” he smirked, threading his fingers in yours.

“Maybe it's a government conspiracy,” you waggled your eyebrows. “Getting us all to willingly take in small tracking devices or something.”

“Maybe,” Hyde shrugged. “But some things are worth being spied on for.” He opened the exit door for you with a little bow and wave. “For you, milady.”

You stared at him suspiciously, “You're being weirdly nice to me.”

“You're being weirdly… weird,” Hyde scoffed, but you thought you saw pink in his cheeks. “Hurry, before some rat sees us.”

You headed out with a backwards glance, but you shrugged off the odd feeling gathering like a ball in your chest. Hyde shut the door behind you and pulled out a battered box from his jacket, tapping out a single cigarette. He quickly put it to his lips, snapped a light for it, and drew in a deep breath; he let out a stream of smoke with a sigh.

“That's the good shit,” he shook his head, relaxing. You snorted, stealing his hand in yours, and taking a drag. You coughed it out, scowling.

“Cheap shit, Hyde,” you returned to your brand and didn't see how he stared at his cigarette in a mix of disbelief and jealousy. Instead, you sat on the bottom stoop and enjoy the warm breeze. Even if it did smell a bit putrid.

Hyde took a seat beside you, thigh to thigh, “Yeah, well, I like the cheap shit.”

“Reason one thousand four-hundred and thirty-six why you'll never get a girlfriend,” you smirked, flicking ash at him.

“Yeah well, I don't want a girlfriend anyways,” Hyde snorted, fixing his face into a scowl. “It's all a giant Hallmark-sanctioned scam of BS to control the masses.”

You raised your eyebrows over his vitriol, “Wow, so how’s your period been going, Broken Heart Barbara?”

“Shut up,” he laughed, shoving your shoulder, and you counted it as a win. Especially since he didn't stop there. He adjusted, with his elbow balanced on your left shoulder, wrist dangling with the cigarette clamped between two fingers. You naturally leaned in - his musky odor, the faintest trace of marijuana, and nicotine scent a familiar mixture to you. It was easy, being with Hyde, and you loved that. Despite the way your heart raced around him, and sometimes your palms did get really sweaty, and even when he gave you that stupid smirk and seeing his blue eyes… well, all that diminished nothing.

It meant nothing, of course. You ignored the quivering inside of you, trapped it down, and beat it to death with a thousand baseball bats.

There’d be none of that.

“You know,” Hyde got closer, lips closing on his cigarette without moving his hand. His eyes looked up at you just over the rim of his rose-tinted sunglasses. He said your name, wreathed in grey plumes, and was very, very close to you.

He was about to say something, his mouth was opened, his eyes were half-shut, and your heart was about to burst from your chest.

“Ahem,” you both turned to see none other than your vice principal standing behind you.

“I knew we’d get caught,” you groaned.

“Lovebirds, inside,” the stern man jerked his head towards the door.

“We’re not lovebirds,” you both denied in sync with similar, irritated expressions.

“Well aren't you lucky, detentions make great first dates,” the man smirked.

#Steven Hyde #Reader #Reader insert #SHxReader #Steven Hyde x Reader #fluff #list #possibly the right amount of tags this time idk #Steven x Reader #just in case #StevenxReader #smoking #skipping class #you bad kids you #bio is pointless #skip it

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mysticmedusa26 · 6 years

Text

Tony Stark Yes Iron Man Not Recommended

After Ultron the avengers had moved to the compound and Tony had all but quit the superhero game. He still had his suits and updated them often or built new ones. The avengers didn’t even contact him anymore and somehow that hurt a lot because he had thought they were friends. Tony had tried to call twice but each time Steve had been too busy to talk to him. Rhodey at least stayed in contact and Tony found himself thankful for his long time friend. Alone in the tower Tony realized that he could finally do what he wanted. No one was there to be offended by how he wanted to be in his own house. With a grin Tony rushed to his penthouse to get what he wanted.

So this was how Tony Stark, superhero, iron man, and the man with horrible impulses found himself standing in the common room's living room a cup of coffee half way to his lips frozen as Loki stared at him.

“Well shit, can we please forget you saw this and you just kill me after I change my clothes?” He asked with wishful thinking.

Tony was many things but among them was a dark secret of being a secret fanboy of several super-villains. Steve would be so disappointed and Pepper would probably kill him with her heels if she knew. So in his secret desire to drool over and fanboy over some villains along with his own perversion of loving to wear sexy women’s lingerie he found himself dressed to his heart’s desire of fanboying over Loki.

The god stood there eyes dilated and licking his lips as he looked over the corset top in his colors, the sexy lace panties in black with green that matched the top spiked heeled boots, and a fashionable golden crown with small horns like Loki’s helmet.

“You’re wearing my colors.”

Tony studied the god a moment willing his racing heart that told him he should kneel for the god to calm long enough for him to either die with grace or pray to whatever god he didn’t believe in that the avengers never found his body.

“Well I’m kind of a fan boy and you’re smoking hot and smart as hell to the point I would kneel before you if I could just poke that beautiful brain of yours for even a moment…damn brain to mouth filter why don’t you exist?” He cursed himself realizing he was telling Thor’s insane little brother he had a boner for him.

“Fan boy?” Loki said stepping closer his armor and staff vanishing.

“Ah yeah…”

“You’d kneel before me?”

Tony felt his heart race as he nodded.

“What would you do for me on your knees?” Loki asked lust dripping from his voice as he licked his lips.

“Fuck, anything you want.” Tony answered dropping to his knees in front of the god.

“Good, I have a very long list of what I want from you my dear.” Loki said grabbing the mortal’s head and pressing him to his crotch where a very impressive piece was waiting for his attention.

Tony was certain he would die but he was going to enjoy the path that led to his grave.

Tony probably should have taken the random appearance of Loki as a sign that he shouldn’t go around fanboying or stark naked(pun fully intended) but he was Tony Stark and he did what he wanted. So that was how he found himself another day doing what he wanted and in the common room again naked staring down the winter soldier. His dick showed his attention within moments and he looked down before meeting the soldier’s eyes.

“Well fuck, can you just ignore the fact that I find you ridiculously hot as hell and just let me put on some clothes before you kill me?”

The soldier looked down at his hard cock and began removing his gear.

“Ah soldier?”

The soldier closed the distance between them and grabbed his hair to pull his head back and seal his lips with his own. The kiss was deep and passionate and shut off Tony’s brain for the two hours the solider had him in any and every position he wanted him in.

When he woke up still alive, alone, and unable to walk Tony wondered if he just attracted villains. Not that Bucky Barnes was a villain but he wasn’t exactly a good guy with all the winter soldier programming in his head. The pain in his lower back was a familiar one and he sighed content with the fact the soldier had used him for his own desires before leaving. He should probably wonder why the soldier was even there but he was to happy to at the moment.

Tony decided he wanted pie and it had been years since he’d baked anything. While most believed he couldn’t cook to save his life the reality was he was actually really good at baking. He had just pulled a pie out of the oven when he turned to find his tower had an unexpected visitor. That wasn’t the worst part though as Tony was naked other than the apron that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Yes he still went around naked, it was his house and no sudden arrival of villains was changing that.

“So before you kill me can we please sit down and eat this pie? It would be a shame for it to go to waste.”

Magneto knowing his suit was useless to him actually sat down with him not commenting on his lack of clothes. He saw the mutant’s eyes widened at the taste of the pie and without a word when he was finished he picked up the rest of the pie and took his leave.

Tony wasn’t sure how he was still alive but he was beginning to wonder if his charm was what was saving him.

Tony had been in his workshop for nearly a week without sleep. He was in that state of sleepiness that Clint had described as cute as a basket full of kittens. He stumbled out of his workshop with his hair a mess in a way that always made even Natasha want to pet him like a kitten. Surprisingly enough Tony could purr and would snuggle up to the first person he came into contact with.

So when he stepped onto the common floor he didn’t hesitate to go over to the stranger in his home and snuggle up to him. He buried his face in his clothes and wrapped his arms around him. If he had at least had some sleep perhaps he would have realized he was cuddling Doom and would have called for the suit. Instead Doom was much like Natasha and unable to stop himself from petting him. The sound he made in his sleepy state had Doom picking him up and carrying him to the couch to let the inventor get comfortable and cuddle up to him.

It was only later when he woke up to JARVIS telling him what happened and showing him the footage that Tony thanked whatever god was watching out for him that he was adorable and loved cuddles.

Loki had arrived again making himself at home without asking. Tony had come up from the lab to find Loki there sitting on the couch naked.

“I desire your mouth to pleasure me.”

Tony didn’t even question it as he settled between Loki’s legs and began sucking the god off. He only realized they weren’t alone when Loki spoke.

“You can stand there all day or you can fuck this beautiful little creature while he has his way with my cock.”

Tony didn’t even stop what he was doing as he felt the familiar feeling of a flesh and metal hand gripping his hips. He was deep throating Loki when the soldier thrust into him with a force that was both painful and pleasurable. Loki was petting him as he managed to continue skillfully sucking the god while being pounded into by the soldier.

When both still remained there after they’d had their fun Tony wondered if the two were going to become permanent residents of his tower. Either way he knew he could still be naked whenever he wanted so he didn’t really care either way.

Tony wasn’t sure how this was his life now but here he was in the common room of his tower at the table with Loki, Bucky, Magneto, Doom, and oddly enough Mystique. They were playing a variety of games like poker and black jack which had resulted in it turning into strip poker with the added twist of allowing cheating as long as you didn’t get caught.

Their game of course had come after a very extensive prank war which had Bucky currently with neon pink hair with far too bright orange highlights, Loki was currently stuck in his Jotun form because Doom had some magic, Mystique had clothes spelled onto her and could only be removed when she lost enough games, Tony had been spelled by both Loki and Doom to have cat ears and a tail to match his odd ability to purr, and Doom currently had a tramp stamp that read ‘Property of Tony Stark’ which wasn’t a prank pulled by Tony but by Loki and Bucky who were a terror when teamed up.

At their table they had beers(or in Tony’s case a smoothie because Loki and Bucky didn’t want him drinking anymore because Loki had seen his liver and threatened to do terrible things if he ever undid the damage that he heal) and homemade pie. It was apparently world saving pie which Tony didn’t believe until Magneto and Mystique had threatened to destroy the city if there wasn’t pie waiting for them when they visited which was oddly often.

During their visits of course prank wars happened, weirdly enough science happened because Doom and Loki were both smart as hell and Tony was tempted to clone them, and game nights happened with the added bonus of pie and occasionally a movie.

So this was how the avengers found them when they suddenly decided to make a visit. Doom was almost completely naked because he sucked at poker and was only wearing his underwear, Loki was topless but still had his pants and boots, Bucky was in a similar state, Mystique was naked which she seemed happy about because she didn’t like clothes, Magneto the bastard was a master of poker and had only lost his cape, and Tony was half way bent over trying to remove his underwear when the group stopped by.

“Well shit, I don’t suppose you guys will not shoot me so I can finish my game night?”

“They try and shoot you and I’m going to kill them. Remove the underwear Stark, you lost this round and you know the rules.” Bucky said already dealing the new game.

“Yes do hurry, I wish to be the victor yet again tonight.” Magneto said clear humor in his voice.

“I do not understand how you keep winning, I’ve been cheating this entire time.” Loki said taking the hand given to him.

“Well Lokes maybe you should try skill.” Tony said making the god stick his tongue out at him.

“I think I’m still winning seeing as you’ve lost enough to be naked.”

“Tony what the hell?” Clint snapped.

“Game night, also I stopped the major villains from terrorizing the city.” He said returning to his seat to see his cards.

“Bucky? Wh-what did they do to you?” Steve asked looking like someone kicked his puppy.

“Prank wars punk, don’t worry I got Doom back by giving him a tramp stamp.”

As though proud of it Doom showed off the tattoo.

“It was a glorious war and I shall have my vengeance later.”

“Just remember no more trying to remove and hide Bucky’s metal arm from him. Last time I was almost certain he’d throw Mystique through a window.” Tony said as he looked over his cards.

“I would have to if Loki hadn’t teleported me to your lab for cuddle time.” Bucky said a faint grin on his face.

“Tony you want to explain why villains and the winter soldier are in your home?” Natasha asked while Thor was just staring at his brother who was sitting comfortably in his Jotun form.

“Well it’s a long story but I kind of stop them all from being villains with pie, cuddles, and sex.”

“Don’t forget the hint of fanboying.” Loki said as they continued their game.

“Yeah maybe a bit of fanboying but they don’t need to know that. Anyways come join us, grab a beer and some pie.”

All eyes looked up glaring at the avengers.

“You get no pie or I shall destroy the city.” Magneto said pulling the pie closer to him to protect it.

“Hey Magneto there’s plenty of pie. I made like five today so you could take some home.”

To the utter horror of the avengers the mutant pulled Tony into a hug not even seeming to mind the fact he was naked.

“Let go of my fella or I’m going to put a knife in your skull.” Bucky warned glaring daggers at the mutant.

“Oh let our darling inventor be hugged for a bit, it will make it so much more worth it when we punish him for allowing another to touch him. I say we chain him in our bedchambers until he learns his lesson.” Loki hummed as he revealed his hand thinking he’d won.

“I like how you think but you still lose.” Bucky said revealing his cards.

“Damn you mortal, how have I lost again?”

The others revealed their hands and Bucky did indeed win that hand.

“Awe yeah babe time to strip!” Tony cheered.

“You just wish to see me naked darling.”

“Oh yeah I do you sexy blue god.”

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Rhodey cried out to weirded out by the scene.

“World peace in progress is what’s going on Rhodey. Now go grab some pie.” Tony scolded.

“Brother?” Thor asked confused.

Loki raised a brow.

“If you are to ask a question brother you will need more words.”

Thor didn’t add more words because Loki had called him brother. He claimed a pie for himself earning some glares but with the promise of more pies baked later the group didn’t kill the thunder god. The others finally gave in and after trying the pie Clint moaned at the taste.

“Oh god no wonder they’re no longer villains. I would turn into a villain if meant getting more pie.”

There were hums of agreement and soon the others joined their game. Steve had a terrible poker face and was naked within a few rounds. Natasha was eyeing the super soldier and soon Clint was also outright staring.

“Stevie you might want to watch out, looks like two spies are eyeing you.” Bucky warned Steve.

Tony leaned over to the duo and whispered, “Loki is bigger.

Loki smirked having heard them.

“They do not get to touch me darling. Only you and our beautiful one armed assassin.”

Tony grinned until it was clear Natasha was just going to keep wiping the floor with them. Even Magneto who was all around champion of card games was left naked by the end of the night.

Like with every game night Doom, Magneto, and Mystique left afterwards stealing the pie as they went. The avengers however stayed and Loki turned Bucky’s hair back to normal.

“So this is a thing you do?” Wanda asked curious.

“Yep, no set time they just show up. Anyways I’ll give you guys time to talk or whatever.” Tony said intending to leave Bucky to Steve and Loki to his brother.

“Are you intending to leave us dear kitten?” Loki asked with that unbelievably sexy pout that Tony couldn’t say no to.

“Put the pout away I’m staying.” He said already curling up to the god.

Loki smiled as he hugged the inventor. This was his life now apparently. Game nights with former villains, sleeping with the enemy, and the avengers realizing his file should have said Tony Stark yes Iron Man not recommended.

#tony stark #bucky barnes #winteriron #frostiron #rated m #marvel #crack treated seriously

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indieks · 6 years

Text

Silent Treatment 🔉 Mark Tuan || Part.3

💭 Pairing : Mark Tuan x Reader

💭 Genre : Angst, Fluff, Supernatural-ish

💭 Word count : 24.9k

💭 Synopsis : Ever since his accident, he has forbidden himself from speaking ever again, as his voice hasn’t been useful the time he had needed it the most. Until he meets you, the one and only girl that could possibly help him overcome his trauma, as you make his heart and mind want to speak up again. You, who can hear his deepest thoughts through your special ability, yet still doesn’t see him as a desperate mute, but a mysterious man worthy of your care.

💭 Notice : The sentences written in bold are Mark’s thoughts, and when *written like this between stars*, it means the character can hear them.

Part 01 🔇 Part 02 🔈 Part 03 🔉 Part 04 [END] 🔊

💭 A/N : Finallyyyyy I’m publishing Part 3, I’m so happy! And as surprising as it might be (or not), I decided to split it into two because it would have been way too long otherwise...

I’m sorry to have taken that much time and I’m really appreciative of your patience, I hope you’ll like it as much as I liked writing it, even if I teared off my hair numerous times doing so...

As always : I would never pretend that I know about psychology and how to treat patients! Everything comes out of my pure imagination! And please, if you ever feel bad for any reason, reach out, you matter! ♥

Also, any comments, good or bad, are welcomed! I love your feedback, really! Thank you again and have a nice time reading!

Disclaimer : I can once again proudly say that the GIF is mine!

How come you could smell like pomegranate and raspberry when you had bathed in an aquarium filled with cigarette smoke and splashes of spilled alcoholic drinks for hours?

How come your hand on his could feel like a blanket of fire covering his own that had loosened its grasp on the parapet separating the both of you from a free fall?

And how come his other hand was moving itself towards your waist before it landed on your back and pulled you closer and closer, extending the kiss which was melting his lips that didn't seem to have enough?

Mark kissed you another time, his lips as soft as feathers, and as taken aback as you were by his sudden skinship that was crumbling your spine, you still kept your eyes closed and even allowed yourself to level up your hand on his neck to entangle your fingers in his sleek blonde hair.

No bad thoughts anymore ; just the distant buzzing of cars rolling down under your feet and the muted cheers of your friends wishing a happy birthday to Jena another time, mixed with some background dance music. Your headache was nowhere to be felt, because your brain had stopped functioning – or more accurately, it was focused only on managing your pounding heart that was about to implode because of the current events.

Suddenly, your mouth felt cold, the wetness his had left on it meeting the night's fresh breeze as Mark finally broke the kiss, slowly, his eyes opening to meet your flustered face that was still so close to his. You mirrored his awakening, your pupils at first looking down due to your sudden shyness, before you dared to stare at him. You were surprised that he hadn't pushed you away yet, his hand still against your back, and your right hand still lodged on his scalp while the other one on the barricade had now its fingers between his, as if they were holding each other.

Mark's breathing was shaking and really loud once again. You gazed at each other for a few seconds more, his hooded eyes searching yours, and soon your face betrayed your inner accomplishment, as you smiled. You genuinely smiled at him, before slowly retreating your hands in a wish to give him some space, but surprisingly, the boy swiftly caught the fugitive near his neck to place it on it again, giving you the chills and the crazy butterflies while your eyes opened wide. Then, without you seeing it coming either, Mark's head dropped heavily on your left shoulder.

"W-What's wrong? Are you alright?" you couldn't help but ask as you stumbled back, your eyes looking at his bent back now under them.

The sensation of his hair against your flesh was ticklish as hell, but you were willing to bear it just to be close to him, and just because he had definitely showed he wasn't on the defensive side anymore. Mark seemingly nodded – you deduced it by feeling his forehead rub your shoulder up and down – and he finally let go of the barrier next to you to properly secure you in his arms.

*I'm feeling… Weak.*

Mark's legs were indeed trembling and his head was spinning after this overflow of emotions and sensations, and even if you were the very trigger of the earthquake that was shaking him to the core, you were also a pillar he felt like he needed to hold onto, or else he would fall to the ground right now. So you hugged him back, smiling to yourself at his thought that somehow was cute, and you let him gain a bit more of consciousness.

Your touch was soothing him, the pattern that your thumb was tracing on his neck almost drifting him to sleep, and you closed your eyes too as you enjoyed this intimate moment you weren't sure you'd be able to share again another day, when alcohol would have left his body and mind.

*What did she do to me…*

"Does a kiss always put you in this state? You're worse than any high schooler!" you joked, and Mark's shoulders jumped slightly up and down, sign he had chuckled.

Maybe a kiss had weakened him, but it also had made him so soft and so reachable when he had been trying to dig some space for the last few minutes, paddling hardly away from you while you had swum to him against the current, without abandoning. Well, now, you could pat yourself for your determination.

The blonde guy finally straightened himself, taking a step back doing so, and he put his hands in his perfecto's pockets before looking at you while biting his lower lip. You felt empty not feeling his body against yours anymore, and your heart lost it once again as you were anticipating his next move.

But Mark felt more troubled than you, his mind paused and not helping him to decipher what he should do next, while his heart… Well, this bloody piece of shit was now craving to spend the rest of the night with you. Something he hadn't done in the past two years, something that should scare him or he should deprive himself of ; however, his fingers were writing something else on his phone right now – with a lot of drunk typos.

"I wanan go homee. I'm totallt donz. Come w. Me"

Wait. What?

"Are you sure about that?" your reasonable side suddenly manifested itself – where were you all this time?

Fuck, yes, he wanted to write back.

But Mark only shrugged as his eyes dropped from his screen to your face that was tearing all his usual defenses apart, and when it was enough to give him some unwelcomed chills, he – hardly – directed himself towards the windows he finally opened, popping the little bubble you both had been in, but like a lost fish you immediately followed him. He looked at you over his shoulder once you both had stepped in, before indicating by a move of his chin the little crowd surrounding your friend who was thanking everyone one by one.

As you caught him stumbling on his feet and walking far from straight to the door, you grabbed his arm before dragging him until you pushed him against the wall right next to the exit.

"Wait for me here, I'll be right back. And don't you dare leave" you warned, tapping lightly his chest with your index and with a frown of a disagreement, the mute slightly nodded so, without a second confirmation, you turned on your heels and stormed towards the guests.

"Y/NNNNN! Where were youuuu?" Jena exclaimed once she spotted you as you made your way to her, and she enlaced you. "Thank you, for everything, I love youuuu"

"Oh my God, and here I thought I was drunk" you laughed before kissing her cheek. "You're welcome darling. But I'm sorry, I came to tell you that I'm going, I have someone to take care of…"

Without further questions, Jena understood what you meant and as she also had someone to deal with for the rest of the night, she kissed you goodbye after having gained your promise to tell your quartet the whole sequel the next day.

Thankfully, the blonde hadn't moved from the spot you had left him in, his head dropped down and balancing from the left to the right, sign he was slowly drifting to whatever dimension the alcohol would take him to. Once you had approached him, you could almost hear him pant softly, his voice merely audible, but the fact that it was almost going out of his mouth drowned a wave of thrill on your body. You energetically took his right arm before wrapping it around your neck, and you were surprised as to how light he felt once he let his body weight lean against yours.

"Let's get you out of here, you're so hammered I swear" you laughed at him.

You weirdly felt ten times better just by looking at how much of a mess he had become after you had shared a kiss, because, on the contrary, it had invigorated you and cleaned up a bit of the alcohol filling your blood.

Mark sighed and he tried to straighten himself the second he heard you joke about his sloshed state, but the dark hallway under his eyes and feet wasn't helping as it couldn't stop waving.

*Shit. I'm ridiculous. C'mon Maaaaark!*

He was literally whining inside his own head, and you were two seconds away to burst out in laughter.

You both made it to the sidewalk to catch a cab, which luckily you did, and after having a hard time sitting your partner in it, you breathed out loudly as you dropped your head on your seat.

"Address miss?"

"Oh shit, Mark, type me your address please" you shook the boy a few times, but he was already sprawled against the passenger door, his eyelids closed with a lot of pressure as he was wishing to fall asleep.

"You gotta be kidding me right now. What's wrong with you? We need to take you home so don't be silly and give us the address!"

You jolted him another time with more force, before you quickly caught the impatient stare of the taxi driver in the rearview, and you smiled at him with the little willpower you had left.

"You don't know where your friend lives?" he asked suspiciously, his fingers tapping the wheel.

"Wait a minute please, I'm sorry" you pleaded as you killed Mark with your two eyes. "Mark, please" you pinched his thigh.

*Leave me alone!!!! I'm tired!!!*

"Ya! You're the one who wanted to go home and you're also the one who wanted me to come with you!" you protested, your forehead wrinkling as your brows leveled up to match your frustration.

You didn't understand. Why was he completely knocked out all of a sudden? Your concern was however stepped over by your anger, but as it looked like he was determined to play the baby, with a frown on his sleepy face and his arms crossed firmly, you reached for your own phone and dialed Jinyoung's number.

The very Jinyoung who was busy kissing and cherishing the curves of your friend right now, so of course, you ended up hearing his voicemail instead of his own voice. You sighed, and if the driver had been about to open his mouth in complain, he remained quiet as he saw you take action, your hands digging directly into Mark's pockets to take out his phone, and the latter didn't even budge, definitely falling in outer space.

"Mark. Your password."

The blonde barely opened an eye, and suddenly, a low grunt came from him, vibrating under his chest and freezing you at the same time. Had this really been a semblance of his… True voice? Had you really caught something produced by his vocal chords right now? Well, what confirmed you you hadn't heard voices inside your head was the driver sighing at the sound before he lightened a cigarette to pass the time.

"He seems in a very bad shape, your friend" he stated somehow sympathetically.

"That's why I need to take him home..." you merely answered in a desperate voice.

*I can't remember I can't remember I can't remember... Why can't I remember? What's wrong?*

"Tuan! Focus! Or else we're sleeping on the street tonight!" you warned.

*Oh would you shut up, I can't focus if I hear your voice... You're the one who's disturbing me*

Is he starting to blame me again?

His moans sounding like the ones of a child filled your eardrums, and you were starting to feel as tired as he was, except that it wasn't manifesting by you turning into a freaking corpse, but making you want to bawl your eyes out.

"How come you can't remember? You're so frustrating seriously! I don't know, is it a compilation of your favorite numbers? Hm? Or maybe your birthday? One of your friend's birthday? Or your mother's birthday?" you proposed in a rush before you were going to lose it, but you instantly regretted having mentioned his mom without considering how big of an impact it could have.

And it did. Because Mark's expression turned into a sad one as he slowly uncrossed his arms to take his hands out of under his armpit, before he showed you numbers with his fingers.

*Mom. How could I forget. Sorry...*

"1 - 3 - 0 - 2 - 1 - 9 - 6 - 3" you spelled discretely as you watched his counting and cautiously typed, and the phone did unlock, revealing a wallpaper of the boy at the age of 7 or 8, smiling brightly in his mother's arms, and the drunk you definitely let out a sob at the sight.

Mark reopened his eyes to spy on you quickly, disturbed by the sad noise you had just made, but luckily you were unreadable for the first time in your life, as if the picture and the password's meaning had made your heart squeeze, the little part of your brain that helped you stay conscious urged you to brace yourself and to stick to your original task : get his address.

You dialed the number of the first roommate that had popped up on the screen in alphabetic order – that is to say Bambam – but without further success, the never ending ringtone knotting your throat. You then tried Jackson, but it was worse as it didn't even ring.

"Ya, if you're in trouble and your friends are out to party, don't even try to contact them they're unreachable" you mumbled annoyingly, making the boy chuckle.

You didn't hear it as you were focused on calling Youngjae or Yugyeom, your last hopes for the night because Jaebum hadn't answered as well – how surprising by now.

Mark was totally conscious – well, pretty much conscious –, and if you happened to know that, he was sure you'd kill him. But every time he opened his eyes and they met your face, his vision became blurry and his head would float too high for him to follow and remain sane before you.

So, he was unable to focus on anything but himself so he'd keep calm. Yes, he wanted you there. However, right now, he was helpless, every single one of his senses overstimulated and making him unable to think of his own address. The only thing that plagued his brain was your lips, your lips, and... Your lips. While smiling at your remark, Mark licked quickly his lower lip and he swore it still tasted like yours. An indescribable flavor he was craving to feed himself with another time, and he would have gladly helped you get to his flat sooner so he could do exactly that, but hell, he was feeling so weak.

*I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry...*

You eyed him worriedly as you had his phone next to your ear, waiting for Youngjae to answer. Your heart sunk to your stomach as you heard him apologize, thinking wrongly he was feeling guilty – once more – towards his mom for having forgotten his password, when in fact, he was apologizing to you for his lack of strength.

"Helloooo?" a chanting voice finally covered Mark's, and you almost cried of relief.

"Youngjae-ah! Help me please! I need your address to take Mark home! Please!" you urged him and the boy's joyful laugh managed to appease you.

"He's asleep already?"

"No, he just forgot it… I know, that's unbelievable…" you grumbled lowly as you looked out the window.

"Hyung forgot it?! That’s weird, it never happened to him before… I'm sending you a text! You're lucky to have chosen me to call!" Youngjae joked over the music.

Chosen was not the right word, as he had been the next to the last resort, but well...

"Thanks a lot, I'll owe you one!"

The driver finished his cigarette and he smiled at you, seemingly not pissed by the two plotzed messes he had in his car anymore, and once you received the freeing message, he started the car with your sigh as the signal.

"And you owe me one, seriously" you hissed through gritted teeth while staring at the blonde on your left who had crossed his arms once again and with his chin down on his chest, looking like a small creature in a deep sleep.

The travel was quiet, you fighting your sudden urge to sleep as the past situation had used up your nerves, and Mark apparently having fallen in a deep sleep as you couldn't hear his worries anymore. He looked so peaceful, his traits the most relaxed you had seen them up till now, and you couldn't help but stare at him without interruption, submerged by his beauty but mostly by how reachable he finally seemed.

In fact, you were once again wrong. Mark wasn't sleeping at all, his heart too busy running to let him rest, without mentioning his brain that was playing again and again your kiss scene. But as it evoked him anything except for bad thoughts, you indeed couldn't hear a single thing. He was feeling good and bad at the same time ; good because he was craving for more of this unfamiliar but comfortable sensation, and bad because you had sucked up all his energy for a while.

Until you reached your destination. You hadn't felt nervous about going to his place, but as you stepped out of the car and didn't even have to help him as he paid the taxi driver and walked to the gate on his own, you suddenly felt intimidated. It was as if his little sleep in the cab had filled him up with all his usual straightforward attitude, and you followed him silently after having bowed an umpteenth time at the driver who discretely wished you luck.

But you didn't need luck at the moment ; you needed confidence, and it was nowhere to be seen. Mark held you the main door and even let you enter the elevator first without caring about your eyes full of questions. His own were shining again instead of being hooded, and he managed to open the flat's door at first try, making you more and more suspicious about his drunk state.

"Were you playing me in the car, and even before? Being a deadly mess and everything? Because right now you seem perfectly fine so let me doubt you for a second" you spoke up as you laid your back against the wall next to the open kitchen.

Mark ignored your questions, simply eyeing you over with his favorite non-existent expression once he reached the island, making you sigh. That guy was definitely a never-ending mystery : whenever you thought you were starting to understand one of his facets, another one showed up and messed up your leads.

He hadn't bothered to turn on the lights, but the huge bay window of the living room was letting the city lights tint the room in a pretty blueish tone, the color surely seeming more vivid thanks to the liquor sparkling in your veins, but it still wasn't as beautiful as the man you were facing on quivering legs right now.

He was gulping down one glass of water after another, with his back now turned on you as he mechanically pressed the refrigerator's button. Then, he offered you the last one, putting it lazily on the counter separating your two bodies, before he firmly crossed his arms.

"Thanks…" you politely accepted, and your hot body gladly welcomed the fresh liquid in hopes that it would soothe your overexcitement.

Mark was so close, and it was only the both of you in one room ; a huge one, yes, but still, there wasn't enough space for you to remain indifferent. Not after having kissed him. Not with him thickening the tension between the both of you because of his silent treatment. And certainly not under his two almond eyes that stared at you as you downed the glass in no time too, but your precipitation – and well-known clumsiness – caused the slide of two thin fillets of water from each corner of your mouth, rolling down your chin to your exposed neck.

*She doesn't even know how to drink. And here I am the drunk one? Seriously…* you heard him scoff to himself, a cocky expression disguising the few of his face you could see in the dark.

You ignored it as well as your embarrassment, wiping the small disaster with the back of your hand, still you caught the burning stare of Mark on your lips and wet throat, almost making you gasp.

But I find it… Attractive. Fantastic, Tuan. Wonderful, I'd even say.

Was it because it had been too long since the last time he had ever invited a woman over that his body suddenly died to fulfill some filthy needs the more he kept his gaze on yours?

He felt needy for your touch and his mouth on this humid skin, as deep down, he knew he wouldn't be satisfied by just a kiss this time. The air floating around your duet became constricting, and so did Mark's field of view as it narrowed on you and you only, synchronizing with his thoughts that had been punctuated by your name since the beginning of the party.

"You should answer my question. Were you faking it in the car? Because if you did, you're a dead man."

Your clear voice shook the blonde off his trance, and he rolled his eyes before talking in sign language as an automatism, without even considering your knowledge of it, his hands clapping together and tapping his chin and jawline, the whole process in an evident annoyed way. You indeed couldn't understand sign language ; you had never learned it, but luckily for you and unfortunately for him...

*I didn't fake it– oh my God that girl… I was really fucked up and about to die, you know that? And that's your doing, so don't complain!*

He hadn't pointed at you though…? You were too drunk to feel the guilt of invading your crush's privacy, but also to tell him the truth about you not getting the sign languages, and the boy didn't seem to be about to think of this huge probability anyway, as he simply shove his hands into the pockets of his jeans once he was done.

Had he really transmitted everything you had heard, or had you stolen another hidden element without him wanting it? And why the hell because of you? What had you done again? Was the infinity of blames going to start all over?

I should kiss you again and you'll see if you'd still want to be mad at me all the time, you thought to yourself as you defied his eyes which were throwing darts at you.

Mark's heart was pounding again, and hot flushes were overwhelming him. And like earlier, out of nowhere, he effectively felt angry. Angry to be staring at your lips and to be wanting them so bad right now. This thought was scaring him as well as it amassed a bundle of excitement into his stomach, flaring his guts, but also tingling his hormonals' instincts.

I need to stop, now. Before I do something stupid.

He suddenly shook his head and walked back to the living room, storming past you as he threw his perfecto on the leather couch, and he even unzipped his white blouse before putting it over his shoulder.

What is he doing?

You suddenly became tensed to see him undress even if no skin had truly been revealed, his large T-Shirt being the lone survivor on his upper body, because your primary instincts were also playing games with your reason.

"Where are you going?"

Mark stopped in his tracks, and if he had been about to showcase words with his ringed fingers once again, he finally remembered you used to communicate through texts and not sign language, but as he spotted his crumpled jacket on the sofa near you in which pocket the communication tool was, he sighed in defeat.

*Shit my phone is up there, what a dimwit...*

He became too lazy to go back and pick it up, but also to type a text correctly when his cells were hurting as they fought with the image of your kiss still lingering, so he barely indicated you to follow him without further explanations. His traits were perfectly detoured in the dim blue tint, and it gave you the chills as a few strands of hair fell on his eyes following his head's movement. You breathed in and out calmly once his face left the place for his scalp to take it, and you quietly followed him to his bedroom.

*I'm hot... I'm fucking hot... I'm so hot...* he kept on repeating, and you were glad to learn that you weren't the only flustered one here.

His bedroom was cozy and quite organized, with black bedding and seemingly gray walls with some pictures taped on them, a wooden desk with only a few things covering it around his computer, but what caught your attention were the fluorescent stars fixed on his ceiling above his bed, making you smile at this somehow childish but cute decoration. Another aspect of his personality you wouldn't have guessed.

However, when your eyes detached themselves from the astrologic artwork, they dropped on his bare back right behind you, while he was digging into his wardrobe hastily. Your mouth turned dry at the sight of his thin composition but still traced arms, and you snapped your head back towards the bed on the other side.

Does he even eat? you questioned yourself as you had been more troubled by his small silhouette than by the fact that he was actually half naked in front of you – though your palms and forehead became sweaty.

"You could have informed before... changing" you finally noted in a low tone, and curiosity started to eat your insides and pull at your neck muscles so that you'd look back.

And you did. Nevertheless, this time Mark had turned around and you jumped slightly when you faced him, making the blonde snigger quietly with a smile full of mockery, but you had no place to be happy about him smiling thanks to you this time, as you were too shaken by his indeed traced but so skinny chest that was still bare, with a silver chain hanging around his long neck and dressing his apparent collarbones.

*As if you've never seen a guy's chest in a bedroom... Y/N the prude? My ass* he laughed at you internally, and the urge to kick his sassy ass filled up your veins, but when he extended his left hand with a pair of sweatpants and a T-Shirt in it, your crush for him fell for this kind of cute gesture and melted your irritation down.

"Where's the bathroom?" you asked in the most neutral tone you could use, your eyes stuck to the soft fabric you welcomed between your fingers before you forced yourself to level your pupils up so you'd get his silent answer.

Mark unexpectedly opened his bedroom's door that was at the end of the empty corridor, and he then pushed the one on the right as well as the light switch, and you were amazed by the size of the room but also its kind of luxury, making you gasp.

"We don't have the same standards, I see..." you mumbled in awe.

You disappeared behind the door without catching his amused reaction, but once he came back into his own room, Mark placed a hand on his heart and he even slapped himself, as his body was trembling all over.

*Brace yourself! Why are you like this around a girl? You look like the one who's never been in a room with one, huh? Wake up! Wake up!*

He stopped his lecture when he suddenly heard your chuckle, cutting through the deep silence hovering over the whole flat, and with furrowed brows, he finally pulled a tank top over his chest before dropping his jeans for a pair of sports shorts.

You came back in no time in the bedroom now plunged into a sifted ambiance thanks to his small bedside lamp, and as you closed the door behind you, you bit your lower lip so that you wouldn't laugh in his face. You apparently were putting him in quite a state right now, and finally the confidence you had wished for was flooding again through your body.

Mark got intrigued by your cocky smile and your eyes on him that were somehow betraying your inner sensation of victory, and he even took a small step back when you came across his standing figure, only to put your folded clothes on the desk next to him. The boy was completely overstimulated, as when your arm barely brushed his, he felt like an electric shock had attacked his flesh, dressing his hair and almost giving him a spasm.

"I guess we can't talk anymore because you don't have your phone, so let's just put ourselves to bed, you tired me I swear" you simply stated as you retreated, your face appearing in his sight again but closer than what he could endure, and Mark discretely gulped.

He observed you as you hurried yourself to the bed and pushed the blankets aside before sliding on the comfy mattress, getting your body the closest to the wall it could be. The second you lied down, the stars above your head spun slowly, reminding you of how high your alcohol use level was. Your heart became similar to a heavy hammer slamming against your ribcage, and your chest burned as well as it got covered with chills, as if you were a prey to a terrible fever. Well, you were quite intoxicated by the strong personal scent of Mark's clothes and sheets, a perfume that evoked you of a warm and comforting embrace.

The latter was still standing next to the bed, his brain on a full stop now that he realized you were actually under his sheets, and he felt even more distressed as he felt his eyes on you. Your curves suggested by his oversized clothes totally disappeared as you pulled the cover up till your collarbones, but Mark already had had the time to picture things in his head you certainly couldn't hear as they only evoked him good sensations, until he cursed himself for that.

You can't sleep in here, Mark. You don't want to be that kind of asshole. Do you? Wait, why not? *That's right, you just want her like that. True to yourself.*

A wave of panic and sadness hit you as you heard a strand of his thoughts, your hammer heart falling right into the pit of your stomach. You eyed him as he remained in the same position, and you suddenly wondered if you shouldn't rather sleep on the couch instead of right next to him. Why hadn't you thought of this more than evident possibility that his drunk self – and maybe true self as you heard – had invited you over just to… Sleep with you?

Not that it wasn't reciprocate at all on your side ; it would be a lie, and your thick and alcoholic blood could testify for yourself as Mark's lustful regards had made you somehow blush and had weighed your boiling fingers aching to touch him too. But you, on your part, had feelings for the fake-mute ; and your battered heart couldn't let you do the undoable tonight, or else it would be the one suffering from your apparently one-sided crush that would become deeper the second you'd give yourself to him.

"I think I should sleep on the couch, I'm sorry I shouldn't have-"

You hadn't had the time to finish your rant of excuses as Mark had taken his decision, quickly turning off the dim source of light before he put himself to bed at the other extremity of the mattress, his back turned on you, and your cheeks were similar to two cooking pans once again.

"I'll let you sleep now, I'm leaving."

*Oh just shut up.*

And your now seated self did.

And stay.

And it neither moved, at all. You started to fumble the sheets covering your thighs with your fingers as you felt uneasy about having been so at ease around him, so sure of your – wronged… – intuition. You blamed the alcohol for having made you enthusiastic about everything that had happened earlier tonight, and without a doubt inciting you to grant his wish for you to come. That wish heavy of innuendo you hadn't smelled, and that had led the both of you to this embarrassing situation, at least for you who knew his intentions now.

So that's what the electricity you had felt jolting between the both of you had hidden when he had deepened the kiss? So that's what he had meant when his hands had held your back so tight?

Alcohol and sex only, really…?

Mark had actually his eyes wide open and the side of his face leaned on his joined hands was burning them, sign of how fervently his inner war was pursuing itself. Those hands were aching to touch your body once more, and he couldn't forgive himself for being that primitive, as if he had turned into a wild beast on alert for the mating season after having somehow hibernated – for more than two years in his case.

It had been so long since he had wanted someone that bad, since he couldn't help but allow his desires to light him up, since he had went to bed without feeling lonely and anxious with a wave of dark thoughts crashing against his brain.

However, Mark still wished he could become sober in an instant, so that he'd gain his composure and stop his unholy wants that were taking over his whole mind. He wished to fight them and repel them deep down as he had been doing ever since the accident ; but it was you, and he craved to make love to you exactly because of this reason.

You were special to him, as only you had awakened a burning passion striking his core just by a touch of your lips, just by the way your fruity perfume had caressed his nostrils, just by matching his clothes so well. You had made him feel so good in a long time, helping him to forget about his inner pain, and feel alive again when he had been living like an emotionless being.

It was you, and not the other girls in whose arms the guys had pushed him into at their parties, hoping it would restore his taste in life. But the lonely man had always been blocked right before concluding ; he had hated how they had been looking at him with pity in their eyes, almost slipping into the shoes of a loose woman who would keep his frustrated self a little company and who would do him good for one night only.

But tonight, you hadn't looked at him that way. Tonight, he hadn't felt diminished, or pitiful in your eyes, not once. Tonight, your fierceness on the balcony had set him on fire. Tonight, it was you. However, did you feel it, too?

Mark guessed you were still sitting as he hadn't felt you move back to your original place on the left pillow, and even if his heart would have thanked him if he had ignored it and simply let himself drift to sleep in order to avoid his dangerous urges, his head full of you commanded him to at least care about your well-being, so he slowly rolled around on his other side until his eyes perceived your silhouette in the darkness.

Your two eyes were staring at the emptiness, glowing even if there were only a few rays of moon transpiercing the shutters to lighten them. Mark inhaled deeply as the need to feel you close stamped his chest down the second he laid his eyes on your body next to him, and he felt bad to watch you freeze into some cage of embarrassment you were obviously building around yourself right now.

You were more than embarrassed, and to be true to yourself, if you could have been alone, you would have already been crying. The souvenir of the kiss you had shared and the sincerity and purity you had received from it was crushing your brains as it ran over them again and again, and you felt like a fool. A fool for having thought you could make the difference in Mark's eyes, when you should have known he didn't want to let anyone in his heart anymore.

Sadness was drooling over you, as you were falling from high expectations his thoughts about you back at the party had built inside of you ; yet, you were realizing he had probably wanted to fill in the void for the night, and the nice girl you were had apparently seemed perfect for the job.

But why had everything sounded so true and desperate, as if the "she" in his callings had counted more in the equation than to result simply in a one-night stand? As if you truly hadn't been blinded by alcohol, or your own feelings?

*I don't like it when you look like that…* you suddenly heard him grumble, but before you could analyze his words, Mark's hands grasped yours that were still playing with the blanket out of anxiety, and he strongly pulled at them to signal you to come back down under the sheets with him.

Which you did, after having jumped in surprise, as if his touch had taken control of your moves, preventing them from leading you outside the door as you had planned to do once he would have fallen asleep. The second you reached his eye-level, you felt his hot breath follow the line of your neck, but you didn't dare to turn on your side to face him, forcing your back to glue itself to the mattress.

His drunken brain was barely compelling his inner wants now that you were within easy reach, and it was losing the fight with the lustful virus which had plagued over it. So, suddenly, Mark took an initiative, as his hands went up and down your right arm in a light caress, but this mere touch was enough for him to exhale loudly as the sensation of your skin under his was driving him over the edge.

Nobody had ever had such an impact on him ; nobody had attracted him like a magnet in spite of his hard work at repulsing others ; nobody had ever seemed to call for his lips which audaciously got closer to your neck, almost earning a gasp from you.

"I know what you want" you breathed out right before he'd actually lend a kiss on your sensitive body part, your voice trembling due to threatening tears mixed with your frustration.

Mark got hit by a wave of fright – and maybe consciousness –, so he abruptly broke the skin ship, leaving cold the spots he had overhang, before he lied on his back too, and his shaking pupils drifted towards the fluorescent galaxy upon your two bodies.

"And I know I said I want to help you feeling better, but this… This… I can't" you confessed, your eyes staring at the ceiling as well.

*Was I that obvious? That's so shitty of me… I'm sorry I'm so fucked up… I'm so sorry…*

Silence towered over you and crushed your heart as his thoughts kept on leading you towards the same conclusion, an uncomplete but still hurtful one. You chuckled sadly and it was Mark's turn to sit slowly, a sigh leaving his tingling lips. You watched him comb his light hair madly in frustration while he sewed his mouth again, so that it wouldn't let whatever excuse on his mind slip out without his command. How could he justify his actions when he was barely admitting that-

I think I like her. Shit.

This thought set his core on fire and popped fireworks into his head, some bodily reactions that easily confirmed what he had dreaded since the day he had met you again. All his questions about his doings were leading him to this scary conclusion,

Or else I wouldn't feel that desperate, right? Or else I wouldn't have wanted her to come over, or else I wouldn't have cared about her at the party, or else that kiss…

Mark was too drunk to be scared of these usually forbidden feelings right now. Moreover, all he focused on was finding a way to make you stay and understand that yes, undeniably, he wanted more ; but not because he was the asshole his depressed-self wished he could be to save his ass, but because he had already lost face in front of you yet didn't want to lose you, at least for tonight.

But his options were around the number of… Zero. His phone was too far away, and he was scared that the second he'd step out of bed, you'd take it as a signal to leave too. His voice was muted, so he couldn't talk it out. He hated that his brain was being so slow, and he felt some pressure under the time passing through his fingers, and so were you pretty soon going to if he didn't do something.

"I think I should go" you whispered as you sat down too, but you were surprised to feel his warm grasp enclose itself around your forearm.

Mark didn't even acknowledge you, his head hung low as he was thinking hard with his damaged cells of a solution to the apparent misunderstanding he had put the both of you in.

"Mark… I think you heard me. I'm not going to give you what you want. Sorry if you believed that when I kissed you."

*I don't want that only, you're wrong… It's not like that! You don't know me…* he complained in an irritated tone, to the great pleasure of your ears.

"Stop lying to yourself."

*No, I'm not anymore, you don't understand for fucks sake* he got mad at your misinterpretation, his head shaking from the left to the right as he finally looked at you with all his might so that you'd read his honesty he wasn't burying anymore.

"Well I don't want to understand! What I want right now, is to go, because it's uncomfortable for me! I don't even blame you, so stop!" you retorted, forgetting about the protection of your secret.

*No, don't leave…* his voice turned weak once again.

A quiet sob swarmed at the back of your throat and you quickly grabbed his hand before wrenching yourself out of his grip.

"Stop it…" you moaned. "You've whined to me all night long, but I'm not some kind of lovely lady who's going to entertain you for the night."

You were about to take action and jump out at the end of the bed, but the man was quicker than you and before you even had reached a proper crouched position, Mark caught your two arms and sat you back down next to him, your shoulders banging one against the other.

You snapped your head towards his, and his sorrowful look gave you the chills, almost making you feel guilty to turn your back on him when he clearly was vulnerable and reachable right now, probably for the first time since the accident. Yet, you were determined to get out of this apartment without any regrets ; you could deal with remorse.

"Let me go, Mark. You're worsening-"

*Stay, please! That's not what you think. That's not what you think, I swear. That's not what you think…* he pleaded with his eyes, his brows knotting and wrinkling his forehead in concern.

His hands climbed up to your shoulders, somehow rotating your bust towards his and he kept saying no with his head while biting his lower lip.

"What can I do to make you stay?" he finally asked in sign language – his last resort actually – and you heard it without permission once again, as his head was now only bogged down with worries that were stressing him out.

You could have been smitten by his look that was locking your two pair of eyes steadily, or even by the trembling of his moves he repeated again and again, asking the same question untiringly ; hadn't it been for your heart screaming at you to go away before you'd finish in his arms and out of his clothes.

"Tell me what it is, if that's not what I'm thinking? What else do you want from me? Tell me!" you rushed him, your hands reaching up his chest to push him a few times. "Tell me, because I wish I could believe you right now, but I fear that I'm right!"

You were having the weirdest and unlikely conversation of your lives, but neither of you was conscious of how deep the connection between the both of you was, as the liquor in your bodies could depict anything as normal, even the situation where a girl is answering a mute's silent lines.

Mark let go of his robot-like combinations to comb his hair in the back one more time, a movement he also had mechanically performed in hopes that it would help him clear his mind, but when his eyes only dropped down in defeat at your words, you sighed.

"I'm sorry, I almost forgot that you can't. Well, actually we know you could, but… Anyway."

Then let me show you, he secretly braced himself as the situation of emergency kept on stimulating him.

"I'm leaving. I still hope to see you at the next session, because you definitely need help." you coldly concluded while his eyes leveled up to search yours, only to get killed by them immediately.

Let me show you!

Mark's panicked hands managed to seize your jawline before you could move away, and he slowly brought his face closer to yours, setting it on a passionate fire. He then allowed himself to lend his lips on yours, in the softest way he could when his heart was in a rush now that he was finally kissing you again, when his mind was still imagining fleshy sequels at the back of his head, and when his body was aching everywhere due to his restraint.

*I'm sorry that I want you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.* But that's because… I think… I like you.

He broke the kiss, but as he caught the illusion of a doubt still veiling your traits and even heard your tongue clicking against your teeth in protest, Mark repeated the gesture more intensely.

He took his time, pressing with more force his mouth against yours which still tasted like he had expected it to do, stroking your cheeks in a tender motion as he wanted to treat you with caution and calm you down, and giving one kiss after another so that you'd feel the authenticity he wasn't able to word.

Soon, his body was overpowering yours as he kept on bending forward to intensify the kiss, and he dropped one of his hands to land it on the mattress as he tried to keep balance, meeting one of yours that had done the same. Finally, the left side of your back met the cold wall, tickling your skin with chills even through the fabric of his clothes.

You hadn't had the strength to push him away ; too fond of his touch, too drunk to react, and too desperate to steal the one chance to get a hold of his buried feelings and intentions you wished you were wrong about in spite of what you had heard. Mark retreated for the second time, a gentle sigh leaving his wet lips and which mingled with the hot fans you were fighting with, and you stayed frozen in your spot, staring back at him with defeat falling before your eyes like a curtain.

Like earlier, sharing a kiss with him had made you feel that something between the both of you was real, and that maybe, just maybe, you were more than a pastime to Mark, like he was more than a psychological case to you.

Believe me.

*I'm sorry that I want you that way. I'm awful. I know. I wanted to warn you about how shitty I am.*

I tried to warn you…

*But now that you're here, don't go. You told me you weren't scared...* he silently asked and to relay his secret wish, he took your clenched hand on your lap and brought it to his flushed face, before opening your fingers to lean in its palm.

He felt so worthy every time you were near, his emptiness whirling away the second you'd lay a finger or only your eyes on him, as if you were the spark he had needed to light up his inner flame, and the rampart around his heart preventing its broken parts from collapsing. Like a boomerang hitting him hard, all the time he had passed dodging the help and care of people was coming back at him now that he liked someone, and it made him seek for your affection.

His last words filling your eardrums got your heart stricken with culpability, and your already weakened mind definitely spun around to change its position as you saw him under a new light, with his eyes closed and his traits relaxed just as your skins met again, and it was as if your legs were nailed to the bed so that you wouldn't exit the bedroom anymore.

As he opened his eyelids, Mark saw you slowly nod in compliance, and he sighed in relief before he straightened himself to engulf you in his arms. His loud breathing brushed your hair, and you felt his fast heartbeat knock against your own chest as he tightened his embrace while your surprised-self just let him be.

*I'm sorry.*

I like you.

*I'm sorry.*

I want you.

*I'm sorry. Don't be scared.*

You wanted to believe he liked you back just as his eyes, his lips and his thoughts had told you and were still betraying him right now, burying the part of you that had been scarred and scared a few moments ago. So to soothe his apologies and worries that kept flooding in your empty head right now, you eventually hugged him back, your hands even stroking his spine that was standing out of his thin body.

You let yourself get carried away when he lied back down, extending his left arm so that you'd lean the side of your head on it, all the while gazing at him. He looked so peaceful and so sure of him now, splitting with his lost and tired image at the party earlier, and you welcomed butterflies flapping their wings within your stomach as he approached and hesitated to kiss you again, his eyes searching for your permission he quickly got as you got closer too.

You felt his hands mingling with your hair and his tongue asking for entrance that you allowed, and you finally abandoned yourself to his tender kisses which even peppered your cheeks, nose and forehead.

Silence reigned into the room, and with his forehead now against yours, Mark closed his eyes before he tried to let himself drift to sleep, the alcohol taking the best of him and his relief relaxing all his tensed muscles. His lust had finally vanished and his heartbeat became peaceful as you were stroking his back up and down slowly, and after another peck you couldn't help but give him, the blonde sighed in contentment and dozed off.

You couldn't sleep. Your head wasn't full of his thoughts anymore, but they had been replaced by yours, more specifically dozens of interrogations and mini-replays of everything that had happened tonight, keeping your mind busy while Mark's was finally taking some rest.

His right arm was secured around your waist, but as he had started to move after an hour or so – you couldn't tell for how long you had both been lying down by now –, his embrace was less sturdy and his body had slid a little bit below yours, with his face turned towards the ceiling, so you could stare at him incognito and tirelessly.

He was beautiful even when he was sound asleep, looking all peaceful and like he'd been engraved in marble as his face muscles didn't move without his consent, nor did he snore. A true sleeping beauty. His loud breathing was contrasting with his collapsed-looking body, but this air sound was like a melody humming in your ears that had been hurting from their overcapacity.

You had told yourself you'd deal with remorse tomorrow, yet it was already eating your insides as you knew, the more you were gazing at his face and the more you were remembering his desperate expression or the passionate kisses he had given you just to make you stay, that your crush was blooming into something more beautiful people would say, but that would cost you a lot.

If you had assumed that your chances to meet him again were slimmer than a blade of grass and had been ready to forget about him, well less than a month after your reunion, there you were, lying next to him in his bed, under his sheets, in his arms, and with the sensation of his lips on yours still lingering as you bit them out of anxiety. And most of all, Mark had seemed to hint that he, too, had a thing for you. But would he take back his words tomorrow, once the alcohol would have evaporated from his body and he'd be his withdrawn and lonely self again?

You were shared between mixed feelings making your heart ache and your body sick ; happiness to have caught some of his inner thoughts about you that could comfort you, but worry that they would fade away and become a mirage, a momentary bliss to him when it was so real to you. After all, he had been so scared of you up on the balcony yet so sure a few moments ago… You didn't know which facet you should trust more at this point.

As you were tormenting yourself again and again, Mark's traits suddenly turned into a sad frown, his lips falling and his brows furrowing, and a sound cut right through the silence but also your heart, as he groaned loudly. His voice couldn't have been clearer than right now, and your blood turned into ice as you straightened yourself on one of your elbows to watch over him.

And to petrify and worry you even more, Mark started to breathe in and out quickly, as if he was having a dream that got him scared or choking, then he whimpered again. Every time a sound came out of his lips that were now half opened, chills were going down your spine and sweat was lining up on your brows that were knitted in confusion. You were frozen in your own body, not knowing what to do as you shouldn't be panicking because of a nightmare, yet Mark seemed to be suffering a lot at least on the outside, and that was killing you.

"Don't… Help… Me… Help… Me… No…" Mark muttered and this time, your heart imploded as you definitely saw him talk on his own.

His breathing intensified and he completely turned on his side, getting closer to you while his right hand falling behind your back clenched the lose fabric of his shirt you were wearing, and you felt how tensed his forearm on your waist became under the strong grip.

"…Help… P-Please… No… Stop…. No…" he kept on moaning in a higher tone than his usual one, between two shaking sighs and with his face now close to your collarbones.

A torn expression painted his traits, and it made your heart bleed at the same time. You couldn't stand it, you couldn't witness his pain anymore when you had already heard it all night long ; and this time, you could actually do something about it, at least by waking him up and be there for him, helping him to land on the ground of reality after he had been facing turbulences up in dreamland.

"Mark… Shhhht… It's okay…" you whispered as you looked down at his scowl, and you dared to reach for his cheek with your left hand, cupping it and stroking the burning flesh.

But unexpectedly, the boy broke into a sob, before he cried. He cried quietly at first, still tears flowed intensely down his face he instinctively buried in your chest while his grasp in your back tightened, and you felt that your own waterworks were at the verge of coming out. His shoulders began to shake at each sob and soon, he was weeping out loud.

Why was he crying? What kind of dream was he having to be in such a state?

In your eyes, it was as if all his inner pain he wouldn't word was breaking free from its constricted prison where it had been serving its life-sentence for more than two years now, and you could see it rolling down his cheeks, or forcing its way out of his throat in a hurtful sob to the point you were fearing he'd need to gasp for air.

Spotting his weak and hurting side without his "poker face" to disguise it was crushing your heart, and you felt your body tremble at the sight. Mark was alternating between crying painfully, whimpering some pleads you couldn't understand anymore, and suddenly turning quiet but with a tortured expression still distorting his traits ; and all of that, within a minute that turned into an infinity of time as this vicious circle repeated again and again.

"Mark, shhhht… It's okay… I'm here… Calm down… I'm here…" you were repeating in the sweetest tone you could when your throat was in fact knotting itself as you were affected by this awful scene.

However, your soothing words were seemingly starting to reach him in whatever sleep stage he was right now, as the more you kept on calling his name and telling him not to worry, the more his frown was disappearing and his sobs were lowering, the only trace of his misadventure being the wetness of his face you had tried to wipe the best you could, but the boy seemed to have a lot to let out as water couldn't stop drowning.

Perhaps was he dreaming of the accident even after all this time, or something related to it?

You couldn't imagine how terrible it should be for him to relive this trauma again, and what shook you the most was thinking that it may be the case every single night. But wouldn't the boys have found out if he was moaning that loudly?

Another suitcase of unanswered questions piled up on your brain as you watched over him with teary eyes, your hand still caressing his face that had finally started to dry on its own, and you leaned to grant his sweaty forehead a kiss.

You felt his hand finally let go of the T-Shirt you were wearing before it slid down your waist, then Mark brought it to his pounding heart he knocked absently a few times, his fingers clenched in a fist. The steady breathing was back, but a pout was still dressing his thick lips, so you slowly brushed them with your thumb, in hopes it would help removing it faster.

But instead, Mark started to pant in a faint tone, his deep voice coming out at each one of his exhales, sign that he hadn't fully escaped the gloomy trap his nightmare had dragged him into, and you felt powerless once again.

"Shhhht… It's okay… Everything's gonna be okay… I'm right next to you… Don't worry, I'm here… Next to you… It's just a nightmare… I'm here…" you tried once more with a stroke of his blonde hair, and suddenly, at these words, the boy barely opened an eye, but it still met yours that grew wide.

Mark's eyelids felt puffy and kept on battling as he tried to awaken, but you quickly kissed each one of them as an invitation for him to go back to sleep. You who always had something to say when people were feeling bad, had randomly gotten scared of not finding the right words if he ever had woken up entirely, as you couldn't guess in what state he would have been after this emotional trip.

Still, between two slumbers, Mark managed to take you back into his arms and he clung onto you, his face finding its hideout between the crook of your neck and the pillow. This time though, his right hand went under your top but without having any misplaced gestures, just guided by his need to feel you so that he'd believe in your previous words that had winkled him out of hell and were soothing his trashed head right now.

Soon enough, he succumbed to a dreamless sleep, somehow appeasing your distraught heart but on the other hand, you couldn't help but stay awake with "what ifs" to keep you busy once again ; and what if he has another nightmare? and what if he cries again? and what if he needs me? and what if I stop stroking him? and what if...

Black, pure coffee, with its strong perfume and sour flavor : nothing better to shake Mark out of a thick morning mist – and a strong headache –, not even some hangover soup the guys always spared in the fridge. His swollen eyes were staring at the buildings on the other side of the street, the windows welcoming the rays of the morning and soon-to-be noon sun, the golden reflection sometimes blinding him.

The flat was quiet, all his friends sleeping sound as they surely had come home only a few hours ago, and Mark sighed in contentment after having gulped down his energizer. But soon, this satisfactory feeling faded away like the smoke foaming from the little cup he put on the kitchen's island, as his puzzled thoughts about last night were starting to stick together one by one, recalling him of some things that had happened, but in a random order and with missing words or gestures you or him had had.

"Mark… It's okay… I'm here… It's just a nightmare…" your soothing voice came to his ears, and cold sweat licked his spine, as he remembered little by little.

For the first time, after two years of dreamless nights – when he hadn't had insomnias –, Mark had seen images and escaped to another dimension for a moment during his sleep time. However, it had been somewhere he wished he'd never go back to. That nightmare, as realistic and terrifying as it had been, was still giving him the chills and his stomach bad cramps.

How come he had dreamed last night? Why now, after all this time? Why hadn't he had the luxury to live a beautiful life for a brief moment like people around the world could, waking up with a smile on their faces? Why had he been stuck in that freaking accident again?

Yet, at one point, the body of his mom next to him in the car had been blurred, so had the blood reddening the scene, and the cold of the night had stopped brushing his bruised skin, as he had been attracted by some light calling him from far away. The closer he had gotten himself to it, the more he had heard your voice, the more he had recognized your touch, and the more he had felt secured in a safe place where nothing would happen to him anymore.

You. It was always you who saved him from his inner demons lately. But it was also you, who had provoked this dream, probably because you had unlocked some doors to his heart and mind, to the point it had freed the subconscious Mark had buried along with the rest of his emotions. Those very emotions that couldn't have manifested in another way than him crying, and Mark cringed at the thought of you witnessing his weakest state.

On the other hand, you surely had spent an awful night watching over him ; well, it had been written all over your worn out face when he had woken up next to you. Mark had stared at you for a while, sitting at the edge of the bed, and his hands had crumpled the sheets so that they'd resist to the intense temptation to brush your hair with his fingers. He had printed this image of you lying under his blanket and in his clothes as, like you had feared, his sober-self had decided to put an end to this story before it would even start.

Not because he didn't like you ; he did, he was well aware of it, and he couldn't deny it to himself – only if asked. But because the infamous feeling of guilt he had come to breathe in by now had made a spectacular comeback after alcohol had got ridded of it last night. The guilt of making you worry every single night and day about his state of mind, about his lack of sleep, about his depression, about the desperate case he was.

He had come to see how much you could care about someone and devote yourself to his or her well-being, yet he didn't feel like he deserved any of it. Not now. He wasn't ready to go down this road. He wasn't ready to give you his hand, not until he'd be able to walk beside you, and not dragged behind you like a cannonball because of how heavy the burden on his shoulders was.

He was so scared after having had this dream, reminding him of how deep his scars still were, so scared of letting himself go to someone without being sure he wouldn't darken their world with his gloomy aura.

Overall, Mark was terrified of how close he was to fall from the safe haven you had taken his heart to last night, the border between the smile you gave him and the tears his inner pain had stocked being so thin that he felt like a tightrope walker.

*I'm not ready to love, or to be loved.*

The familiar deep voice of Mark cut right through your sleep and resounded in your ears, becoming clearer and clearer at each word he had thought.

After a difficult battle with the heavy curtains that were your tired eyelids, you finally managed to wake up under a ceiling deprived from any shining stars now that the sun had seeped into the room through the shutters' holes. You felt woolly, your body numb from any sensation, and most of all you felt cold, as the hot air coming from Mark's nose had stopped caressing the base of your neck.

When did you fall asleep?

You couldn't remember, the last thing coming to your mind being the vision of Mark crying and most of all talking, and it suddenly fed you with some energy. You stretched, your toes curling and a whine leaving your dry lips, and you quickly sat down, feeling gloomy at the sight of the empty spot next to you. However, some noise dispersing in the bedroom caught your attention, and your eyes were happy to meet Mark's silhouette before his wardrobe facing the bed.

When did he wake up?

"Hey…" you greeted in a raspy voice, your hands touching your head to flatten your messy hair.

The blonde turned around and you grew timid under his stare, the dark circles drawn under his eyes giving his look even more depth and his non-expression even more impact. He swiftly buttoned the pair of ripped jeans covering his legs, before pulling the bottom of the red hoodie he had passed on over his waist, and you tilted your head to the side in incomprehension.

"Going somewhere?" you asked him as he had turned back to the wardrobe's glasses, yet you saw him dig into the back pocket of his trousers to take out his phone – so he even had had the time to go to the living room… For how long had he been up?

He quickly typed something and you contemplated his stern face through the mirror, your empty stomach torn as your fears from the night were taking over your mind, the ones of him neglecting you, the ones of him having wanted your company only for a limited time, the ones of him being influenced by alcohol and not being himself when he had kissed and held you.

Mark nonchalantly threw the cellphone on the bed, the object landing at your feet with its screen muffled by the sheets, and you gulped at this rude action before seizing it with rushed hands.

"Yes, so you should get going."

Maybe your sensitivity was due to your morning state, but you suddenly felt at the verge of crying as well as the one of jumping at him to kick his ass. His pleads of last night had put a stop to your questions, yet he was actually opening your internal debate once again. Had you been right about you being a rebound to his loneliness all this time?

"So that's it?" you demanded with a tight throat, trying desperately to get something else from him.

*Aish don't start… Not now. Please go* his brain betrayed him while he had only sighed in response, passing his ringed fingers through his humid locks.

"So you just wanted to fuck me, I see." you provoked him bitterly before quickly stepping out of bed, going straight to your things folded on the desk.

You didn't want to believe it. He couldn't pretend before your two eyes that it had been his one and only ulterior motive when he had insisted again and again for you to stay, before taking over your mouth by kissing it quite lovingly. You didn't want to be right.

The second you walked past him and grabbed the door knob to go change, Mark landed his hand on your wrist and energetically pulled at it so that you'd turn around. You faced his annoyed expression, his eyes throwing bullets at you before he suddenly went to his bed with you walking in his steps, and he retrieved his phone with his free hand.

"What? I'm right, aren't I? You brought me here last night, you obviously tried to have something with me but oh, I'm sorry, you failed! So now you're asking me to go because you don't care anymore. What else do you want to add?" you ranted with all the anger you had accumulated towards his coward self, while the fake-mute didn't bother to acknowledge you as he was busy typing something on his phone in his left hand, using his thumb the fastest he could.

"Or maybe is it because I actually saw you cry? Don't tell me-" you started to scoff in disbelief as the boy froze when you mentioned his tears. "You're not for the cliché of "Men are not supposed to cry" aren't you?"

*When does she stop making assumptions?! She's exhausting I swear!* you heard him bitch into his head and yours, before he showed his screen to you.

His grasp around your wrist had tightened and you were starting to hurt, but you couldn't care less as it was a proof that you were getting on his nerves and picking at the right spot.

"Maybe that's just because I really have things to do? Or maybe that's just because I don't want to see you anymore? It was a nice time yesterday, thank you, but let's stop things here Y/N." he had written neatly.

You laughed at this somehow honorific answer, its politeness evidently hiding a hint of sarcasm and an urge for you to disappear from his sight, as if you were burdening him right now. It felt worse than a rejection, because you had already tasted his lips and had been the subject of his affection yesterday ; still, he was selfishly taking it away from you, and you didn't get why.

You needed to know why, even if it would hurt your pride or your feelings, but you'd sleep better while knowing you were just a sexual attraction, rather than with another set of questions ready for your brain to eat them up but never digest them.

"Really? Why did you ask me to come then? Why did you beg me to stay? Why did you kiss me like that? Or may simply I ask if you're fucking KIDDING ME?!" you burst out as you finally smacked his hand on your wrist he immediately released, and you rubbed the burning print his grip had tattooed on your skin.

Mark had forgotten about this little detail. The vague souvenir of him pleading for your company made him want to dig his own grave right into the floor of his bedroom, as he felt even more embarrassed for having been clingy. However, as sour as the pill had been, it also proved him right, as he surely wouldn't stand a relationship where he would depend on you like that. He couldn't do that you, nor he could do that to himself.

*Not now. I can't. I'm not ready.*

Your eyes widened at this familiar thought you still couldn't understand, and Mark sighed again as he gently took your hand this time, before leading you in the corridor. You didn't protest, too flustered by the sudden kindness in his gesture when his hardened traits were telling how pissed off you had gotten him, but your heart was becoming heavier at each step getting you closer to the exit. He opened the front door then brought you outside by a curved movement, and you stood face to face for a split second, your arms extended before you as your hands were still linked.

"Goodbye then." he signaled with his fingers that let go of yours and a somehow a sad expression finally taking the place of his serious one.

Your mouth had barely opened that Mark was already closing the door after having disposed your shoes at your feet, leaving you speechless. You managed to swallow back the accumulated tears at the corner of your eyes as you stood before the panel for a moment, feeling ridiculed but also abandoned, in some way. How come you could have felt so close to him and his heart yesterday, yet so far away now? What you had shared would really turn into a "nice time" among other ones, like he had said?

*I'm sorry. I'm too messed up to start something now, Y/N…. I'm not ready.* you unexpectedly but clearly perceived, as if he still was standing on the other side of the door, mirroring your pitiful body that didn't seem to be able to turn away.

Your heart vibrated in your chest as hope embraced it, and a smile regained your pouting lips. You came down from your emotional rollercoaster, as Mark's inner truth reassured you another time. Once again, he had been playing the cold guy in front of you just like he had done on the balcony, because he still was… Scared?

"Why do I want to wait for you…?" you wondered out loud, in a moment of bliss where your heart spoke for yourself and threw away your usual vigilance when talking back to somebody's thoughts, just like the night before.

Like you had imagined, Mark had indeed been standing up right behind the door, with his forehead against the wooden surface and his eyes closed. His heart had neither seemed at ease with the thought of letting you go, as it strongly pulled his body towards yours, so much that he couldn't return to his bedroom nonchalantly, as if nothing had happened, as if he didn't care.

And when he heard your voice wording the answer he had secretly wished for, Mark's body and mind dissociated.

His hands hurried themselves to grab the door knob and he opened it with haste, regrets and sweet souvenirs taking the best of him. But you were already gone, the sound of the lift going down being the only thing he could hear anymore, matching with his heart that fell to his stomach.

However, on the other hand, his mind was slowly tracking down his memory, as it felt familiar with your perfect answer, once again going along with his thoughts without him having worded them. It evocated him of bribes of a conversation from the night before, some indistinct and incomplete murmurs coming to his ears, but the same question he had asked himself in the car popped up in his head : How could you always get his point?

"Y/N? Y/L/N Y/N!" a voice called your name in a whine, but it rather was the hand agitating before your eyes that root you out of your daydream.

Three weeks. Three long weeks had passed since the party, yet not any sign coming from Mark Tuan. You felt stupid for having thought that he would come back for you anytime soon or that you could actually wait for him, as it surely meant to wait a lifetime, looking at how panicked some kisses or a girl in his bed had made him feel.

But surprisingly, your gauge of patience seemed to fill itself indefinitely, your hope making you gasp at each notification coming from your phone, or every time you met his friends that greeted you in the hallways, but without ever mentioning him.

You had finally recalled the thought that had woken you up that morning, "I'm not ready to love or to be loved", and if deep down you knew it should have been the signal for you to let it go, your melted mind couldn't stop thinking about him and anticipating something, anything.

It was worse than before, as Mark even purchased you within your dreams when you had wished you would escape from the strong grip he had around your heart at least during sleep time. Wasn't it supposed to be the only moment when your brain wouldn't actively suffer from your crush?

"Hm?" you answered Joon Hee that stopped her waving to finally eat again, her eyes looking at you with concern, and so were the ones of your two other friends.

"You're thinking of him again, aren't you? Didn't I tell you he wasn't worth it?" Cho A attacked, like she knew how to do. "Forget about him already, everybody saw how weird he became, and even if I heard your side of the story about that night and so on, he's still a coward! And we don't want cowards in our lives!"

You chuckled at her infuriation, her voice being louder than the whole rumpus roaming around the cafeteria, between the lively discussions and the sound of cutleries meeting plates as hungry students were devouring their meals.

"Cho A is right, I mean… You can't wait for him forever, don't you think? I know it's easier said than done, but we're worried that you still didn't move on, because in the end, you didn't spend that much time with him…" Jena spoke up, her hand landing on your forearm to stroke it so that you'd accept the hidden care behind her words.

However, that little time had seemed sufficient for your heart to like him truthfully. The latter was also fed with some worries caused by the souvenirs of his nightmare you had witnessed, definitely not helping you to turn away from him. Mark had seemed so sad and lonely, and the way he had held you to cry in your arms was printed on your skin, as if you were feeling him near again every night you lied in your bed alone. How was he doing now?

You sighed in exasperation as you too were feeling annoyed by your melancholic state that was clouding over your emotions and reactions lately. You were desperately holding onto that precious night and the feelings you had gotten from it, and you had even stopped hearing anything else than your own gloomy thoughts.

But what you needed to stop, was your fall into a loveless situation.

"I know girls, I know-"

"Heyyy" a chanting and sweet voice cut through your discussion, and you leveled your pupils up to discover Park Jinyoung, with a hand landing on his now girlfriend's shoulder and a smile plastered on his lips.

The four of you saluted him joyfully before Jena pulled at his T-Shirt to earn a shy kiss from him, but your heart crumpled at the sight of the rest of his roommates gathering behind him.

"What do you want, sticking around me like that?" Jena joked in a cheesy way, and you booed with your friends in mockery, reminded of the old Jena who wasn't a bit interested by love and almost found it ridiculous. "O-Oh hi guys!"

"What have you done to my friend?!" Joon Hee exclaimed in a devastated tone, and Jinyoung laughed wholeheartedly as he sat down at your table and so did the guys, Jackson taking place on your left with his tray full of plastic boxes containing his own prepared – organic, he boasted – food.

"I don't know, I think she likes me too much, that's understandable" Jinyoung offered while shrugging, before he laid his eyes on you who were smiling absent-mindedly.

Your friends immediately started to discuss with the six men, laughing and exchanging anecdotes about teachers or campus' life. But you couldn't participate in their debates nor you could enjoy the company, because the only sentences that were burning your tongue were the questions Mark had left unanswered : if he truly didn't feel anything for you, if his last thought or his behavior had indeed told the contrary, if he was doing well…

"Why don't the four of you come to our place to eat dinner on Saturday night? And after we can go out!" Jinyoung's offer caught your attention, and the girls immediately agreed without you having your word to say, but the boy noticed it. "What do you think, Y/N?"

Your brows arched and you tilted your head to the side, feigning to be thinking about it, while all the pair of eyes were going back and forth between the both of you.

"Well hum… I don't know yet, I'll see, I have tons of homework lately…" you invented while faking a smile.

You were scared to confront Mark, though you were dying to. He had embarrassed you to the fullest by tossing you out, and even though his last thought had been the shovel burying you in this hopeful and impatient state ever since, he still had left a strong impression that he didn't want to see you ever again, this will having stood out from his messages and his jaded eyes.

"And what if we say that our boy Tuan has something to tell you?" Jackson smiled slyly, his body leaning over his plate so that he'd get a better view of your reaction, and your heart did a blip, making you cough.

"Oh damn right he does!" Jaebum growled between two mouthfuls, his hands meeting brutally the table to support his dismay.

Everyone at the table smiled at their teasing – except for Cho A who rolled her eyes so bad that they could have been stuck at the back of her head –, as their childish side was surely amused by the situation, but you couldn't mirror the joyful expression. Right before the boys had appeared, you had been about to promise your quartet that you would gather some determination to really try and forget about your feelings that were going one way without you getting anything in return. But here the roommates were, telling you that the very owner of your crush might ruin your resolutions.

"And? That doesn't change anything, I still have things to do. Just give him my number, you have it" you directed your answer at Jinyoung, and you discovered your oversensitive side, as it unstuck your butt from your chair before you grabbed your tray. "Excuse me pals, but I have somewhere to go…"

You had nowhere to go, except for a hole where you would breathe in and out your emotions that were taking the best of you. The boys had merely joked around, their attempt being nice and small ; had it been under any other circumstances, you knew you would have laughed it out or even would have killed them with your retort. But right now, you were angry. At what exactly, you couldn't point it out ; probably yourself for being overwhelmed because of something that should've been nothing.

"Hey hey hey Y/N! Sorry, we were just joking…" Jinyoung ran up to you, as you were throwing the rest of your unfinished dishes in the trash a few meters away.

"I know Jinyoung-ah, it's just that I remembered that I-"

"I wanted to thank you" the boy smiled, cutting your speech full of lies that he had already detected.

"To thank me?" you wondered as you crossed your arms once you were done.

"Yes, we all do. Looks like two years of our hard work couldn't beat a girl, because Mark's been pretty different since the party, so we wanted to thank you for whatever you said or did to him" he explained as his hand brushed his dark but shiny hair.

"What do you mean by pretty different?" you simply asked before gulping down your bottle of water, anticipation drying your mouth.

Does he talk again????

"You'll see by yourself, if you come on Saturday, please?" he suggested, his small eyes squinting under his sad grimace that was about to make you laugh. "I can't talk for him, but all I can say is that he somehooow realizes that he's been dumb…"

Jinyoung's shoulder went up and down slowly at his last choice of words, and your heartbeat fastened crazily. Around twenty days had passed, and that bloody organ was still losing its rhythm just at the thought of Mark Tuan ; so how would it survive once you'd meet him again?

"And come back to sit down with us, hm? We're guys with no tact, I know, but if you flare up at every remark we make about you and our friend, you're only giving us more content to annoy you with…" he teased and you sighed before looking back at the table, all the heads turned in your direction with concern lightning their pair of eyes.

"Alright…" you grumbled in defeat, before you followed him.

Jena, you've chosen well, you told her with your eyes as you sat back at your place, and she smiled knowingly as she put her hand on the thigh of her boyfriend, feeling proud.

"Y-You know Y/N noona, we're on your side! It must be a pain in the ass to like him, he's so annoying! But we want you to win!" Bambam tried an implicit apologize, earning a shove from his best friend Yugyeom before being threatened by him with a silver stick.

You couldn't help but chuckle at this lame attempt that still had warmed your heart as you found it cute, then Jackson, being true to himself, began to get tactile as he passed an arm around your shoulders to redeem himself for his poor question.

You all walked out once everyone had been done, and Jaebum came to you, holding his backpack on one shoulder while his other hand was nonchalantly stuffed in the pocket of his large trousers.

"He's not talking again, if that's what you're wondering. Well, not yet" he spoke up with a smile as he had overheard your conversation with his roommate, his dark eyes having a hard time accommodating to the bright environment you had stepped in.

You looked at him with surprise then bit the interior of your cheek, regretting that your high expectations had obviously been written all over your face, so should have been the fact that you permanently were asking yourself questions about Mark.

The sun up in the sky was shining over the green and flowery campus, all the students lying on the grass to enjoy the nice weather, but it also worsened your hot flushes and the sweat wetting your off-shoulders top, even when you had taken off your jacket.

"It's just that… He seems less gloomy, I guess? And that's already a big change" he confessed in a sigh before he jumped a little to put his falling bag right into its place.

His relief at the well-being of his friend touched your heart, but it ashamed you at the same time, as you deduced from his words that Mark had been living his own life pretty well after that night, while you had been close to moping around just by recalling yourself the eventuality, no, the huge probability that it may never happen again.

They all were right… It was just a nice moment, you chuckled sadly in your head, yet it comforted you in your wise decision to avoid the dinner coming in a few days at all costs.

However, the little demon voice that had filled your brain with hope since the party rang another bell and pulled you towards the reverse decision : What does he have to tell me?

Four days after the party – At the guys' apartment.

Mark wasn't feeling okay with his decision, not at all. He thought it had been the right choice to spare you from his tormented self ; however, he was already dealing with the void you had left in him now that you were gone. His love for himself and for life that had been refilled just by spending a few hours around you, was almost emptied up, and it had been hard to step out of bed and go to work now that he reminisced your body next to him.

Nevertheless, he still felt at least ten times better than before he had met you again. Sometimes, a smile would rekindle his lips as he thought of yours or remembered the pleasing sensation of lust he had felt at the sight of your body in his clothes, and some spark kept on shining within his broken heart as he realized that someone might like him, or at least had been willing to wait for the douchebag he was.

His fears of messing it all up were trying hard at destroying the dreams he had come to build around the premises of a relationship he had imagined with you, but the precious memories he replayed on a loop were acting as a perfect repellant.

Yes, Mark had somehow pictured himself with you. You who always got him right, who put him at ease, who didn't care that much about his disablement and didn't even annoy him when you talked about helping him ; everything had been going on too fast between the both of you, but he had loved the speed that had made his heart race and his life way more entertaining.

All those elements were hinting at something : Mark had made a wrong choice, that morning. But his pride and his anticipation for the worse were telling him not to come back for you. Until…

"So did something happen, between Y/N and you?" Jackson asked in a suggesting tone as the boys were watching a basketball match on television.

"What do you mean" Mark answered lazily with his hands before they dropped back in the bag of Nachos he was feeding his stomach with.

"What he means is : did you go for it?" Jaebum answered flatly, his eyes going back to the screen with an incipient smirk curving his lips even if he was biting it back the best he could.

"No, nothing happened. It's not worth it anyway." Mark tried to convince himself, but his sensation of lightness was telling him exactly the contrary.

"How come it's not worth it? She's the first girl that seems to like you since so long, Mark!" Jinyoung sighed as his arms fell in exasperation.

"Well, first of all, thanks" Mark looked at him with despise in his eyes, but they soon changed target as the two youngest were laughing at the remark.

"S-Sorry hyung, it's just that… You're so frustrating sometimes" Bambam confessed while holding tight a cushion against his torso, in hopes it would contain his urge to laugh again. "She's a pretty girl, that obviously likes you and doesn't care about you playing the mutes, but here you are looking for problems! What do you need, in the end?"

"What do you even know about her liking me!" Mark got truly annoyed by all the stares at him full of mockery, his hands' moves messy and pressed, and he even threw a headrest at Youngjae who evidently was about to burst out.

"She asked me three times if you've been doing well in class, three times! And when we meet her at the uni, it looks like she's willing to run away, because she must embarrassed to face the friends of the guy that rejected her! Hadn't she liked you, she wouldn't care" Jinyoung exposed while pointing at his friend with his index, then he sighed, again.

Mark's face turned into a frown as he felt defeated by those arguments. He knew too damn well he had fucked up ; yet he lacked the guts to fix it. But at the thought of you truly liking him, his furrowed brows relaxed as his body welcomed a good sensation, that very sensation you had put him through every time you had looked at him, and Jackson didn't miss that.

"Look at him, he likes it! Oh my God he likes it so much! Ya, Mark, if you like her that much then why don't you stop being a coward for a second, hm? What's wrong with you?" his best friend called him out, and that shook the blonde out of his trance.

"She deserves better, than me! She deserves someone normal, not me! I don't want to be her patient, I don't want her to take care of me, I want to date her! But I can't!" Mark explained without thinking twice, his hands making some noise and hitting his chest and zones of his face with a lot of vigor, but the last part of his sentence froze him in his seat as it resounded in his ears.

Silence whirled around the room, the voices of the sports commentators being the only background sound the boys could hear as each one of them had turned speechless before their friend's huge revelation. Mark finally wanted something in his life, after two years, and something positive, something else than to live cut out of the outside world forever as an eternal punishment he didn't even deserve.

"Wow." Jaebum clapped his hands first, followed by the five others and Mark's heart jumped up in his throat while his whole face reddened out of embarrassment.

"We've finally made it guys, a round of applause is well deserved" Bambam joked as his hands kept on meeting loudly.

"Just do it, Mark! Do it! Your mom would have wanted you to date at this point, you know that?" Jackson provoked him with great gestures communicating his frustration, and the receiver got up from the couch before he stormed to his bedroom which door he slammed. "Of course you know it!"

"Ya! As we've found the new purpose in your life that has been way too boring lately, I'm going to nag you with it every day!" Jinyoung shouted between two laughs.

"Yeah, until you go and ask her out!" the Chinese boy overbid loudly, and as their mate didn't come out of his cavern after that, the boys guessed they had finally found the right path to his undeclared happiness.

And they did, nag him a lot. Every single day and every single night, to be correct. "Give her a chance", one of them would say. "Give yourself a chance", another would add. And the more they tried, the looser was Mark's conviction in his "No's", and he even started to laugh at their attempts.

The more they tried, the less he could listen to his mind imprisoned by his fears and traumas. It seemed like the boys had doubled their efforts to free him from his cage, and they weren't cautious around him anymore, not a bit afraid of the barks their friend was capable of groaning when they pushed him too much.

But this time, Mark wanted them to push him, again and again, as his footsteps felt righter when he walked down this road leading to you than when he was running to hide himself behind his inner walls. Slowly, the ice was breaking, the fire within him burning ragingly and eating up his insides as he kept on regretting his choice.

During those three weeks, Mark had been forced to reflect on himself thanks to the good vibes and the boosting provoked by his roommates ; and the main conclusion was that despite him, he had seemingly found something to finally make his blocking feel threatened of being ended up with, when it had been unmoved by all the previous attacks of his entourage.

Mark's heart was indeed beginning to be fed up with all the pain condensed in it, now that his owner had felt all the good he could win just from listening to it again. He was craving to feel that again.

Still, when the fake-mute had told you he didn't feel ready, he had been sincere. He couldn't ignore how scary and powerful his lingering trauma could get, reason why the guys had advised him to ask Woodam truthfully about how to eventually conceal a relationship and the two years-old monster in him you had put to sleep, but not killed. Not yet.

Saturday – 5 hours before dinner time.

�� I'm definitely not going, you were telling yourself as you ignored the umpteenth message popping up on your phone's screen, coming from the girls' groupchat in which each one of them was asking you what you were up to.

You didn't have the time to debate so you turned off the notifications, as you were now sitting behind your desk at your godfather's cabinet, all ready to immerge yourself into the next session coming up. You took the file at the top of the pile, but when your eyes read the name written on it, your hands became numb.

"W-Woodam?" you stuttered, your pupils still glued to the paper.

"Hm?" the latter mumbled as he was busy transcribing something on his computer.

"Why is Mark Tuan's file the next one? His appointment should be next week, right?" you asked carefully, and the time he took to answer was about to kill you.

"No, no, that's normal! He had an impeachment for next week so… I can't describe you how happy I was when I received a text from him, he didn't even cancel it! Looks like you convinced him last time" your godfather smiled at you, and your back crashed against your chair as you were baffled by the situation.

You had especially came this weekend to assist Woodam so that you could avoid Mark next week, following your plan to draw a line on your crush you had put in action despite the incessant questions obstructing your way, but it apparently was going to be a huge fail.

"Come in!" Woodam called as he heard the bell ring, signaling the next patient's arrival.

Just like two months ago, your heartbeat accelerated its pace, your hands turned moist and you felt uncomfortable sitting still as you waited stressfully, your eyes on the door. And just like two months ago, the second it opened, you zoned out and forgot about how disturbing staring at someone could be.

Mark closed the panel behind him and when he turned around, his eyes immediately found yours, opening wide and so did his mouth, but he quickly regained his natural nonchalance as he came to sit on the chair. His blonde hair was styled up neatly, only a few but planned strands of hair falling from either side of his forehead. He had opted for a denim jacket this time, matching his pair of jeans that were secured by a red belt, and his white polo's opened collar was revealing the silver chain you had seen shining around his long neck that night.

He was, as always, breathtaking, all your mind-control exercises becoming vain as you got closer and closer to tearing up from the lack of blinking, yet as his brown eyes plunged themselves into yours once again, you felt some frustration swirl into your stomach.

Why weren't you hearing anything? Had he been doing that well?

This should be some great news, but deep down, you had wished to hear him feel at least embarrassed to see you, or maybe express some regrets. But no, nothing came to your burning ears and you crossed your arms before poking your cheek annoyingly.

She's so pretty. I missed her face.

Mark had been taken aback to spot you at the back of the room, but the jump his heart had made when he had seen you had perturbed him more than anything else. That, was once more proving his choice wrong and his friends right, but it also supported the reason why he was sitting here today.

"Well well well Mr. Tuan, I'm so glad to see you!" Woodam exclaimed and Mark smiled shyly before bowing politely. "So how have you been doing?"

Shit, how am I supposed to talk about it if she's right here?

"I've been fine" Mark wrote on his prepared sheet of paper.

You were more and more destabilized by the fact that you couldn't hear a single thing. Was he telling the truth now? Contrary to what his friends thought, you hadn't done anything specific that could have helped him, no ; you had spotted him having a terrible nightmare, and even had caught his thoughts about him not being ready to receive or give some love, which was quite worrying. So how come he could be feeling so much better after three weeks?

Mark couldn't ignore your stare at him, and it was absorbing his courage that had helped him find his way here.

"I'm sorry but can she not participate this time?" he suddenly wrote, and your heart dropped at your feet before it felt like you were stepping on it.

A light of betrayal crossed your shaking pupils as you gazed at him for a few seconds more, then Woodam turned to you and said with a smile :

"Y/N, please"

You nodded without great conviction, your body automatically being polite when inside you were craving to ask him why he would do that in a less than courteous way, and you exited the room without Mark looking back at you as he couldn't support your intense stare. He felt like breathing again once he heard the door closing, while you were suffocating back in the waiting room that was, luckily, empty, just like your mind.

Was that hinting towards him definitely not wanting you to be around him anymore?

"I've met someone, doctor. And I have a few questions about having a relationship" Mark wrote daringly, pressed to have an answer now that he had seen you.

His chilly legs and arms and the hot waves ventilating his flustered face were speaking for him : you definitely weren't anyone else, and his body was stimulated every time you were within his reach. He couldn't get enough of this new sensation, and he was preparing himself to get drunk with it.

"Oh? That's good, tell me, Mark" Woodam got intrigued, and he leaned in his chair before crossing his legs comfortably.

*I'm scared.*

Your head that had been dropping down under your despair and confusion suddenly got up, and you snapped it on the right towards the cabinet's door you could spot from your seat. Scared of what?

"I didn't think it was possible, but I'm kind of attracted to this person. And when I'm with her, I forget about my fears" he explained on the paper, his hands trembling as he showed it to the psychiatrist that nodded in encouragement.

You weren't hearing anything anymore, and your frustration made you walk in circles in the small room.

"Well let's say love does a lot of miraculous things, and we never see it coming our way" Woodam chuckled while caressing his chin. "Continue, please."

"My friends are telling me to go for it, to ask her out and to let it be, because they see it has done me good. But I want to know if I might waste everything because of my problem. I'm afraid that it's just an illusion, feeling better."

Mark's hand was writing lines after lines without his brain calculating them, but it felt so natural doing so, his body relaxed and his heart beating slowly, in accordance with his peaceful state of mind. After two years of never opening up to any of his doctors, the boy was finally trying to make an effort and talk about what was on his mind without manipulating his words or lying, all of that thanks to and because of you. He wanted to make this effort you had asked him to, so that he'd get to you without damages.

"Is there anything you're thinking of when you're saying that you might hurt her? Because up till today you've always told me that you were alright and that you didn't need any help. So if you want me to help you now, just tell me truthfully, hm? Having stopped talking can be seen as "problem", but it doesn't impede a relationship in itself. A lot of mutes find love! However, its reason, the guilt that's eating you and your feeling that you need to punished can be a true problem, unless… You get helped, and she likes you back." Woodam detailed while looking right at him, his heart beating expectantly as for the first time he felt that this patient wasn't avoiding the conversation, on the contrary ; he was feeding it.

Mark was nodding with his eyes admiring the emptiness in front of him, his ears getting the message clearly, and he couldn't deny nor dodge it this time. That psychiatrist had most of the time been right, but the blonde had always refused to admit it as he hadn't wanted any counseling back then. And now that he was the one asking for it, Mark felt hurt by the truth he was finally hearing and accepting ; but it was also giving him the determination to replace it with another one, one that could clear everything up.

He turned over the sheet of paper and flatten it on the support Woodam had given him, and the silence encompassing him helped him concentrate on his next answer, so that the man facing him would understand and that he'd step out of the cabinet with a satisfied mind and a ready heart.

"Right before I met her, I felt bad all the time, every single day. I lied to you, I know. Now, I wake up with some memories with her that give me a smile, instead of the ones of the accident that made me sad. I miss her but in a good way, instead of missing my mom. I barely spent time with her, but I want to, instead of staying in my bedroom. Like I said, I can't help but feel happy when she's near. But I'm scared… That it might wake up, anytime."

"I know all of that, I got it, but you still didn't answer my question. What do you think you could do that would hurt this person, Mark?" Woodam got straight to the point, as he was noticing how the young man before him was starting to lose track of his thoughts.

"I don't know exactly. I don't know how depressed I can get, sometimes I don't even know how my thoughts can tumble down to that much darkness" he started to write in a more hesitant pace.

"Don't pressure yourself, and take your time. You're doing well" your godfather encouraged him in a reassuring tone.

"For example, a few months ago, I tried to end it." Mark confessed, his eyes clouding with some regrets and fears as he showed his writing, and Woodam approached his chair closer to the desk.

"End what?" he asked without asking.

Mark sighed before he bit his lip. He had never told this story to anyone, ever – like a lot of things anyway. One night of an umpteenth insomnia, he had been fed up of his dark ideas and his pain conquering his brain as his defense had given up on protecting it a long time ago, the support of his friends and father insufficient to fight the despair that had won over him. He had wanted to shut them up even if it would be for a small nap, but this untold wish had kept him awake, like a vicious circle.

Mark had walked distractedly to the bathroom and had looked for pills to put him to sleep ; however, after one glance at his devastated reflection in the mirror, he had wanted it to disappear, his poor appearance, his weak composure, his tired eyes and that goddamn headache.

So he had kept on adding another pill to the first one in the crook of his hand, the number becoming too much for him to count them, and in a foolish act, he had swallowed the medical candies before gulping down a lot of water. He didn't recall much what happened next, his memories blurred by black outs and made of single images flashing one after the other. Like, his head over the toilets, his stomach suffering from a bad cramp, his stumbling pace back to his room with the environment vibrating, and then his body crashing on his bed before he had fallen into a deep but dreamless sleep – of 17 hours.

His friends had never heard anything nor had they suspected him, only thinking he had been a bit sick as they had come to check on him a few times during the next day. Mark had woken up in a wobbly state, his body aching for days following that, and it had taken him a little time to build back what had happened, how he had gotten here. And up till now, he still couldn't explain what had made him do it.

"My life. One night, at the apartment, while the boys were sleeping. I failed, and I'm glad I did, because I don't even remember how I came to this resolution. That's the problem. I sometimes don't know how far my thoughts can take me. I'm scared as they haven't been around lately, I'm scared it's going to backfire at me, and at this person. I don't want it to happen again, I wasn't myself that night and I don't want to hurt anyone anymore. I'm afraid I might hurt someone. But I don't want to. I don't want to be inactive like I was in my mother's car that night. I need to do something. Please, doctor."

Mark slid the paper full of explanations to the psychiatrist who read it carefully, again and again, his stomach knotting at those heavy declarations, out of pain for Mark's situation but also of excitement as he was finally perceiving a breach to reach him.

"We'll work it out." he then answered confidently.

You hadn't heard the full story and you didn’t save everything, his thoughts sometimes being interrupted by his positive resolutions and wishes, but you had caught enough to understand what had happened to him as Mark had been dictating his answers in his head. And without even trying to duct it, the pain you shared at his confession wet your eyes that soon became fountains of salty tears as you brought your hands to your mouth.

Mark had tried to kill himself, not a long time ago as you had understood, and that killed you. In your eyes, he was so worthy ; you could see a lot of things in him, you always had even before the accident and your eventful night together, still you wouldn't be able to chase his demons any further, now that he had made it clear that nothing would bring the both of you together.

You tried to calm yourself down as you realized he had opened up to your godfather for the first time, and it was a pretty good thing as you trusted Woodam and his talent for diminishing people's suffering. Still, you couldn't help but feeling frustrated by the souvenir of you managing to pull him out of nightmare, or the one of Jinyoung's thankful words, or the absence of his voice in your head but his presence into the cabinet right now that kept on torturing you, as it was somehow showing that you had done him good in the first place.

After hearing another pan of his worries, apparently about the happiness he was feeling again and the guys hadn’t lied to you about, your frustration grew bigger as you had a lot to say and to ask him ; but you here you were, stuck to oblivion.

That drove you nuts

You suddenly heard the door creaking at the end of the corridor and the sound of footsteps walking your way, but you were too busy dotting the ground you were staring at with your tears to acknowledge the comer, your elbows on each of your knees with your fingers grasping the hair at the back of your head.

"Are you okay?" Mark showed on his phone once you had resolved yourself to straighten your back and to turn your face to him, your hands on your skull quickly going down to wipe your hot but fresh tears.

Do I look okay to you? you wanted to retort, angry at him for hiding so well behind his expressionless mask and for having bannished you out of his world.

"And you?" your worried side asked back in a strained voice, your reddened eyes looking at him for a sign that he was indeed doing well.

Mark's heart skipped a beat again as his gaze married your traits, not understanding why you had been crying so much.

*Did I make her cry?*

You sobbed even more at the thought, your head falling down another time and your shoulders shaking under your whimpers. You wanted to embrace him and tell him you were only dying to be there for him, but you couldn't ; he didn't want you to, he didn't need you to, he was too far away.

"I'm fine. See you tonight, then" the speaker resounded into the small room and you slowly braced yourself to look at him with endless questions in your eyes ; however, the boy was already gone like the wind, leaving you appalled at his sudden kindness.

A kindness that matched his last thought behind the door though, or the kisses he had given you, or the information about his state the boys had divulged to you a few days ago… Too many things were pointing at something that kept you right here, hoping, instead of releasing you free from your feelings. Perhaps he regretted, and that was what he wanted to tell you?

♫ Darling you got to let me know

Should I stay or should I go?

If you say that you are mine

I'll be here 'til the end of time

So you got to let me know

Should I stay or should I go? ♫

You angrily turned down the volume button of the radio in your car, interrupting The Clash's singer in his love confession as the lyrics were somehow too on point with your own situation, and it irritated you as well as stressed you out even more.

"Right, should I stay in this car or should I go to this fucking dinner, huh? Still five kilometers to change your mind, Y/N" you sighed as you looked at your reflection in the rearview, before starting the engine again once the light had become green.

Mark's few words had convinced you to go earlier when you had been sticking to your decision of avoiding it at all costs, but your impatient heart was attracted to him like a magnet. So here were you, on the road to the boys' apartment, with your fingers tapping the wheel to the Rock 'n' Roll rhythm despite you, and you bit your lower lip as you glanced at the bag on the passenger's seat containing his folded clothes.

You dreaded what would come out of this evening, and somehow your guts were telling you you wouldn't spend the best night of your life.

The situation between Mark and you was more tensed than an electric line ; the girls were going to observe every single thing you'd do ; and the boys would probably keep up with their teasing, even more if some alcohol would accompany your meal. Still, Mark had implicitly told you to come, whether he had wanted to or not, and if like you had been told he indeed had something to tell you, at least you were going to be done with your uncertainties.

"Let's get it over with" you whispered to yourself as you parked your car then walked straight to the apartment blocks, spotting the cars of your friends having already mingled themselves with others next to the sidewalk.

However, your legs soon began to quiver and it felt like they were about to break at each step you took before you, as your brain suddenly wished you could walk backwards or runaway. Moreover, your heart was now up in your throat, giving you some urge to puke but to scream at the same time.

You had been full of confidence and straightforwardness with Mark up till now, so what was happening? Where did it go?

But it was too late to ask yourself those questions or to turn back, as you arrived in their hallway in no time ; and your knuckles mechanically knocked against the door.

"Y/N! You came in the end!" Jackson exclaimed as he opened the door to the fullest, before welcoming you in a hug.

You entered the flat that looked somehow different from what you remembered with the lights on, and everyone was already sitting on the couches in the huge living room, eating snacks and chatting. Everyone, except for Mark that was missing, and your expectant heart crumpled at the sight.

"Oh? You came? You could have told us, you witch!" Jena still smiled as she feigned to be hurt, and you hurried yourself to sit between her and Joon Hee.

"Surprise…?" you tried in a giggle, and the two slapped your thighs.

"My ass, but we're still happy that you came" Cho A, sitting on the left of Joon Hee, interfered before she put a crisp into her red tinted mouth.

"Got yourself pretty, hm?" you teased her and she coughed, her eyes suddenly flowing to the guys facing you to ensure they hadn't heard you.

"You can talk for yourself, you put your favorite lipstick on, I can recognize it" she retorted in a hushed voice with squinted eyes.

"Yes, but we all know that I have a reason to. But you… Im Jaebum maybe? Because he's got the bad boy vibe and you find it sexy?" you kept on mocking as it relaxed your nerves to have girlies bickering, but mostly to feel surrounded and supported by your best friends.

Cho A frowned and discretely showed you her middle finger before she grabbed a glass and poured you some soju into it, a devilish smile on her lips as she handed it to you.

"You know that one glass won't kill me, right?" you scoffed before sipping a bit from it.

"Don't give me bad intentions before the boys, please…" she said louder as she had spotted Bambam and Yugyeom who were obviously eavesdropping, and the four of you laughed wholeheartedly.

"Yes bro! Where are you? Have you found someone to replace you? …" Jackson suddenly got up from the couch then disappeared in the hallway.

You guessed he was talking to the man you were waiting for, and you quickly busied your hands with some food or else you would eat all your nails because of the stress. Soon enough though, the sound of keys pinging behind the front door gave you the signal that the evening was just starting for you, and you breathed in and out slowly to gain some composure before you'd face Mark again. He indeed entered the room with his stern face, and his six friends acclaimed him before they almost jumped at him.

Jeez she's beautiful, Mark thought as he spied on you between the heads of his roommates that had imprisoned him in the weirdest hug of all times.

After dropping some things into his bedroom, he came back without his denim jacket on, revealing fully the white polo with its red and black details and that suited him perfectly, then he sat on one of the sofas facing the big L couch you were on, never missing to take over all your sight.

This night is gonna be long…

You chit chatted and tried to laugh with the bunch of dorks that were his friends this time, focusing on acting normal as if you weren't a bit affected by his presence, nor by what you had learned earlier, or simply by the three weeks you had spent wondering about everything.

Yet, Mark's intense glare on you was burning every single skin cell of your body, making you feel hot even if you hadn't drank a single drop of alcohol since the poisoned gift of Cho A, nor eaten something that would be too spicy for you to handle.

"I'm going to help Jinyoung and Jackson" you made an excuse you told your friends, your eyes finally meeting Mark's that held the stare until you turned your back on him to reach the open kitchen.

The two brown-haired buddies were busy warming up some meat in a big pan and preparing the rice into small bowls, and you tip toed your way behind them before asking :

"Do you need any helping hands?"

They both jumped in surprise at your voice and you chuckled at their taken aback expressions, your fingers reaching for the island behind you against which you leaned.

"Hey, guys, I can't believe it's one of our guests that's coming to help! You really have no shame!" Jinyoung half scolded half joked, and he ushered you towards some plates you were told to organize some side dishes on.

"Mark, come and help too as you didn't prepare anything with us earlier" Jackson called out without acknowledging him, too focused on mastering his wrist's move to the marry the meat and the sauce flawlessly.

The blonde rolled his eyes as he knew too damn well what his best friend was up to, but he still got up and rejoined the three of you, getting closer than what you had expected so when you turned around to tell Jinyoung you were done, you took a small step back as your eyes met Mark's left profile right next to you. His perfume captivated your smell, and his unspoiled face proportions made you swallow your saliva forcefully.

*Don't even think of bringing those to the table. I saw how clumsy you can get* you heard him think authoritatively like he had for the bracelet back at the party, but surprisingly, he also showcased it with sign languages, and your tongue had been about to curse at him.

"He just said that you are clumsy-" Jinyoung tried to explain with an amused smile on his mouth.

"I know" you hissed through gritted teeth as you handed the full plate to Mark in a curt move, and you saw his pupils brighten in amusement while he obviously pressed his lips together so that he wouldn't smile.

"Y-You understand sign languages?" Jinyoung stuttered, his eyes open wide in shock.

"I learned a bit, yeah" you lied as your gaze was still defying Mark's, then he finally rotated on his heels to go straight to the big table the guys had dressed neatly before your arrival.

So easy to bother, he smiled to himself.

What had just happened? Had the both of you been teasing each other right now? What had happened to the distance he had dug between the both of you?

You were still looking at him, your brows furrowing but some excited smirk gaining your lips, then Jackson called out everyone and invited you to gather at the table. You enjoyed the dinner, feeling at ease in spite of what you had feared, as the boys were truly funny and sympathetic, and contrary to your expectations, they didn't even attack you or Mark with sarcastic remarks, their target rather being the fresh and lovely couple Jena and Jinyoung formed.

The blonde had chosen a seat in the row you were facing – in your left diagonal precisely –, and your eyes kept on meeting then escaping each other, making your legs tremble under the table. You also felt thrilled at the sight of him smiling and laughing out loud at the poor jokes his friends made, his relaxed behavior making you wish you could steal him away, as he felt closer.

When you weren't looking, Mark couldn't help but fall in love with your lips once again, and his pulse was accelerating as each time his brain didn't miss to remind him how it had felt to lock his with them. However, he was feeling impatient as he was waiting for the moment he could have some privacy with you, but the more the clock was ticking, the less he was finding the right words to say.

Would you have waited like you had said? Would you still understand and accept him like you had up till now?

At one point, all of the group sprawled back on the couches to chill and digest, and while you were chatting with the girls, the guys started shoving Mark, encouraging him to talk privately to you.

"You have something to tell her, don't you?" Jackson whispered before hitting his arm.

"Leave me alone, it's not urgent, and it doesn't look like she's willing to talk to me tonight" Mark answered quickly with his hands, and his friends all grunted while rolling their eyes.

You weren't paying attention to him anymore, and you hadn't addressed him a single word during all the dinner, so the fake-mute was starting to doubt the merits of their "plan" that could turn into a huge fail.

"You don't get it, do you? But you've dated before… She's doing it on purpose man, maybe a little bit because you hurt her feelings, but now it's time to fix it! So c'mon, go ahead!" Jinyoung cheered for him while Mark's eyes were glued to you.

You finally turned your head towards their small gathering, your pupils questioning their far from discreet exchanges as they apparently were plotting something about you. Mark suddenly got up and signaled you to follow him to his bedroom with a move of his head, and you felt your heart explode under your ribcage that began to tickle, while your legs turned to jelly. Yet, you still managed to stand too and you went to pick up your bag with his things.

"Where are you going?" Joon Hee asked inoffensively as your group hadn’t spotted your silent agreement, and you only smiled knowingly at her before you rushed to the corridor, ignoring the few whispers circulating behind you that sounded like quiet cicadas in your ears, a background sound that could never beat the loud thump of your heart.

When you walked in the bedroom, all the souvenirs of that night spread into your mind, and you suddenly felt intimidated at the sight of Mark's back, his body turned to the window facing the door you closed carefully behind you. All your confidence was drowning away, so you leaned your back against the wall between the panel and the bed, your fingers playing nervously with each other.

"I brought your clothes, I'm putting them on your bed…" you spoke up first in a low tone, your eyes dragged to his silhouette detoured by the moonlight seeping through the glasses as well as the bedside lamp he had turned on this time too.

Mark slowly turned around, and he seemed to be as nervous as you, his traits somehow softened but his eyes elusive, sometimes crossing yours, sometimes looking around him as if he would find the words to say written on the walls.

"So hum… The guys told me that you had something to say to me, what is it?" you added before cutting your respiration for a short while, as his stare was compressing your lungs.

He didn't know where to start, nor what to tell you exactly. Some sweat was pearling on his forehead and in the crook of his hands he quickly dried by wiping them on his thighs, and a pant faintly escaped his lips. Woodam had given him a few tools about how he should approach the subject of his fears with you, but he had forgotten every single one of them the second you had closed the door.

"C'mon, what did you want, Tuan?" you ended up asking again, the stress he was putting you through turning into an unbearable sensation numbing your whole body.

He suddenly walked closer to you while typing something on his smartphone, and you put your right hand on your chest, hoping it would calm down the crazy hammer beating up insanely the left side.

"I want to take you out on a date" he showed on his smartphone's screen, a gentle smile pulling at the corner of his pink lips, and you scoffed.

You couldn't believe it even if you were rereading it with your own two eyes. That guy surely didn't want to be understood by anyone – did he even understand himself and his changes of mind?

"Excuse me? I thought you didn't want to see me ever again?" you pointed out, your incredulity making your eyes almost go out of their holes and your jawline drop to the ground.

*That's a dumb person who wanted that, not me…* you heard Mark grumble, and you were totally lost, for words and in another endless mess of questions knocking against the walls of your head.

"Well I changed my mind, can't I?" he typed rapidly, defying you with his intense stare that pierced holes through your skull which was about to implode.

"Not after three weeks of playing dead, no, I'm sorry, you need to explain" you protected yourself as your brows knotted, your confusion making you suddenly wish you could flee the scene, as your feelings for him were going to make you fall into his arms too easily, and pretty soon.

You weren't easy. You shouldn't be easy. You shouldn't allow that guy to play you around as he wished, coming in and out of your life without caring about your feelings. Unexpectedly, you saw him striving on his screen to write the fastest he could, but you had no intentions to believe in his comeback that blindly, his words similar to a bad joke in your eyes.

"You said that you were going to wait" he quickly revealed the text in your face, and this answer was accompanied by a shrug.

And you had been waiting, all this time. You undeniably had wished for this moment he would regret, but right now, you wanted to remain on your guards, at least until he had apologized for his lack of guts that had distressed your heart for a while.

"You heard that…?" your voice merely came out as your cheeks burned, but you regained your determination in no time as him being so laid-back with his "change of mind" was somehow getting on your nerves. "Well, what if I changed my mind too, hm?" you provoked him while crossing your arms firmly.

"You didn't, or else you wouldn't have come tonight" the blonde retorted.

"I came for my friends, and to bring you back your clothes. And you're not even thinking of, I don't know, apologizing first? Just saying" you chuckled in disbelief, his straightforwardness mostly appearing as a total disregard towards your feelings, and you wouldn't accept that.

You turned away from him and grabbed the door knob to make him react differently, and the blonde seemed to be as determined as you to win this game, as his hand took over yours and dragged you right back against the wall.

You rolled your eyes but your heart was telling you how expectant you were for his next answer, while Mark was busy typing with one hand, the other one still grasping yours firmly to make sure you wouldn't go away.

"I'm not reading it unless you're apologizing to me" you said while turning your head on the left and closing your eyes.

"I wasn't asking for your permission anyway" the robotic voice you hadn't missed spoke up in his place, and when you opened your eyelids to kill him for his perspicacity, you saw that Mark was smiling proudly to himself.

He was the worst at expressing his feelings, he knew it, but he couldn't help being straightforward as he failed to feel confident otherwise. He saw your traits getting masked by surprise, but a good one as you didn't reiterate your attempt to escape, so he dangerously draw himself to you, his hands reaching up and landing at the base of your neck.

His eyes were clouding with desire, the one to kiss you right here right now in hopes you would get his sincerity just like you had that night, because he wasn't able to word it ; every time, you captivated all of his brain cells. You felt his stare on your tinted and plump lips that you licked in anticipation, and his breath became the oxygen you were inhaling, while his touch became the only sensation you were feeling.

*I know I did you wrong… I know.*

But that was before I realized… How nice it is to like someone, and to be liked by someone.

You closed your eyes as you heard his thought, and it helped you get your tough side back, that wished you could get at least one reason to let him in once again.

"How can I trust you now?" you whined despite your drying mouth, your eyes searching his as you were ready to accept him, only if he'd uncover the explanations your heart had longed for. "Tell me why should I trust you, please"

*I'm sorry Y/N. I'm sorry.* his pupils were telling you as well as his voice, but Mark was succumbing to his inner desires and needs without finding the willpower to retreat and type the freeing text you were asking for.

"Tell me why you're doing this, why you're coming back, hm?" you were begging, your breath becoming shaky as you let him get even nearer, but you were still holding onto the few willpower you had left to prove yourself you could be stronger than your crush on him.

I like you. I'll tell you everything later, I promise. *Don't push me away, please…*

You were panicking as his mouth was growing closer and closer to yours, your lips advancing on their own as you were dying to kiss him too, but the painful knots in your stomach and your brain helped you to stop him as your hands crawled up to his face you ceased.

You wanted to trust him, but you couldn't repeat the same error and accept his kisses and begs as a sufficient proof. You couldn't lose to him again, you had to seek for a clarification that was well deserved, at least for your long wait.

His eyes were looking down at you and you caught the impatient glare that crossed his pupils, so you quickly let it all out so that you both would be over with it.

"You hurt my feelings, Mark, you know that? Just tell me… Why would you say you don't want anything to do with me if we're back at doing this? You know the guys told me at the uni that you've been doing great and they said it's thanks to me, but I myself am not sure how I was helpful to you! Did I really make you happy? Didn't you regret that night like you had told me? Did you miss me?"

Mark sighed and he unexpectedly apposed a short kiss on your forehead before looking back at you, his shining eyes begging you to stop. But your overthinking mind couldn't.

"How do you expect me to trust you and believe that you're indeed ready to accept me when I don't know how is it up there? Your friends who told me I've done you good don't know about you putting me at the door, about your nightmares, about the fact that you tried to leave this world-"

Suddenly, a wave of cold hit your fiery skin as Mark's hands left their spot and he stumbled back, his eyes looking at you with horror. Your panic state had made you pour your feelings and worries out without asking your brain for a checkup beforehand, and you merely realized that you had told what had been supposed to be untold.

*Wait… The suicide. I never talked to you about it.*

"How do you know about that" he typed carefully, his hand shaking as he showed the device to you, and you felt your heart stricken, while your body got covered with chills and your head burned.

His loud breathing was suddenly back again, sign that he was containing a lot of emotions just like he had back on the balcony, and it made you panic even more. His eyes had darkened in no time and they were now staring at you with a mix of fear and incomprehension, and some tears immediately lodged themselves at the crease of your eyelids. What had you done?

"Did Dr. Hwang tell you" he revealed again as he got closer to you, and his hand slammed against the wall right next to your head pretty brutally, making you close your eyes instinctively.

"N-No, I swear he didn't tell me, he wouldn't" you ensured him while shaking your head that had dropped down.

"Then how the fuck do you know about that" Mark asked one last time, his body being so close to yours that it felt suffocating, so were the sobs you were barely fighting back as you were terrified of what was going to happen next.

What were you supposed to do? Were you really going to blow out all the hard work your godfather and your parents had done to help you protect your secret? You were running out of excuses, your mind emptying itself as you finally felt sorry for what you had done to him up till now. The familiar guilt you had stopped feeling was coming back at you and took its proper revenge by exposing your intrusive side to the man you liked.

"I-I know it's unbelievable but…" you muttered as you had finally broke out into tears, and you couldn't stop your heart from speaking for you. "B-But I can h-hear… I can hear thoughts"

After a life of keeping it safe, you had bluntly blew up your cover, just like that. Mark walked backwards a second time, his head shaking from the left to the right, and he now looked at you with a hint of betrayal, his furrowed brows deepening his stare that was killing you even more than your shame.

*What the fuck are you saying…*

"I-I can hear thoughts, I'm not lying… Not everything, only… The bad ones... And with you I can't help but hear it. I tried to stop it, I really tried Mark, but I couldn't you-"

*Stop it, stop lying, stop it* you heard his faint voice infiltrating your head and cutting you in your messy speech, and it spilled some more tears on your cheeks.

His tone was clearly inducing how hurt he was feeling right now, and out of despair, your feet took you closer to him, but Mark kept on going backwards, his hand putting itself before him in defense.

So that was it? That was why he had felt so in tune with you? So that was why he had felt understood? So that was why you had been an answer and a solution to all of his problems?

His already broken heart was turning to ashes consuming themselves into his steaming body, steaming with anger, with sadness, with disgust ; a mixture that would have been enough to kill him, if he wasn't already feeling dead on the inside.

You, who had been the one to give him the pleasure to live again, had just taken this gift right back from him, and Mark was now facing the sad truth according which you really had been the only thing that had made him want to do something with his life lately, because your deceiving revelation hurt him as much as when he lost his mother.

"Since when do you hear things?" he unexpectedly played on his phone as your pupils were fixing the ground in order to avoid his look that defended you to lie to him.

"Since I was born." you confessed in a merely audible voice.

Mark inhaled a deep breath of air before combing his hair, his eyes shortly closing as he tried to put up with your sayings.

"What did you hear with me?" he then asked again, and he eventually came to you to grab your shoulder so that you'd read his question yourself, his grasp becoming painful the more the seconds passed, but you knew you deserved it.

He shook you a few times as you were taking your time to answer, his breath coming loudly from his nose as breathing was his only way to keep his cool so that he wouldn't smash every single thing around him in this room.

"Everything that's not good, for you, and that's why I can't help but hear them, you've… You've got so many of them. I'm so sorry…" you apologized in vain, your eyes still not courageous enough to look him in his own, as you knew the pain you'd read there wouldn't be bearable.

All the pieces of the puzzle were starting to gather, and Mark could now see the big picture, his brain slowly starting to remember every single time he had been blown away by your accurate answers, and even your silent conversation you had had when he had pleaded you to stay. He wished he had recalled it sooner, because this souvenir of you getting his silent needs and sharing something he would have thought as beautiful hadn't it been tainted by your acting, was the most painful out of every others.

Mark let go of you and he started to chuckle, a sound that should be joyful but that sounded so sad right now. He lolled his head in the back to repel his tears of anger, and when it fell back down to stare at you, he lost it as his heart somehow ached to see you cry.

*Stop crying, you have no right to do this. And YOU were asking ME for apologies and explanations? But don't you know everything already?*

You remained quiet as you were totally distraught by this awful situation. Truthfully, you wished he could put you on some pyre and ignite it with all the despise he was containing right now, as you felt like the devil itself, so all you deserved was to burn in hell.

*And here I thought I just found someone who could match with me and love me as I am, but all this time you were cheating. You were a fucking imposter. I can't believe it you're-*

"No Mark listen to me, I wasn't faking what I said I meant every single word, every time" you directly responded, not caring about being cautious of your sentences now that he knew.

The boy's eyes opened wide in infuriation, his glare frightening you to the fullest, and when your hands reached out to try and get a hold of his arms so that he'd listen to you, Mark violently pushed them away. You spotted the water that was sparkling under his pupils, and you gulped down your need to whimper out loud, your body suddenly aching down to each ends.

*So that's how you're going to do your job huh? You're going to be a fucking con artist? You must have had fun playing with me. Of course there was a lot to entertain yourself because I'm a fucking mess full of "bad thoughts"*

"No that's not like that at all, it's just with you because-"

*GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD! YOU HEAR ME? GET OUT!* he burst out as he realized you kept on hearing his hatred thoughts about you.

"Mark please…" you kept on begging, your vision blurred by your waterworks and your head falling back down in defeat and shame.

*I SAID GET OUT OF MY HEAD!* he kept on screaming internally as he grasped his hair, a painful expression drowning on his face.

"I'm so sorry I can't control it, but I never meant to hurt you you need to believe me…"

*I must be crazy, aren't I? I'm crazy? I'm crazy!* Mark was losing it right in front of your two eyes and you were running out of words, and out of breath. *Can you still hear what I'm thinking right now? It's pretty bad so yeah the witch you are should*

You nodded silently and Mark chuckled sarcastically again, before his hands brushed his face which traits were now depicting the look of someone possessed. You were powerless, this moment being the one you had feared all your life, this moment making you hate yourself and your special ability as they called it when you had always thought it was a curse, even when you had helped with it, even when your godfather had tried to make you confident about it, because in the end, you should be resumed to how Mark's terrified eyes were picturing you right now. A cheating monster, intruding people's secret garden.

His own tears were more than threatening as he kept looking at you who were crying before him. He had been about to open up to someone, he had been about to trust someone again, he had been about to try and live a better life with your hand in his ; but this person he had magnified, this person he had allowed himself to have feelings for by breaking his cage keeping himself apart from anyone since two years, this person he had thought would complete his broken self when in fact she had faked to be understanding him with her heart as it had been thanks to her calculative mind, had just stabbed him with the most cutting knife she had found.

*Yeah you do? Then hear this out : SCREW YOU*

And with that being said, Mark exited his own bedroom, storming past you like a tornado ravaging everything around it as you felt like you were breaking down the second he disappeared, your knees feeling weak and making you land pitifully on the mattress next to you.

You perceived your friends' shocked reactions at Mark's appearance in the living room, before the place got quiet as he smashed the front door. The only sound cutting through the thick silence but maintaining the breathtaking tension were your sobs you completely let out, without preventing your whimpers to escape your torn body.

Well, not exactly the only sound. Not for you, at least.

*I hate her. I hate her. I hate her…*

To be continued...

A/N : I’m having exams at the end of the month so I might pause the writing for Part 4, but I already started it! Thanks for waiting and sorry in advance...

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