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specialagentsergio · 3 years

Text

wish i were

summary: Emily’s back where she belongs, but she’s learning that you can’t come back from the dead the same as you were before. Spencer’s reeling from betrayal and broken trust. Then there’s you—their safe port in the storm. But you’re not okay either, and you have a choice to make.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader (unrequited), emily prentiss x f!reader

category: angst

content warnings: lots of swearing, mentions of/implied sex, mentions of vomiting (nothing descriptive), fighting, negative feelings towards other team members, bittersweet ending

a/n: it’s finally here. thank you all for your patience. i wasn’t planning on posting angst and unrequited love on valentine’s day, but i don’t want to wait another day to post this; i’m kinda sick of looking at it tbh. anyways, i hope you enjoy it and it lives up to your expectations. sorry it’s so long. apparently i have a lot to say.

word count: 8.7k

series masterlist || masterlist

Ten weeks ago.

“Absolutely not,” Emily croaks out. Her voice is rough and broken from the breathing tube, and it hurts her throat to speak, but she ignores it. “No. I won’t do it.”

She can hardly believe what she’s hearing. She’s only been awake for a few hours and she’s already fed up with the bullshit the world is throwing at her. Right now, it’s in the form of her boss asking her to fake her own death. “You can’t seriously think this is an acceptable solution.”

Hotch is unreadable, his unit chief face firmly in place. “It’s for your own safety.”

Emily scoffs, then immediately winces at the pain that shoots through her midsection. But she continues. “So put me in a safe house or something. I’m not making my friends bury me.”

“It’s for their safety as well,” he replies. “Doyle’s still out there. He’s targeted them before. You know he’ll do it again to get to you if he finds out you’re alive.”

“Then let them in on this,” she argues. “They can keep a secret.”

His expression slips—just a little bit, but she sees it. It’s hesitance.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” she asks, a feeling of dread settling over her. “I want to see her. I’m not making a decision like this without her.”

Hotch folds his arms over his chest. “It’s not your decision to make, Emily,” he says quietly. “It’s already done.”

Her breath catches in her throat. She looks him up and down, searching desperately for any sign that he’s lying, that this is all just some cruel joke, that any second now you’ll be walking through the door, a smile on your face—

There are none.

Her lungs burn and she’s forced to take in a breath. “You son of a bitch,” she whispers. “You... son of a bitch. How dare you? How dare you.”

He doesn’t so much as flinch as her voice increases in volume, which only serves to make her angrier.

“How fucking dare you! You let me see (Y/N) right now, you bastard!”

The door opens—her heart leaps—

It’s JJ, who, if Hotch is to be believed, is the only other one to know about this. JJ hurries to her side and reaches out, but Emily yanks her arm away.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she snarls. “You—” Her eyes land on the water pitcher on the table in front of her and she lunges forward, the searing pain it causes barely registering. She seizes it and throws it with all the force she can muster.

Hotch doesn’t move out of the way, letting it hit his chest and soak the front of his clothing. Its accompanying cup follows, then the TV remote. It’s not until she grabs the vase of flowers that he ducks out of the way. The glass shatters on the floor. All the while, she’s screaming obscenities at him.

JJ tries in vain to calm her down, holding up her hands placatingly. “Emily, please—”

“Don’t talk to me!” she yells. “You have the audacity to come in here and speak to me when you know I’m alive and my girlfriend doesn’t!”

“Emily!” Her voice is stern. “I understand you’re upset—”

“Don’t use your fucking mom voice on me, Jennifer, I’m not a fucking child—”

“What’s going on in here?” A pair of nurses enter the room, no doubt drawn by the commotion.

“She’s bleeding,” JJ answers immediately. “I think she might have aggravated something when she sat up.”

“She’s not supposed to be sitting up at all. What did you two do?” one of the nurses scolds.

“She just got some bad news—”

“Well, isn’t that a nice way to put it!” The nurses are trying to coax her into laying back down, but Emily resists it. “A really great way to describe the two of you trying to force me into letting my family and girlfriend think I’m dead!”

“I think some of the stitches tore,” the second nurse says.

“Go get the doctor,” the first one instructs an orderly standing in the doorway.

Movement catches Emily’s eye and she looks towards it to see Hotch taking a step backwards.

“Don’t you dare leave!” she screams. “I’m not done with you, you motherf—”

“Agent, please, you need to lie back.”

“And you two need to leave,” the older of the nurses says.

Then there’s a third person at her side. Judging by the white coat, it’s the doctor. “What’s the problem?” he asks them.

“She’s agitated and we think some stitches might have burst.”

“Damn right I’m agitated!” Emily cries. “They’re trying to—I—” She looks past the doctor to find that JJ and Hotch are gone.

“Emily, we’re going to give you something to help you relax,” he tells her.

Her vision goes blurry and she can’t figure out why until she feels the tears sliding down her cheeks. She lets the nurses push her back now and her head thumps against the pillow. “Please—” she chokes on a sob. “Please, I want to see my girlfriend.”

“What’s her name?” the doctor asks kindly.

“(Y/N). We’ve been together for almost a year. I need…” Her limbs are starting to feel heavy. “I need to call her, or—or something. She thinks… she thinks….”

“Shh, you’re okay,” one of the nurses soothes. “You’re going to be okay.”

Emily blinks slowly and shakes her head. “But she won’t be. She…”

The world fades to black.

---

There are tear stains on your pillowcase.

That’s the first thing Emily notices when she walks into your bedroom. She recognizes them so quickly because similar ones were on her pillows in Paris.

“Sorry, I’ve been meaning to run the sheets through the wash,” you say when you notice her looking.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” She sets her bag on the bedside table, careful to jostle Sergio as little as possible. He’s in her arms, pressed against her chest and purring loudly. He definitely remembers her—she’d been a little worried that he wouldn’t.

Emily is absolutely exhausted. It has been a very long day. Doyle is dead, Declan is safe, and now all she wants to do is take a nice, hot shower and curl up in bed with you. But you haven’t been able to keep eye contact with her for more than a few moments at a time.

She expected something like this to happen. She knew once the relief of seeing her alive wore off, there was going to be a heap of more, uglier emotions surfacing.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

You glance up at her just briefly, busying yourself with stripping off the pillowcases and replacing them with a clean set. “I don’t know what to say, Emily,” you sigh. “I just… I don’t.”

She strokes Sergio’s back a couple of times to calm herself before replying. “You can say anything. You’ve been through so much, and I… I’m not going to hold what you’re feeling against you.”

You shake your head. “I don’t want to say something I’ll regret.”

It confirms her suspicions. “(Y/N), you’re allowed to be mad at me,” she says. “Hell, you could even yell at me if you wanted to and I’d be okay with it.”

You snort. “I don’t want to yell at you. But, um, could I ask you a question?”

“Anything.”

“Okay. Well…” You shuffle from one foot to the other. “I’m… not really sure how to ask this, but, how… how did this happen?”

Your voice is hesitant. You’re holding back, but Emily can read between the lines. “You mean, how could I let you think I was dead?” she corrects softly.

You breathe in sharply and wrap your arms around yourself. Your eyes are wet when you look up at her and nod.

Emily tries not to let her next words come out too fast, lest it seem like she’s dismissing your feelings or making excuses. “I didn’t get a choice.” Her voice cracks and she clears her throat. “When I came to after surgery, the funeral had already been held.”

Your mouth drops open. You stare at her for a few seconds, then blink several times. Your eyes move around, focused on nothing in particular as you try to process what she’s just told you. Eventually, they settle on the bedroom door behind her. “I’m gonna punch his face,” you whisper.

Emily can’t stop the genuine laugh that bubbles out of her. “Yeah, Hotch heard similar things from me.”

“Oh my god, Em,” you breathe out, and her heart skips a beat at the nickname. “That must have been awful.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t fun,” she admits. “But at least I knew you were alive and that I’d see you again someday. It can’t come close to what you went through.”

You shake your head. “This isn’t the suffering Olympics. It was harder for you in some ways than it was for me, I’m sure. Like, if I was waking up after being stabbed, I’d want my girlfriend there holding my hand.”

Emily’s eyes prick with tears as she listens to you, remembering how it felt to be at the hospital without you there to hold her hand through all the scary bits. But you? You had buried her, and now you’re here considering how Emily had felt throughout all this. She’s not sure if you’re actively trying to make her fall even more in love with you, but if you are, you’re succeeding.

“I can’t promise to never be mad at you about this,” you continue, “but I’ll take being mad at you for actually being alive rather than being mad at you for dying.”

“That’s… really mature of you,” she observes.

“I started seeing a therapist a few days after the funeral,” you say with a shrug. “Can you put Sergio down and help me change the bed sheets?”

She nods and places him gently on the floor. She’s about to ask why you’re wanting to change them right now, when you’re clearly just as exhausted as she is, when she finds a tie wedged between the top and fitted sheets at the foot of the bed. She frowns as she lifts it up—it’s not one she recognizes as yours or hers, but she does think she’s seen it before.

“Oh, so that’s where that went,” you say.

“I don’t remember you having a tie like this. Is it new?”

“It’s Spencer’s,” you clarify.

“Oh. What… what’s it doing in your bed?” she asks hesitantly.

“He would stay over sometimes when I couldn’t sleep and he’s too long—“ you spread your hands apart “—for either of the couches.”

“I see.” Emily smooths out the wrinkles in the fabric and crosses the room to put it on top of the dresser, trying to tamp down the sting of jealousy. The other side of your bed is supposed to be hers.

“Nothing happened,” you say and she realizes she’s frowning.

“I know,” she replies, and she does—she just wishes it had been her in the bed with you. But you’ve at least given her a good lead-in for her surprise. “Anyways, you wouldn’t have even had the time with the amount of online Scrabble you were playing.”

Now it’s your turn to frown. “How do you know about that?”

The corner of her mouth turns up. “I was there for every game, sergio2010.”

It takes you a moment to put it together. “You’re cheetobreath?” you ask. “I thought that was JJ.”

“It was her idea,” Emily says. “And that’s what you were supposed to think.”

Your reaction delights her—you start laughing. “That’s ridiculous!”

“I had to stick it to Hotch somehow,” she defends, barely holding back her own laughter.

You shake your head fondly as you finish tucking in the fresh sheets. Emily helps you spread the comforter back over the bed and return the pillows to their spots. She isn’t sure what to do after that, though, and nervously clasps her hands in front of her. You’re silent for a few seconds, watching her from across the bed.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” you say eventually.

“Um, okay,” she replies. “But you know, I could go stay at a hotel instead if you’d prefer.”

You shake your head. “You’re gonna join me.”

“Ah.” Emily swallows, part nervous, part thrilled. “That’s… I mean, yeah. Okay.”

You hold out your hand in invitation; she circles the bed and takes it.

After, when you’re both clean and settled into bed, she pulls you as close to her as she can. “This is so nice,” you sigh into her skin. “You’re so soft, Em.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Um, thank you?”

“Spencer’s bony,” you explain.

Emily snorts. “Yeah, I know. I fell asleep on his shoulder on the jet a few years ago and it was painful.”

You giggle. “Did you know he talks in his sleep?”

“Morgan’s mentioned it. You learn anything else when you were snuggled up with him?” she teases, running her fingers through your damp hair.

“It wasn’t like that,” you protest. “We didn’t snuggle. I’d just kind of… press my forehead on his arm and one leg against his.” Your voice lowers as you continue, “I just really missed being close to someone.”

“I did, too,” she whispers back. “I wish it had been me, but I’m glad you had him.”

You nod against her in agreement. “I love you, Emily,” you say, briefly tightening your grip on her.

“I love you, too,” she replies, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “So much.”

You drift off to sleep quickly, and she’s not far behind.

It’s the best sleep she’s had in months.

---

Spencer’s barely heard from you since the hearing last week.

He’d gotten plenty of texts from Jennifer (all of which he ignored), but only a few from you. That’s probably normal for most adult friends, but not for you two, especially so when the fact that you were the only two people not to apply for reinstatement to the BAU is taken into consideration. He thought that he’d be able to seriously talk about it with you, to share his feelings and maybe work it out together. But all he had gotten was a brief message:

Emily was reinstated, so I’m going back, too.

It left him frustrated, but when it came down to it, he understood—he was the same. Since you were going back, so was he.

On Monday morning, everyone’s first day back together, he gets off the elevator and is immediately confronted with the last person he wants to see.

“Hey, where have you been? I wanted to do brunch this weekend,” Jennifer says.

Spencer barely resists rolling his eyes, instead keeping them fixed on the file he’s holding. “I had to deal with some stuff with my mom.” It’s not a lie—he did have to check in with his mom. It just didn’t take as long as he’s implying. “Have you seen Garcia?”

“Uh, she’s with Rossi,” Jennifer answers, and she sounds startled by his behavior, but he doesn’t care. You’re at your desk, and as he passes by, he takes your arm.

“Wha—Spencer?” You’re taken aback, but you let him pull you along and into a file room.

“What?” you repeat when he turns to you after closing the door.

He tucks the file into his bag, the folds his arms over his chest. “I barely heard from you last week.”

Your eyebrows scrunch together. “Well, yeah, I’ve been busy,” you say. “Emily’s moving in with me so we’ve been taking her things out of storage and to my apartment to unpack.”

Spencer glances away, trying to ignore the stab of jealousy in his chest. Just two weeks ago, he was in your bed and he’s quickly been replaced. And sure, he knows you don’t feel that way about him, but it was easy to pretend you did when you were asleep right next to him. “Not busy enough to make a decision about work,” he points out.

“So?”

“You’re the only other one who didn’t apply for reinstatement to the unit,” he replies. “You’d think that would be something for us to talk about.”

“You never said you wanted to,” you say, giving him a little shrug.

He doesn’t resist the eye roll this time. Does Spencer know he’s being a bit unfair? Yes. Does he care? Not particularly. No one bothered to seriously check in with him last week. He wasn’t expecting everyone to, but he was expecting it from you. He’s only been at work for five minutes, but his emotions are already running high, and he doesn’t care to reign them in. “I didn’t think I’d have to.”

“You should’ve. I can’t read your mind.” Now you’re getting defensive. “And what does it matter, anyways? You’re not my boyfriend; I don’t have to run my decisions past you.”

“I know that,” he snaps. He really could have done without hearing you say that. “I’m just there to warm up your bed when you’re lonely is all, huh?”

You’re shocked for only a moment before pivoting to anger. “I didn’t make you do anything. You could’ve said no. And I certainly don’t owe you anything from it.”

“Clearly,” he mutters.

You heave an angry sigh. “Look, I know you’re mad about the whole thing, but don’t take it out on me. I don’t know why you’re so surprised that I wanted to spend the past week catching up with my girlfriend after thinking she was dead for ten weeks. If you wanted to talk, you should’ve said so. Stop being such an ass.”

Spencer doesn’t answer. You’re right, and he knows it, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to admit it. He just looks down at the floor, avoiding your glare.

When it becomes clear to you that he has no intention of responding, you mutter, “whatever” under your breath and duck behind him, walking out of the door and leaving him alone again.

---

The case has been miserable.

In rural Oklahoma, their unsub is burning his victims with acid. Not the worst they’ve seen, but not pleasant, either—this job never is.

You’re still mad at him, which is bad enough, but he’s also had to watch you be far more… touchy with Emily than you ever were before. It’s not super apparent—you still keep it professional at the local P.D. and when you’re out on work assignments, but you’re going out of your way to find any excuse to touch her that you can outside of that.

Then there’s the motel they’re staying at and its thin walls. He heard a few things last night from your room next door. It was quickly followed by shushes, but he heard enough to infer what was going on. So he’d dug his noise-canceling headphones out of his bag. It had been a good solution at the time, but then he’d fallen asleep with them on. As a result, he’d slept with his neck at an odd angle. It’s midday now and it’s still aching.

To top it all off, there’s Jennifer. He’s been trying to keep his distance from her, and had thought the snide remarks he hadn’t been able to hold back might encourage her to stay away. But she keeps pressing the issue, and when she tells him she thinks he’s mad about micro-expressions, he can’t hold it back anymore.

“You think it’s about my profiling skills? Jennifer, listen, the only reason you were able to manage my perceptions is because I trusted you. I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

She protests, so he brings up Dilaudid. He knows it’s a low blow, and that she still feels guilty about them splitting up all those years ago, leading to his abduction and subsequent problem, but he doesn’t care. He just wants her to hurt like he is.

The team is staring and Emily says his name, but he just tells Jennifer that it’s too late to be sorry and leaves without another word.

Outside, he sits on the curb in front of one of the SUVs and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to calm himself down. He’s not alone for long, though. Just a few minutes later, he hears footsteps coming from behind him. The sound that involuntarily comes out of his throat can only be described as a growl.

“God, Jennifer, what do I have to do to get you to understand that I want you to leave me the fuck alone!” he nearly yells.

But it’s not Jennifer that answers. “It’s me,” you say softly.

Spencer sighs. He drops his hands from his face but doesn’t open his eyes. “What?”

“Can I sit?”

He’s not sure he wants to be around anyone, but it’s hard for him to say no to you. “Sure,” he says dully.

You join him on the curb, but keep a few feet of space between you. You don’t say anything, though, just sit quietly, letting him make the first move.

“How are you okay?” he asks eventually.

“What?” You sound incredulous. “I’m not sure where you got that idea. I’m so mad at Hotch that I can barely breathe when I’m in the same room as him.”

Spencer considers this for a moment, recalling when everyone’s been in the same room during this case. He realizes that since he’s been preoccupied with you touching Emily and trying to avoid Jennifer, he’s missed how you tense up whenever you see Hotch, and that you keep him out of your eyesight whenever possible.

“But you’re fine with Emily,” he observes. That does honestly confuse him, because he’s mad at Emily as well. And if it had been you in her place? He’s not sure he’d ever be able to forgive you, even without you knowing the way he feels about you.

“For the most part,” you say. “I still feel a little mad at her sometimes, but it helps me to remember that it wasn’t her fault.”

He finally looks at you, raising an eyebrow. “Being alive in Paris and not telling you isn’t her fault?”

“She didn’t really get a choice. When she woke up after surgery, the funeral had already happened,” you explain. “Hotch made the decision without her.”

“Hmm.” He files that information away to think over later. “And Jennifer?”

You shrug. “I can’t be too mad at her, since she did so much for me during those weeks.”

He snorts. “Yeah, out of guilt.”

“Probably, yes,” you concede. “But not having to pack up Emily’s things and take them to storage myself, feeding Sergio and bringing him to stay with me, bringing me hot meals when I was surviving off of cereal alone because I could barely get out of bed, let alone cook for myself… it went a long way.”

On the one hand, it’s a bit comforting for him to hear how Jennifer helped the woman he loves. On the other, she could have ended your pain with three words—Emily is alive—but she didn’t. She let the woman he loves suffer the pain of the loss of a partner.

And she sure didn’t bring him hot meals.

This shouldn’t surprise you, Spencer. You’ve always been the afterthought. The burden. You should be used to this by now.

He clenches the fabric of his pants in his hands. “That doesn’t make me any less angry,” he mutters.

“That’s fine.”

“You can’t expect me to just—wait, what?”

“That’s fine,” you repeat. “I’m not trying to tell you to just get over it or whatever because she was nice to me. Like Em told me, you’re allowed to be mad.”

Spencer bites his lip, resisting the urge to ask you to stop calling her Em. You’re the only one that calls her that—or rather, is allowed to call her that, and it’s obvious why. It’s also similar enough to you calling him Spence that he’ll always start comparing himself to Emily when he hears it, and he’s been trying to stop doing that for months.

“Maybe you just, I don’t know,” you continue, drawing him out of his thoughts. “You could just try to be a little less passive aggressive with JJ?”

He opens his mouth, about to flat-out refuse, but before he can, you tack on, “For me? Just a little bit?”

God damn it.

“Only if she stops bothering me,” he says bluntly.

“Yeah, she, um… she was crying when I left, so I think she’s got the message now,” you say quietly.

He feels a bit guilty upon hearing that, but not enough to apologize, or even really regret it. I told her I didn’t want to talk about it, he rationalizes to himself. She’s the one who decided to push it anyways.

After a few moments of silence, you reach out and pat his knee. “I love you, you know.”

He knows what you mean, knows that you don’t mean it like that, but his heart still skips a beat. He responds to you with a nod.

You push yourself to your feet, tell him to take all the time he needs, and you’ll see him when he’s ready to come back in, then walk away.

When he’s certain you’re out of earshot, he whispers back, “I love you, too.”

---

Emily sits down across from him on the plane, and Spencer is immediately reminded of the morning after he caught you and her together. That time, Emily had folded her hands in front of her on the table. This time, she slides something across it to him. He looks up from his book and sees his missing tie, wrinkles ironed out and folded neatly.

“It was in her bed,” she explains when his brow furrows.

Spencer wonders if that made Emily jealous.

He’s not a good enough person to not hope it did.

“Thanks,” he mutters, putting it away in his bag.

Emily’s quiet, but she doesn’t leave. She must have something else to say. He sighs. “What is it?”

“Are you going to Rossi’s house tomorrow night?” she asks.

He looks back down to his book. “I don’t know. I’m not so sure I can make it.”

“Okay. Well, Reid, you can be mad at me for as long as you need to. I’m okay with that.”

Spencer frowns. He kind of wishes she wasn’t being so nice and understanding. It makes it harder to be upset with her, and he wants to be upset with her.

“I’d like to say something to you, though, if that’s okay,” she says.

He reluctantly looks back up. “What?”

Emily holds his gaze. “Thank you,” she says earnestly.

He blinks. “Uh, for what?”

Her voice wavers slightly with emotion as she speaks. “For looking out for her when I couldn’t.”

His eyes drift away from Emily and to the couch where you’re sleeping. “My pleasure,” he replies quietly. When he looks back at Emily, she has a curious look on her face.

For the first time, instead of panicking over keeping his secret, instead of shying away, Spencer looks right back at her. A few seconds later, he thinks he sees a flash of realization in her eyes, but it’s so quick he can’t be sure.

“Well, thank you,” she repeats, and takes her leave. He watches as she leans down and tucks the blanket closer around you. He closes his eyes, leans back in his seat, and imagines a world where he was the one adjusting it instead.

---

“You’re gonna go weeks, months even, feeling fine. And then you’re gonna have a bad day.”

Emily can barely get the hotel room door open, her hands are shaking so much. A bad day. What Hotch called it, she thinks, was a bit of an understatement.

She’s just come back from taking a witness statement to help wrap up the piano man case—or rather, she was trying to take one.

“I was told that you would only give your statement to me.”

“Why didn’t you let me pull the trigger?” Regina asks.

“Because you would be in prison.” Emily understands why Regina is mad at her, and she’s fine with taking the brunt of it. Lying to her to stop her from shooting the unsub was the right thing to do. “I know it’s hard--”

“No, you don’t. You have no idea what it’s like…” Regina pauses briefly, anger radiating off of her. “When the monster from your nightmares comes back for you.”

Emily breaks eye contact and looks down. She knows exactly what that’s like.

Regina recognizes it. “Wait--”

Redirect, redirect, redirect. “Look, I’m here as a courtesy--”

“Something happened to you.”

“So do you want to give me your statement or not?”

But Regina is relentless. “What did you do to him, huh? Did you arrest him like a good FBI agent? Or did you kill him?”

Emily sits down heavily on the spare bed, drawing your attention away from packing up your things for the flight home. “Em?”

She just shakes her head, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and closing her eyes. “It was the right thing,” she whispers to herself. “It was the right thing. I did the right thing.”

You sit down next to her and place your hand on her back. “What happened?”

Emily swallows hard, feeling sick to her stomach. Her hair is sticking to the back of her neck; she tilts her head to try and dislodge it. You catch on and pull it to the side for her.

“Talk to me, baby,” you urge gently. “Just something, anything I can do to help.”

She takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm down enough to speak. “I—I think,” she stutters. “I th—think I just ruined a woman’s pe—peace of m—mind for good.”

You start rubbing circles on her back and ask, “How?”

“You know, when they talk about victims getting revictimized by the system, they mean you.”

Emily shudders involuntarily. “I… you know how we found the unsub with a—a victim?”

Slowly, in sentences fractured by gasping breaths, swallows to hold back the nausea, and even a few sobs, she recounts what Regina said to her.

You murmur something under your breath that she doesn’t catch, then, ever so gently, you pull her into your arms.

Emily Prentiss isn’t one to break down, not in her own home and especially not in front of others. She controls any “negative” emotions as best as she can, her feelings only displayed through a trembling voice, misty eyes, or run-down nails. Screaming, tears, and nervous gestures were not befitting of an ambassador’s daughter, after all, and those habits formed in childhood have stayed with her until this day.

But there’s one person who’s the exception. There’s one person with whom those walls just don’t seem to exist. That person, of course, is you.

You pull her into your arms, and Emily Prentiss breaks down, because she can. She can because she knows you’ll be there to help put her back together again.

“You never had a chance to mourn your own death, did you?”

She hadn’t understood what her therapist meant when she said it yesterday morning, but Emily thinks she does now. This time last year, what Regina said would have unsettled her, and she would have felt sorry for her, but she probably wouldn’t have dwelt on it much. It’s not last year, though. It’s this year, and she’s coming undone in your embrace over Regina’s words, words she knows will never leave her.

“I didn’t pull the trigger.”

“Still… your monster’s dead. I have to live with mine. That’s my statement.”

Emily has a promise to keep, so she boards the jet early. A few minutes later, Hotch slides into the seat across from her and waits. It still takes her a few moments to collect herself enough to say the words.

“I’m having a bad day.”

---

Spencer’s not sure if you’re going to be able to keep doing this job. He became very familiar with your nervous tics and outward signs of stress during those weeks, and now he can notice them almost immediately.

You seemed okay for the first few months. A few habits cropped up now and then—biting your lip, tapping each fingertip to your thumb in turn—but that was fairly normal. It’s a stressful job.

But then your bottom lip starts getting chapped again, and during conversions with anyone other than Emily, you’re quiet; you often have to be prompted to share your thoughts.

He tries to find out what’s wrong, but when he asks, you shut it down. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” he says quietly. “But, um, you probably should talk to… somebody, you know?”

You barely look up from your paperwork as you respond. “I appreciate the concern, but I’ve been seeing a therapist since this whole shitshow started. I’ve got Emily, too. If anything, I should be telling you to go talk to a professional.”

Spencer just says “okay” again, then a few minutes later he excuses himself to go hide in the bathroom and nurse his hurt feelings. He knows you weren’t trying to be mean. Flipping around the suggestion to him most certainly came from a place of love. But he’s not interested in receiving any kind of psychiatric care—he’s actively opposed to it. So being told anything of that sort upsets him and often makes him angry.

Today it’s just salt in the wound, though. The wound itself is Emily. And god, does he ever feel guilty about the resentment that crops up every time her name is in your mouth. She was dead, and every day she was gone, he wished she weren’t. He cried countless tears over her and would’ve given anything to at least be able to say goodbye.

Then the impossible happened—she came back. He didn’t have to say goodbye at all. And sure, there was the initial relief and happiness, and the warmest hug ever, but now he finds himself resenting her. He’d never wish for her to be gone again, but he can’t stop the jealousy, no matter how hard he tries.

Recently, when Emily was shot during a case in California, he held back your hair as you leaned out of the door of the SUV and threw up upon receiving the news. Spencer Reid would never deny that he’s a germaphobe, but he wants that. He wants to be the one taking care of you, the one whose shoulder you fall asleep on, the one going home with you at the end of the day.

He doesn’t want Emily gone, never, ever again, but he wants you back. Those ten weeks, as awful as they were, weren’t the worst he’s had, because during that time, you were always seeking him out. He knows you didn’t want him that way, but if Emily had really been gone, he thinks one day, that might have changed. The thought always brings tears to his eyes.

Still, he would settle for having you the way he did during the years before he fell for you. Things just haven’t been the same since Emily came back. You don’t stay up late talking anymore. You haven’t a movie night in months. You don’t ask about the books he’s reading or what he did over the weekend. This is it: this is exactly what he was afraid of happening when he found you with Emily.

Spencer doesn’t think it’s personal. He thinks it’s because you’re barely hanging on these days, and just don’t have the energy anymore to do things like you used to.

It still hurts, though. He wonders if it’ll ever stop hurting.

---

Respite can come at the strangest of times and in the oddest of ways. Today, it comes to Emily in the middle of a hostage situation at a bank, in the form of a job offer.

The team is trying to find the I.D. of the Queen of Hearts, one of the robbers, when she gets a surprise call from Clyde Easter, her old Interpol Unit Chief, who gives her the information he knows about the unsub. He doesn’t know her name, but he reminds her that she’s seen the unsub before, at a robbery in Paris while she was living there. Then when the team learns that their unsubs want to fly out to Chad, she calls him back.

“Well, unfortunately Interpol doesn’t have many assets in that particular region in Africa. Maybe that’s something you could help me with when this is over.”

Emily scoffs. “Work for Interpol again? That’ll be the day.”

“Not work, darling. Run,” he corrects. “You see, I’ve been promoted. So, the team’s yours whenever you want it.”

“It’s a hell of a time to bring that up,” she says, ignoring the questioning glances she’s getting from you, Reid, and JJ.

Clyde asks her to think about it, but there’s no time to do that now. She pushes it to the back of her mind and goes back to work.

By the time the day is over, she’s tired. Just tired. You both narrowly survive the explosion in the bank thanks to the alcove you were in, trying to help two elderly patrons. Then a mere hour later, you scare the shit out of her by finding Will strapped to an active bomb and deactivating it yourself. So Clyde’s offer doesn’t come up again until the next morning, when light is spilling through the curtains, illuminating the bedroom with a soft, warm glow.

You face each other in bed, legs twined together under the covers. “What was that about working for Interpol again?” you ask softly, tucking your arm under your head.

“Clyde was promoted,” she replies just as quietly, as to not disturb the peaceful morning feeling. “He offered me his old job. He wants me to run the London office.”

Your eyes widen. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“How are you feeling about that?”

Emily blows out a breath. “I’d like to at least… consider it.”

You reach out, finding her hand in the sheets and lacing your fingers between hers. “What’s stopping you?”

“I’m sure you can guess,” she replies, squeezing your hand back.

“Well, then I think you’re more than just considering it,” you say. “You wouldn’t bring it to me if you didn’t want to take the job.”

Emily thinks for a moment, then admits, “I… I do want to take it. But I have to know what you think, honestly.” She was already robbed out of making one life-changing decision without you in this past year. She has no interest in that happening again.

“Honestly?” you repeat, shifting a little. At her nod, you continue, “I think it’s a good option for us.”

“Us?” she asks, eyebrows raising.

“Yeah, us,” you affirm. “What, you think I’m just going to stay here if you move away?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe. This is the first time we’ve talked about something like this.”

“Fair point,” you say, then sigh. “We’re… both struggling here in D.C., Em. I know it and you know it. This place, this team. It used to be my home, but now, I just… it’s not like it was before.”

“You don’t trust Hotch anymore,” Emily says quietly.

You let out a small, broken chuckle. “I’ve tried. I’ve been trying so hard. I know he did what he thought he had to, but I just… I can’t.”

“It’s okay to feel that way,” she points out. She lets go of your hand to reach up and wipe away a tear that breaks your lash line. “In fact, I’d say it’s reasonable, with what you went through.”

You close your eyes and nod, putting your hand on top of hers to keep it on your cheek. “I know it’s been hard for you, too.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I wanted to come back, and at first, I felt like I was home. But I just can’t go back to my old life and pretend that nothing happened. The only time I feel at home now is… well, it’s when I’m alone with you, just like this.”

“Emily Prentiss, I had no idea you were such a romantic,” you say, cracking a smile.

“Oh, stop,” she says, but she’s blushing. When your giggles subside, she speaks again. “I would love for you to come to London with me. But I don’t want you to forget what you’d be leaving. There’s still a lot of good here.”

You nod. “There is. I’m just not sure it’s enough anymore,” you say softly.

“I understand. You can think about it. I don’t need an answer now.”

So you don’t give her one, not right away. But you do a few hours later. So Emily picks up her phone and dials Clyde’s number.

---

JJ’s a beautiful bride, but Spencer’s eyes keep drifting over to you. The dress you’re wearing tonight is wonderful; from the cut to the color, it suits you perfectly. But that’s not what’s really got his attention. It’s the way you’re carrying yourself. You’re smiling, and you seem truly happy, without any reservations. But there’s also a bit of sadness clinging to you, and he can’t tell what’s causing it.

The party has been going on for a while by the time he finds himself dancing with you. You’d asked him, and now you’ve steered him a little ways away from everyone else. “There’s something I have to tell you,” you say just as he’s about to ask what’s going on.

To his dismay, he doesn’t have a clue what it’s going to be. He doesn’t like not having at least an idea. He swallows, then says, “Okay.”

You can’t meet his eyes; you look down to the floor instead and watch your feet move in time together. So whatever it is, I’m not going to like it, he thinks, and his anxiety spikes. “What is it?” he asks, tightening his grip on you without really meaning to.

You take a deep breath, then look up. “Emily and I are leaving.”

His heart drops and he stops in his tracks, causing you to stumble a little over his feet. “Oh, shi—sorry,” he says. “I just—you’re leaving the BAU? But you’re still going to be in D.C., right?”

You sigh, then guide him off the dance floor and to a quiet spot not too far away. “You remember what Emily said about working for Interpol again yesterday?”

“Interpol?” he repeats, his voice pitching upwards. “You mean, like, overseas?”

“London, to be specific.”

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He doesn’t know what to say. Things were a little rocky between you and him when Emily came back, and for a little while afterwards, sure, but recently he’d started to feel like he had his best friend back.

Apparently he couldn’t be more wrong.

Spencer’s used to people leaving. First it was his dad, then Ethan. Elle was next, quickly followed by Gideon. JJ was forced out, and although she ended up coming back, it didn’t erase the pain he felt in her absence. And then there was everything that happened with Emily.

So, Spencer’s used to people leaving. In a way, he almost expects it.

He just wishes it would stop hurting so damn much.

What is it about me? he wonders. What is it that makes people run away? There’s clearly something wrong with--

“Hey!”

He jumps, startled out of his introspection. When his eyes refocus on you, you put your hands on your hips.

“I don’t appreciate people being mean to my best friend, you know,” you tell him seriously.

“Uh…” He blinks a few times. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“That includes him being mean to himself,” you continue. “I know what you were thinking.”

“What? No, you don’t,” he protests.

“Don’t I?” You put the tip of your finger on your chin. “Was it or was it not something along the lines of, people always leave me, why do they do that, there must be something wrong with me?”

He hates that you’re right, so he doesn’t answer, just scowls and looks away.

“It’s not true, you know.”

“Sure,” he mutters. Sure it isn’t. You’ve only just added your name to the list.

“I mean it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Look at me.”

Spencer doesn’t, and your resulting sigh sounds so frustrated, and then he thinks, Oh, great work, Reid. (Y/N) tells you she’s leaving and what do you do? You piss her off. Honestly, it’s no wonder--

And then your hands are on his face, cradling his cheeks, and he’s too surprised to resist your gaze anymore.

“It’s not your fault, Spencer,” you say, your voice equal parts firm and gentle. “You didn’t drive me away. Not even close. There’s nothing inherently wrong with you, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He sniffs, trying to hold back the sudden onslaught of emotions you’ve just caused. “Well, I could have gone without picking a fight with you on our first day back at work,” he says, sniffling again.

“What’re you tal—Spencer, that was almost a year ago.”

“Nine months.”

“Whatever. The point still stands. You’re not why I’m leaving, okay? You’re…” you trail off and he’s alarmed to see your eyes grow wet. “You’re the opposite, actually. You were the only thing keeping me here when Emily was gone. And now, you’re why it’s so hard to leave.”

“I am?” he whispers before he can think better of it.

“You are,” you affirm. “I think Emily’s actually a little worried you’re gonna talk me out of it.”

It gets a laugh out of him, but right after a little sob escapes him and he squeezes his eyes shut. When you hug him, he immediately reciprocates, wrapping his arms around your middle tightly.

“Hey, this isn’t the end, okay?” you say, and he can tell from the way your voice is trembling that you’re crying, too. “I know you like to ignore it, but we do live in the digital age, and I’ll be hounding you to talk to me at least once a week. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“I’d certainly hope not,” he murmurs, resting his head on your shoulder.

The two of you stay like that for a while, just holding each other, trying not to cry too much. Eventually, you pull away. “Besides, it’s not like I’m leaving first thing in the morning. Our flight isn’t for another ten days. I’m gonna be around.”

Spencer nods. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeat, then swipe at your face, clearing away the tears. “Um, we should head back. You still owe me a dance.”

And dance with you he does, swaying gently from side to side with his hand resting on your waist. A look over your shoulder shows Emily and Derek dancing in a similar manner; judging by the way he’s holding her, she told him the news as well.

He has an eidetic memory, but Spencer makes the effort to commit this moment to his brain all the same. He wants to remember the way you’re holding him, resting your head on his chest and running your thumb over the back of his hand every so often. He wants to remember how your skin feels against his, the texture of your hair. The lighting in the backyard and the way it makes you glow. The words that you said, telling him that it’s not his fault, that nothing’s wrong with him. He’s not quite sure he believes it, but you’ve never lied to him before, so he’ll try to accept it.

The song ends, and tears threaten to fall again when you pick up your head and take a step back.

“Hey, no more crying tonight,” you say. “Because if you start crying, I’ll start crying, and I don’t want to cry any more tonight. Save it for my grand exit at the airport terminal.”

That makes him break into a smile and he’s able to blink back the tears. “Okay.”

“Do you mind if I take this dance?” It’s Emily, and she’s looking at him, head tilted in your direction.

“Oh, um.” He clears his throat. “No, um, go—go ahead.”

He passes your hand to her, and what he feels is silly. You’re not some prize to be won; you don’t belong to anyone other than yourself. But he feels like he’s passing you off to Emily, almost… entrusting you to her. The look Emily gives him makes him think she understands this.

“Wait,” you say before she can properly take you into her arms. You lean towards him and press a kiss to his cheek.

Spencer doesn’t stay around to watch you two dance. He retreats back into the house, fingertips on the spot you kissed. He lets them sit there for a moment, then forces himself to drop his hand. It’s far past time for him to try and move on. He doesn’t want you to leave, but it might be what he needs.

Maybe, just maybe, with some distance, he can begin to heal.

---

On the first day at work without you, Spencer finds a small frame on his desk. He immediately recognizes the picture inside of it—it’s the one you’d kept as your lockscreen for months, much to his dismay.

It’s a picture from the relatively early days of your friendship, well before he felt anything that wasn’t platonic towards you. You’d dragged him out on a weekend off to a nearby amusement park, because, “you can’t die without having ridden a roller coaster at least once, Spence.” He had no desire to do so, but he didn’t have any other plans, so he went along with it.

The roller coaster ended up making him vomit, and the picture is from shortly after that. You’re holding up the camera with one hand and making a peace sign with the other, smiling from ear to ear. He still looks a little queasy, only managing a small smile, but he still looks somewhat happy. And he was, that day. Other than the nausea, he’d had a lot of fun with you.

He picks up the frame and feels something on the back of it. He flips it over and finds one of his lilac colored post-it notes, displaying your handwriting.

“When it’s time to go, remember what you’re leaving. Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me.”

Tears blur his vision. Doctor Who. Of course you picked Doctor Who. And you’ve written something else, too, in smaller letters:

If you don’t answer my calls at least twice a month, I’ll tell JJ you’ve been stealing from her Cheetos stash for eight years. Love ya.

He laughs out loud, a little wet giggle that he has to follow up with a sniffle. He slips the note under the frame’s felt backing to keep it safe, then rearranges his things until he settles on the perfect spot for it to sit on his desk. He retrieves a fresh sticky note and scribbles down a reminder to himself to call you when he gets home, sticking it the cover of one of his books. After all, he can’t have JJ knowing about his thievery. The team’s good at what they do, but he doesn’t think anyone would be able to find his body once JJ’s done with him.

His eyes drift back to the photograph, coming to a stop on your face. He misses you already. He even misses the ugly bits, when you’d snapped at each other, when you were crying on his shoulder. When he saw you with Emily that first time. It’s an odd mix of emotions. Longing, nostalgia, grief, happiness, safety. Belonging.

Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me.

Spencer couldn’t agree more.

---------------

tell me what you thought here!

oh my god, i can hardly believe it’s over. there’s still going to be a small epilogue, but it’s optional. thank you, thank you, thank you, to everyone who read and supported this series and your enthusiasm for it. you’ve made me so very happy. and if you relate to spencer in this, i want you to know you’re gonna find your someone someday. if that’s what you want, i believe you’ll find it eventually. much love to all of you. 💖

series taglist: @sobereinstein , @zizzlekwum , @goldensatine , @closetedreidstan , @afuckingshituniverse , @uswntxx , @johnmulaneyslut , @90spumkin , @mcntsee , @zhuzhubii , @shadyladyperfection , @mggbler , @eva-cadeau , @esmesisle , @anothergayinthelife , @wecouldbreakthedistance , @zozoleesi , @calm-and-doctor , i think that’s everyone?? so sorry if i missed you.

#spencer reid x reader #emily prentiss x reader #spencer reid fanfic #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #angst #spencer reid #emily prentiss #my fic #my god this took so long #i also referenced im3 twice in this i am a tony stan first and foremost lol

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

BTS Reaction | Cheating On Their Girlfriend With You [Request]

A/N: I get a lot of anon’s telling me that I condone cheating because I write about it, I in noway condone cheating, this again is fiction so please don’t come at me for writing about something people want to read. I don’t condone cheating cause I know how much of a bitch it is. No part 2 to this one guys as I don’t think it needs it. [BTS X Fem!Reader]

Also fun fact I’m trying to get back into writing the longer reactions I promise, it’s just hard when there isn’t much to go on. I do get a lot of messages asking why they aren’t as long anymore but sometimes its harder than usual when I don’t have a lot to go on with the reaction.

Seokjin:

The suitcases were left by the front door as you and Jin walked through the log cabin, he'd rented it out for the weekend away for you both. He'd told the boys that he was going away for inspiration but in reality, he'd been dying to take you out, somewhere you could go and be alone together where the paparazzi couldn't find you and you could be alone.

"This is perfect," You whispered looking at the fireplace in the middle of the cabin living room, he wrapped his arms around you from behind and hummed in agreement with you.

"I can't wait to be with you all weekend. Just the two of us." He whispered kissing your neck as you giggled at him pushing him away from you and looking around.

"Before we get to that I want something to eat." You laughed going over to the small kitchen to make you both something to eat, you were about to ask him what he wanted when his phone started ringing. The caller ID ripped a hole into your perfect weekend, his girlfriend's name appeared on the screen and you instantly felt guilt wash over you as you realised that you were playing happy families when he was with someone else.

"Hey, don't let her get to you." He whispered turning his phone over so it was faced down on the counter and you couldn't see it, his hands touched your arms but instead of the warm feeling you got from him. You got cold and you pulled away from him shaking your head,

"I've got a headache, I think I'm going to take a shower." You whispered to him trying to ignore the guilt pressing down on you. Jin and you had been dating in secret for months now but he was with someone else, he'd been with her for so long that he was finding it hard to break up with her. He promised you he would do it soon but it never seemed to be the right time to do,

"Let me join you-"

"No Jin, you cook us something to eat. I'm starving." You kissed his cheek trying to pretend that you were fine but it was hard to do that when you knew what you were doing to his girlfriend. She didn't deserve it, she was one of the kindest girls you'd ever met but Jin didn't love her, he wasn't in love with her anymore.

"Okay baby, I love you." You smiled softly at him and hummed back to him before taking your suitcase and going into the en-suite. You loved him more than words could ever describe but loving him when he was in a relationship was hard. You both knew what you were doing was wrong but it was hard to stop it when you both felt so strongly toward one another.

You stripped out of your clothes and stared at the small developing bump that was forming on your stomach, you were pregnant with his child and it was one of the reasons you wanted to get him up into the mountains. You could tell him here that you were pregnant and you'd have the whole weekend to come up with a way to tell his girlfriend or for him to dump you and leave you with the baby not that Jin would ever do that. He wasn't that kind of guy.

"Food's ready!" His voice called out, your hair was wrapped up in a towel and you were sat on the floor with your head in your hands. As soon as you'd gotten out of the water you began vomiting thanks to the morning sickness which hit you at every moment of the day.

"You alright? You look sick." He whispered coming over to you and holding his hand on your forehead, you shook it off of you trying to eat the food he'd made you. Since getting pregnant you'd done nothing but eat all of the time and you craved everything,

"Just hungry." You lied taking the plate and sitting down to eat it, he continued to stare at you and the longer he did the more he started to think something was wrong.

"Are you breaking up with me?" You choked on the food you were eating as the words flew from his mouth,

"B-break up with you? Jin I'm in love with you why would I break up with you?" He shrugged his shoulders, he didn't want to lose you. He'd been getting ready to break up with his girlfriend and it was the weekend he was finally going to tell you it was going to happen.

"Maybe you're getting sick of hiding but I promise after this weekend there will be no more secrets between us and her. I'll tell her everything and we won't have to hide anymore." You looked at him and nodded tearing up, it was all you ever wanted him to do. You didn't like the hiding and sneaking around behind her back, sure it was going to hurt her but it was better than continuing on for months, or years and having it hurt worse.

"No more secrets," He promised you and went to hug you but you pushed him away,

"There's something you need to know then..." You whispered putting down the knife and fork you were eating with and sighing.

"What is it?" You took his hand - which was resting on your arm- and placed it over your top on the small pump that was there.

"I'm pregnant..." You whispered to him and his eyes stared down at his hand on the t-shirt,

"Pregnant?" He stuttered out looking at you and then to his hand once again as he realised what you'd said, all of it processing into his head.

"You're carrying my baby?" You nodded as a giant smile formed on your face, you had no idea why you were so worried about telling him before, he'd always expressed his want for a family and now it was finally going to happen.

"A baby!" He yelled dropping down to his knees in front of you and cooing to the stomach.

Yoongi:

You could feel eyes on you the moment that you walked through the door of the dorms, you'd come to see Jungkook and Jimin since they'd done nothing but bug you for the last week about it.

"Y/n?" You looked at Yoongi who was sitting on the sofa watching you closely as you walked through the dorms, you stared over at him and the feelings came rushing back to you.

"I'm here for Jungkook and Jimin." You said quickly not wanting to seem like you were there for him. Things between you both had been awkward since you'd slept together at a party last week, it wouldn't normally be a big deal since you used to be friends with benefits but you'd stopped once he got a girlfriend who loved him and treated him great but there was one small problem with that. He didn't love her back.

"I didn't-"

"Y/n! Is that you?!" Jimin called out from the bedroom, you walked away from what would have been the most awkward conversation known to man if you'd stayed there and went into Jimin's bedroom. He was sitting there with Jungkook playing the guitar and smiling at you, he was one of your closest friends and the sole reason that you and Yoongi had met.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Jungkook joked watching as you sat down on the desk chair in Jimin's room and smiled at them both. You were being unusually quiet for you and it made them nervous to see it.

"What's wrong?" You shook your head trying to snap out of it yourself and went into your bag pulling out the snacks and movies you'd brought along for the night.

"I can't stay over, I have to get up early for work." You told them as you put everything down onto the desk behind you,

"Yoongi is up early he'll take you in the car," Jimin said not seeing the big deal with it and to them, it wasn't a big deal. Just two friends getting a ride to work together except it wasn't just two friends, it was two lovers who were hopelessly in love with one another but couldn't do a single thing about it. Jungkook stared at you waiting for some kind of answer from you while you stared into space trying to come up with some excuse as to why you couldn't go with Yoongi but there was nothing.

"Sure." You whispered knowing you had spare clothes here to change into for the morning so that excuse was unavailable to use.

"Great, we'll go sit in the living room and use the big TV, Yoongi and his girlfriend had it all day." You tried to act as though you weren't bothered that his girlfriend had been there, it wasn't your place to get jealous over her.

"She's here?"

"Ugh, yeah. They've done nothing but fight over something all day just like last week, they did nothing but fight but Yoongi went out and came back the next time fine. We think he stayed at her place and they made up." Except it wasn't her that he'd gone it. It was you. He'd shown up on your doorstep crying about her and how he thought she was cheating so he wanted to get back at her. One thing led to another and he was sleeping with you all night, telling you how much he missed and loved you.

"She's in his room trying to cool off from the fight," Jungkook said with disgust laced behind his tone none of them liked her, they were a right fit together and everyone could see it.

"Movies!" You yelled looking at them as they stared at you, they knew something was going on inside of your head but they weren't sure what it was just yet.

(X)

"Wake up," You groaned hearing someone whisper in your ear,

"Five more minutes mum." You pushed whoever it was away from you but you heard the all-too-familiar laughter coming from Yoongi. Your eyes slowly opened to see him kneeling beside you, you were asleep on the sofa alone and you assumed everyone else had gone to bed.

"What Yoongi?" You groaned as he pushed you to sit up so he could sit on the sofa, you grunted out when he forced you to lay your head on his lap. It was how you used to cuddle together after sleeping with one another,

"You can't do this." You told him as you sat up and moved away from him,

"I can't do what?"

"Tell me how much you love me and then go back to her. You can't." You were going to end up just as hurt as she was if he kept doing this but he moved closer to you, kissing your lips, cheeks and down to your neck.

"I'm not with her, I'm with you." You whimpered as he kissed your sweet spot, you hated that he knew just how to get you whimpering for him.

"She's right next door," You whispered as he laid you down on the sofa so your back was against the leather,

"Then let her walk out here and see us, I don't care. I'm sick of hiding how much I love you." He kissed you passionately and you let go not caring if anyone walked out and saw you right now, let alone her. He kissed down your neck and pulled at the shirt you were wearing, the top buttons popped open and he stopped kissing you and held the necklace you were wearing in his hand.

"You kept this?" It was a necklace he'd gotten you with his initials on the back when you first started sleeping together,

"Yeah, I erm...I never take it off." You coughed out trying to make it seem like it wasn't a huge deal but it was to Yoongi, no one had ever expressed their love like that for him.

"Screw it," He whispered kissing you quickly before going into the bedroom his girlfriend was sleeping it, he was going to end it once and for all even if it was 5 am and everyone was asleep. He couldn't keep doing it anymore.

Hoseok:

You'd had a crush on Hoseok since you'd met him and you blamed your brother for it never developing into anything else. Jungkook decided that as your brother it was his place to tell all of the boys that you were off-limits even though you were an adult who could make up her own decisions and do what you wanted whenever you wanted.

"Hi Hobi," He looked at you as you came rushing down the stairs to greet him, you were dressed in a pair of shorts and one of Jungkook's old jumpers that looked huge on you. You looked adorable to him but he looked away and at the floor remembering that he had a girlfriend back home waiting for him.

"Hoseok's staying for the weekend, did you make up the guest room as mum asked?" You stared at your brother with a raised eyebrow,

"Do I look like a maid?" He nodded and you rolled your eyes going back towards the staircase,

"I can do it, it's no big deal," Hoseok said but you looked at Jungkook,

"You're the guest. Just take your stuff up while I order us food." You rushed up the staircase to get some fresh bedding out for the bed and towels for the en-suite.

Hoseok swallowed the lump that was in his throat as he watched you bend over the bed to tuck the fitted sheet into place, he was slowly watching the edge tear away and he rushed over pushing it back but in the process, it looked like he was bending you over the bed.

"Oh, shit. Sorry." He moved away and you giggled pushing hair behind your ear.

"It's okay, thanks though." You said as you pointed at the corner which was now back on the mattress, you turned around to face him and picked up the quilt cover and began putting it on the duvet.

"I could have done this," He offered but you shook your head,

"It's okay. Jungkook would have kicked off. You're the guest you're supposed to be the one relaxing." You bent back over the bed as you went to put the covers onto it and he let out a low grunt,

"How can I relax when you look like this?"

"What?" You said in unison, his eyes widened in fear as he realised he'd said that out loud and not in his head like he thought he had.

"D-Do you want me to change?" You questioned suddenly feeling insecure and thinking that he thought you looked bad, he got up from the chair he was sitting on and shook his head.

"No, I want you to wear my jumper, be in my arms and fuck I want to kiss you." You pinched your own arm thinking it was some kind of ultra-realistic dream or that you'd somehow fallen into the matrix.

"Kiss me." You whispered to him staring up into his eyes as he stared down into yours, he cupped your face and leant forward connecting your lips. As soon as you did you felt your heart pound against your chest trying to get out, he backed you up to the wardrobe and then pushed against the back of your legs for you to jump up into his arms.

"I've wanted this for so long," He whispered carrying you over to the bed and laying your back down against the mattress,

"Me too." You panted as he pulled away for a moment only to kiss you again until reality was brought crashing down above you.

"FOOD!" You broke apart and he realised where he was and who he was without another word he left the bedroom and you stared after him wondering what you'd done wrong.

(X)

Four in the morning and you were sitting on the sofa eating cold leftover pizza from the boys, you'd avoided Hoseok since the kiss happened not wanting to get in his way while he tried to pretend that it didn't happen.

"Where are you going?" You asked hearing the floorboard near the front door creek, you assumed it was your brother sneaking out but when you looked away from the TV you saw Hoseok.

"S-Sorry, I thought it was Kookie sneaking out for ice cream without me." You whispered looking away from him and going back to your TV show.

"You sneak out for ice cream with him?" You nodded and looked at him, he was holding his car keys but didn't have his bag with him so he was sneaking out to go somewhere.

"I was going to clear my head, want to go get ice cream instead?"

"I know this great McDonalds," You said without giving it a second thought and going out with him towards his car.

You were sitting in the car together after finishing your ice cream together and he turned to look at you,

"That kiss-"

"Was a mistake? You never want it to happen again and don't worry I won't tell Jungkook?" He started laughing and shook his head at you as you answered none of the questions he was even going to ask you.

"What?"

"Nothing, I was just going to ask you not to tell anyone until I get back and sort things out with my girlfriend." You head went back to Jungkook telling you about Hoseok's girlfriend, she was supposed to be one of the sweetest girls and you'd just made out with her boyfriend heavily on the guest bed and were now having ice cream with him at 4:30 in the morning.

"Oh." You looked down at the empty cardboard cup trying to think of something to say,

"I need to break things off with her, I can't keep dating her when I'm in love with someone else." He whispered to you tilting your chin up to look at him and smiling at you.

"Then all I have to do is deal with your brother and make sure he doesn't kill me before I get to take you out on a real date."

Namjoon:

Your hands were all over Yoongi as you laughed at something he was saying, Namjoon stared at you from across the room glaring heavily as you giggled at something.

"Cat got your tongue?" Jin teased looking at Namjoon who was now shaking his head and turning to look at his Hyung,

"Don't be stupid. I hate her." He grumbled folding his arms over his chest and pretending that he wasn't annoyed by you standing with Yoongi and acting like a couple.

"You don't hate her, you just have misplaced feelings." Namjoon was starting to regret giving Jin a psychology book for Christmas last year so he moved away from him. Namjoon had hated you since the day he'd met you,

"Mmm Baby we should go soon, I have a headache." Namjoon's girlfriend slurred at him but he didn't care about her right now, he was busy watching you throw yourself all over his friends while they pretended to love the attention. Anyone would have to pretend to like you there was no way anyone could tolerate you of all people.

"What's Namjoon's problem with me?" You asked Jungkook and Yoongi as you stood in the living room of the party, Jungkook looked over at his leader and shook his head. They all knew what his problem was but he wasn't going to say anything to you or to Namjoon himself - he valued his life and wasn't going to risk losing his head over mentioning it.

"He's just being rude," Yoongi lied looking at Jungkook with a knowing look. Everyone knew. It was pent up sexual frustration that he'd had for you since the day he met you, he knew he could never have you and the feelings he had for you developed into hatred and he'd convinced himself he hated you.

"Very rude, tell him to leave me alone and quit staring." You laughed going to make yourself another drink. You tried to push down the hurt you felt whenever Namjoon looked at you like that, he looked at you like he wanted to kill you and while it was hot it was scary and you hated it. You'd always had a crush on him but the more he stared at you like that the more you started to hate him.

(X)

"You're unbelievable." You heard him mumble as he walked past you trying to get to the kitchen,

"Excuse me?" You questioned finally having enough. The whole night it had been snide comments to you as he walked by you and you'd finally had enough of it.

"You heard me," He snarled at you and you shook your head at him,

"No, you see. I don't think I did. What's your problem?!" You snapped at him and that was it, he grabbed your wrist and pushed you against the tiled wall in the kitchen.

"You're my fucking problem, you know why?!" You whimpered trying to get out of his grasp but he pushed you harder against the wall until you felt what his problem was.

"You're my problem, fuck! You think you're so damn good, don't you! Walking around here in those skimpy little outfits, flirting with all of us when you know we can't have you." You smirked as you realised what his problem was the whole time and you knew it was your problem too, he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

"Why aren't you have me?" Your voice was low and seductive as you ran your knee up the inside of his thigh being gentle not to hurt or catch him in the process. He let out a breathy groan and looked at you,

"You're playing with fire," You smiled and stood up on your tiptoes and kissed him,

"So let's get burnt." It was cheesy to say but you didn't care, he grabbed your face and kissed you roughly growling against your lips as he felt your hand starting to palm him through his jeans. Neither of you cared that you were in the middle of the kitchen making out,

"Finally," Jungkook said as he caught you both,

"Took them long enough, uh-oh-" Jin said as Namjoon's girlfriend walked into the kitchen to see what the big deal was,

"What the fuck-" Namjoon pulled away and looked at her, he didn't even care that he was making out with you two seconds before. He licked his lips and shook his head at her,

"What do you care? You do this all the time with your girl friends," He smirked at her, you stared at him as they began bickering back and forth with one another.

"Whatever, you're free to do what you want. I don't care anymore," He said cooly to her bending down to pick you up, you squealed as he carried you towards the staircase ignoring his now ex-girlfriends screams after him to stop.

Jimin:

Jimin pulled you through the empty house kissing you as he roughly pushed you against the front door. It was the first time you were ever going to get to spend time together in his own house instead of some silly motel or hotel room that neither of you liked.

"Fuck I've missed you." You whimpered as he ripped off your jacket and threw it down onto the floor, neither of you had to be careful today. You were alone for the week since his girlfriend had gone out of town to visit with friends and wouldn't be back.

"I missed you too." He grunted before picking you up and carrying you into the living room where he laid you down on the sofa, he was going to take advantage of everything he could. He'd promised he was going to fuck you on every surface he could and he meant it, he pulled off your skirt and smirked as he saw that you were bare underneath it,

"You're going to be the death of me." He whispered kissing you roughly again,

"I hope not." You whimpered as he began sucking harshly on the skin of your neck moving you so he could sit on the sofa, he sat you down on his lap and you giggled at him.

"Jimin please don't waste time." He tutted pulling away from you and smirking, he ran his hand over your cheek.

"We have all the time in the world, I can be as slow as I want." He told you as he thrust his hips up against yours so you could feel his hard-on through his jeans.

"I hate it when you tease." You whispered looking at him as he smirked at you, you grabbed his face and kissed him lovingly wanting to fade into the idea of this being romantic instead of wrong and deceitful.

(X)

The last four days had been nothing but magical, you'd locked all of the doors and windows, shut the curtains and turned off your phones just so you could be alone together without anyone trying to ruin your time together. You'd cook for him all the time, he made dinners while you made breakfast and lunch...If you could get out of bed in time for breakfast that was,

"I've loved this," You admitted running your hands over his bare chest, you were laying together that night staring at the ceiling. He hummed at you to continue what you were saying and you smiled,

"It feels real like we're really together," He knew what you meant and he knew that you were getting sad about having to stop this soon. His girlfriend would be bad and pretty soon you wouldn't be able to see him as much as you'd both like to.

"We are really together." He brought your hand up to his mouth and left a soft kiss on the top of your hand but you shook your head at him, it was going to get deep and it was a make or break situation.

"Why are we hiding it..."

"You know why," He whispered to you but you didn't, the whole time you'd been sneaking around with one another you had no idea why you were actually doing it.

"I don't." You sat up in the bed and took the covers with you to cover up your chest.

"Why don't you just leave her?" You whispered and he looked at you, he wanted to. He'd been planning on doing it but it was hard when they had a life like this together,

"We live together." You knew what that meant, it meant he wasn't going to leave her and you were going to end up being the one that was hurt in this situation,

"I should go-" The front door opened and both you and Jimin froze in place,

"She's back early." He whispered looking at you, you had tears in your eyes as you realised he was probably going to ask you to jump out of the window or something but he did something that totally surprised you, he handed you his shirt.

"I'll end it, right here right now." Your put on the t-shirt he was giving you and got ready for the fight of a lifetime that was going to happen.

(X)

There was a fight but it wasn't because of you, it was because of her. It turned out she'd been sleeping around for months as well, it started as a screaming match until they both realised that neither of them had been happy together and didn't want to be with the other.

"You alright?" You asked as he looked around the empty bedroom, she'd packed up everything of hers and left as soon as she could. None of you was ever going to be friends but at least you could say it was a mutual-ish breakup.

"I'm fine, I'm just wondering how we're going to fit any of your clothes into this one wardrobe." He groaned putting down the cup of coffee he was holding,

"You're asking me to move in?"

"I am." He smiled turning to you with winking,

"We've already made it our own, might as well move you in." He chuckled kissing you and laying you down against the floor.

Taehyung:

Namjoon introduced you to one of the staff as you walked up to them, he was trying to get you to stay with her while he went to give a speech for the new album. It was one of the album release parties that Bighit did for their idols and you'd been to almost all of them since the boys debuted and every year the guest list grew larger and you had more people to talk to.

"Where's your date?" She teased looking at you, you pointed over at the guy you'd brought along with you and her mouth fell open.

"I thought you were dating Taehyung." You started laughing softly at her until you realised she was serious,

"Me and Tae? We're just friends." She frowned thinking about all of the times she'd seen you together around the building a lot, everyone in the building thought that you were dating.

"Hi, baby, your drink." You smiled taking the drink away from your date's hand. You didn't want him to call you baby you wanted Taehyung to be the one to call you that, he was the only guy that could ever get away with it but he couldn't be seen with you right now. Taehyung and you flirted a lot but it would never go anywhere because he was in a relationship with someone else even if it was you he came to every night.

"No seriously, you're both so close and he talks about you all of the time." She laughed looking at your date up and down, sizing him up, she could already tell you didn't want him to stand that close to you and you felt uncomfortable with his arm wrapped around your waist.

"He has a girlfriend but it's not me." You managed to get through the sentence without gipping on the words, it wasn't that you hated his girlfriend...well you did but you weren't about to tell everybody that because then you would have to explain why you hated her.

Taehyung stared from across the room as Namjoon got up to give his speech, he knew he was supposed to be listening to his leader but his eyes were on you and the guy you were with. He'd never seen him before and you'd never mentioned him before either whenever you and the boys hung out. Jealously was bubbling up inside of him the longer he saw you with someone else that wasn't him, it was supposed to be only him that was allowed to touch you not some guy you barely knew.

"What's wrong with you?" His girlfriend asked as she laced her hands around him and kissed his neck softly, he wanted nothing more than to push her away and go over to you but he couldn't. Everyone was depending on him and the other idol to work out so that Bighit could use the publicity to promote more of their music.

"Just need some air, go and stand with Y/n and her boyfriend." She smiled and walked away from him, he watched her closely wanting to make sure you knew he'd sent her over there. You locked eyes from across the room and he nodded over at the door, you frowned but nodded back to him confirming that you'd follow him. You'd been friends for so long that you could practically read one another's mind.

"I'll be right back, can you look after him please?" She smiled at you, she was way too nice and it bugged you so much.

"Thanks." You handed her your drink and rushed over to the door that Taehyung had pointed at,

"Taehyung what's the-" You stopped talking when you came face to face with him, he pulled you down the hallway and towards some of the studios that were along the bottom floor.

"Tae, what's the big idea?" He pushed you into the room and slammed the door behind him, locking it and turning to look at you.

"What's wrong with you?" You questioned rubbing your wrist where he'd been holding you and he shook his head as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had no idea what he was doing he was just angry that you'd brought someone else along to this party. He wanted to do nothing but go over and punch the guy in the face for having his arm around you like that, for standing so close to you.

"Who is it? Why did he have his arm around you?" You stared at him as the questions left his mouth so fast it almost sounded as though he was trying to rap about something,

"He's my date? He had his arm around me because again...he's my date." He shook his head at you getting angrier every second, especially when you told him he was your date. As if what you and Taehyung were meant nothing to you.

"Do you like him?" You stayed silent and he instantly knew that meant that you didn't actually like him and he liked that, his heart began to beat faster as he realised he still had a chance.

"Why do you care? You have a girlfriend remember, we're supposed to just be friends." You didn't mean to come across so hostile towards him about her, but if he was allowed to see someone else. Have her touch him and kiss him all of the time what was the big deal with you having someone else instead.

"I care because I love you, and you know that so why did you bring him?" You stared at him and he shook his head at you as though this was your idea of a fun time. Pretending not to be in love with him while he acted like a happy couple with her.

"You chose to stay with her-"

"You know I have to for Bighit." You looked down at your hands, it was true. He had to fake being in love with her for the sake of his band members they all knew it was wrong but Bighit were the ones who called the shots around them and they couldn't defy them.

"I know...Maybe we should stop. I mean you have to learn to love her right?" He grabbed onto your hands and held them on his chest,

"Don't. We're not going to break up over this." He whispered looking at you as you finally let some tears roll down your face, you knew that it was his job and it was what he had to do but it didn't stop it from hurting any less.

"You're cheating on her with me Taehyung, don't you feel guilty?" He shook his head at you tearing up as he realised how much this was truly affecting you. You'd never talked about it before but now it was all coming out into the open,

"I'll call it off, I don't care. They can fire me, they can stop the production of the album I can't do it anymore." You sniffled as he put his forehead against yours, kissing away the tears whenever they rolled down your cheeks.

"You can't-"

"Watch me, if it means hurting you like this I can't keep doing it. I want everyone to know you're mine." He whispered kissing you passionately, he reached behind him for the door handle but you stopped him.

"If you go out and break her heart it'll make it worse for business, talk to your managers first." You wanted nothing more than for everyone to know who you loved but you knew it wouldn't be good if he just ripped out her heart and embarrassed her in front of everyone.

"Then we pretend for the night that we're not together, we do it business as usual until everything is okay." You told him as you checked your makeup in the small mirror in the room, he nodded at you and gave you another small kiss on the top of your head.

Jungkook:

Jungkook had made it clear to you that when you first started going behind his girlfriends back that he didn't care if she found out or not, he'd never loved her and he didn't plan on trying to but he couldn't break up with her. He'd never given you a reason as to why he couldn't just break off the relationship so you just went along with it. Allowing him to go behind her back and not care if she found out this way or not, your arms were linked together as you walked through the club together looking for Jimin. It was his birthday and just like Jimin he was going all out and throwing one of the biggest parties he could come up with,

"No Mina?" Jimin teased watching as you and Jungkook stood at the bar together, Jungkook's hand rested on your ass as you ordered a drink deciding it was going to take a strong one to get through the night full of teasing from the boys. They all knew that you and Jungkook were going behind Mina's back but it wasn't their place to do anything, they knew you and Jungkook had been trying to be together for years and if the time was right it was right.

"Mina's at home, she's sick." Jungkook threw back the scotch you'd ordered him and then lead you over to the dance floor swaying you back and forth while he ground against your ass.

"Isn't this a bad idea," You told him as you felt him getting hard behind you, you knew the risk as well as he did. Mina could walk in any minute and see you together, she was clueless though. She'd been in the same house as you when he fucked you before and hadn't noticed a thing. She was either clueless or really wanted to cling onto Jungkook and let him do whatever he wanted for the sake of ''love''.

"I don't care, I told you I want you not her." You sighed turning around, you wrapped your arms around his neck and continued dancing along with him,

"If that's true then just end things with her. I'm sick of sneaking-"

"We aren't sneaking, I think we're open about it," He whispered kissing down your neck and smirking as he felt your grip around his neck tighten ever so slightly. He knew how to play you like a violin and you hated it,

"Jungkook I'm serious." You told him as you went back to dancing together he knew you were but it didn't make what he had to do any easier. He had no real reason why he couldn't just break up with Mina, he'd hoped she'd catch you together one day and make his job easier but it wasn't happening any time soon.

"I promise, I'll deal with it." You sighed as he started to kiss you on the dance floor, his lips were your weakness and he knew that,

(X)

Weeks passed and nothing had been done about Mina though she seemed to be getting onto you both, she was always wanting to be around you whenever you and Jungkook planned to hang out. If she was busy she would magically cancel her plans to make sure nothing was going on behind her back which only made you feel more guilty for what you were doing to her. She was really sweet but you were in love with Jungkook and always had been, nothing was going to change that.

"I fucking knew it!" You flinched as you heard her scream, you were standing at the front door about to knock and walk in when you heard her and Jungkook fighting over what you assumed was you and him.

"I see the way you look at her! The way she's always drenched around you! You can fucking have one another!" His clothes were thrown from the bedroom window and she saw you at the door and scoffed.

"Fucking keep him! I hope he does what he did to me to you!" She screamed slamming the window so hard you thought it was going to shatter into pieces. Seconds later the front door opened and Jungkook was ushering you away from the house and over to his car,

"You told her?" He nodded and put you into the passenger side door promising you that he'd buy you new clothes and stuff when you got to a hotel, he just wanted you out of the way while she threw him out of the house and calmed down from her hissy fit.

Tagline:

@writingdreamsnottragedies @snowy-meowl @jooniesdarlingdimples @lyoongx @fan-ati--c @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @rjsmochii @btsiguess-kpop @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @supresoo

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gayestnerdsinfiction · 3 years

Text

bury your heart

cw: brain cancer and all its associated symptoms

read part two here

----

“Okay, here’s one,” Edward said. “When is a person like a piece of wood?”

“Hm,” Jonathan murmured absently, fingers running through Edward’s hair. He resisted the urge to make the first dirty joke that came to mind. “When they’re a ruler?”

“Good guess,” he murmured. He reached up to catch Jonathan’s long nose between his forefinger and thumb. “But, no. When they’re bored,” he revealed, grinning loosely.

Jonathan pulled away, swatting Edward’s hand out of his face. “Yes, Edward, I’m aware you’re bored. I’m not sure what you expect me to do about that.”

“Entertain me.”

“Entertain yourself,” he retorted. “Read a book.” Edward made a face at that, somewhere between annoyance and embarrassment. Realizing his mistake, Jonathan added, “Or listen to one of your stupid podcasts.”

“I keep telling you, the conspiracy theory podcast is not stupid and if you actually listened to it, you’d see that it’s very educational.”

“I’m beginning to understand why you flunked out of school if that’s what you consider educational,” Jonathan muttered. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out, a small reminder lighting up the screen. Meds. He disentangled his fingers from Edward’s hair and slid out of bed, making his way into the bathroom.

“I didn’t flunk out,” Edward called after him. “I dropped out. There’s a difference. They didn’t fire me, I quit.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes but he didn’t respond, instead choosing to focus on rummaging around in the medicine cabinet. He took out his own medications—Lexapro, Clozapine, Zoloft—and then Edward’s. Promethazine for the nausea, Lorazepam for the seizures, Tramadol and Hydrocodone for the pain. And those were just the morning set. Jonathan tucked his pills into his cheek, dipping his head under the faucet to gulp them down with a mouthful of water. Then he brought Edward’s medication into the bedroom for him.

It had been a few weeks of this routine. Bringing Edward his meds in the mornings, again in the evenings. Smoothing his hair away from his clammy face as he vomited, knuckles going white from gripping the edge of the toilet. Watching him struggle to remember things, complete simple tasks.

Jonathan had seen some pretty awful things in his life. Gruesome deaths and life threatening infections and overdoses and people clawing their own skin off during toxin induced hallucinations. He had seen all of those things and yet this was still hard to watch. Maybe harder than anything else. The only thing keeping him from spiraling entirely out of control were the few painkillers he was able to sneak from Edward’s prescription. It took the edge off, kept him from thinking too hard about the fact that his friend was slowly dying in his home, his bed.

“Here’s another,” Edward said, swallowing his pills dry. He was at least in good spirits today, chattering away almost like his usual self. “We’re five little items of an everyday sort; you’ll find us all in ‘a tennis court’.”

“Vowels. That’s an easy one.” Jonathan sat back down on the bed and Edward wasted no time before depositing his head in Jonathan’s lap.

“Well, excuse me for not being at the top of my game,” he replied sarcastically. “The cancer makes it hard to think, you know.”

He tried to muster some kind of joke in response but nothing came to mind. He didn’t mind when Edward made light of his own illness, but for Jonathan to do the same felt incredibly inappropriate. Because it wasn’t funny, not to him.

“Maybe we could go somewhere today,” Edward suggested hesitantly, interrupting Jonathan’s thoughts. “I’m tired of being cooped up in here.”

“Might I remind you that the reason you’ve been cooped up in here is because you’re too sick to stand half the time?”

“But I feel alright today,” he insisted. He sat up, getting out of bed with a labored groan to demonstrate. “See?” he said cheerfully, spreading his arms. The gesture just made it even more apparent how thin he’d gotten, how wobbly his stance was. “I’m standing. I might even take a few steps, really go for it, y’know?”

“I don’t know, you don’t want to go too crazy,” Jonathan said dryly. “You might hurt yourself.”

Edward crawled back onto the bed, kneeling beside Jonathan. The dark circles marring his pale, sallow skin were deep but his emerald eyes were bright, eager. “We could go play chess in the park,” he proposed. “That’d be alright, wouldn’t it? I could sit down, get some air. Get some sun, God, I could really use a bit of sun, look at the state of my skin.” He peered up at Jonathan. “What do you think?”

He nodded slowly. “Okay. Later, though. I have things that need doing before I can go out.”

Edward grinned, his upturned nose bumping against Jonathan’s cheek as his balance wavered slightly. Quickly, as if to cover the slip, he pressed a kiss to the same spot. “Can I sit with you while you work?” he asked.

Jonathan frowned. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. The chemicals—”

“I’ll wear a mask,” he interrupted. “Please?”

“Edward…” He sighed. “I don’t think huffing a bunch of toxic fumes is advisable if you want to still be feeling alright by the time we go out.”

Edward pouted, pulling away. “How about a riddle?” he asked, sounding thoroughly glum. He tucked his legs up against his chest. “When is a person like a piece of wood?”

Jonathan’s jaw tensed. “When they’re bored,” he answered, watching Edward’s reaction closely.

Edward just sighed, resting his head on one of his knees. “Gold star for Jonathan,” he said with a dejected twirl of his finger, unable to conceal the bitterness in his voice.

He swallowed. So Edward hadn’t realized. “You know you used that riddle before,” he said carefully.

His eyes darted over to Jonathan. “Really? When?”

“Just a few minutes ago.”

“Oh.” The silence between them was thick, heavy. “So you cheated,” Edward joked humorlessly.

“I guess I did.” Jonathan draped a long arm across Edward’s narrow shoulders. “Maybe I can… I suppose there are things I can work on outside of the lab. If you insist on having my company for the day.”

“I don’t want to trouble you,” he mumbled.

“It’s no trouble.” He gave Edward’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’s easier to let you watch me work than to come up with some other way to occupy your attention.”

He felt Edward smiling as he nuzzled against Jonathan’s neck. “I do require constant enrichment, after all.”

“Yes,” he murmured, “like a zoo animal.”

The comment earned him a swift smack on the leg from Edward. “Bastard,” he grumbled. “I have a terminal illness and this is how you talk to me? How would you feel if those were your last words to me, would you be satisfied with that?”

A lump rose in Jonathan’s throat. “No, I wouldn’t,” he said tightly. “And that’s not funny.”

“I think it is.”

He shot Edward an icy look. “I don’t.”

Edward balked, lowering his gaze as he relaxed against Jonathan’s chest. “Got to have fun somehow,” he muttered.

“Well I’m sorry it’s not fun for me to be reminded of your impending death,” Jonathan said tersely. “I suppose that is where our senses of humor differ.” He felt a flutter of something unpleasant in his chest and he forced it back down, forced his attention away from it. Jonathan started to get up from the bed, started to go to the bathroom to snag a couple painkillers. But before he could even make it off the mattress Edward’s fist had closed around the hem of his shirt and he was pulling Jonathan back towards him.

“Don’t go,” he pleaded. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not,” he repeated. “I’m…” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence. He was frustrated with Edward for being so glib about his own mortality and he was disappointed in himself for not being able to do more and he was downright terrified of what would happen when Edward was actually, permanently dead. “I’m worried,” he finished lamely.

Edward’s grip tightened around his shirt. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Jonathan pried Edward’s fist away from the handful of fabric, lacing their fingers together. “I don’t know how to stop.”

#scriddler #scarecrow #riddler #jonathan crane #edward nygma #batman #dc #fic #my fic #writing #my writing #cancer cw #i believe...... there will be a part two of this

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soulwillower · 3 years

Text

long way home • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: please please please do a richie x reader about long way home by 5sos

warnings: nothing really, some mentions of canonic trauma but its really vague and underaged drinking

i was happy to write this bc it def got me out of my slump! lmk if yall want more fics

(also i loved 5sos so much back when the self titled album came out in like 2014. i was such a huge fan in middle school so this was so nostalgic to write!!)

[reader + losers are in their first year of college, set around early summer 1995.]

2.9k words

♡

"i don't really know what else to do. we have an hour and a half until we meet everyone." you say, breaking the momentary silence that had fallen upon the car after bev had climbed out the back. you hum, settling back against the passenger seat, head lulling to meet richie's gaze.

you can't help but smile. he's looking at you - just staring, fingers drumming against the steering wheel. he hums, too, turning his head, arm grabbing the shoulder of your seat as he backs up the car. "i have an idea. let's just go - what?" he asks, smiling with a chuckle as he catches you staring at him.

you blink as you flush, "i don't know. just really missed you." you say with a laugh, shaking your head as memories flood your mind. his face flickers for a second and he shakes his head, hair bouncing slightly in his flattery. "gee, i missed you too. it kinda sucks that we all went to opposite sides of the country."

you blow air from your lips gently in agreement as richie starts to drive somewhere east. "yeah. not seeing you for six months is, surprisingly, pretty shitty." you say, causing richie to snort. "you could barely handle it." he says, hand shifting gears as he stops at a stop sign.

you roll your eyes, but you don't tell him the truth: he's right. "let me tell you, when i got the bear last, i sure wanted to forget all about you." you say, kicking your feet up on his dash.

you and the other losers all split ways after graduation. of course, you all still kept in touch with phone calls, letters, and that of the sort. but you all had found a favorite way to all still feel close together: a toy canvas bear bev found that you all signed and drew on, shipping it around the country and letting it stay with each person for a week.

you'd all been printing photographs of the bear with yourselves at various places around all your campuses and sending them along with the bear as little post cards. the most recent from richie had the tattooed-bear propped next to him at a party, smirking with the bear in a vulgar position that had made you roll your eyes so hard you almost got a headache.

that was in april, and you spent the month and a half after that missing richie and your other dumbass friends so much it hurt.

richie smiles, "oh, yeah. that bear had some fun times with us up in the ol' N-Y-C." "-don't call it that." "-anyways, i did miss you guys, i wish you could meet my roommate, charlie, he's a hoot. i almost wanted to stay up there and have you come to me, y'know?" you nod, all too familiar with that feeling. "yeah, i wanted to do that too. there was some kind of-" you stop, frowning. do you really want to admit this to anyone? will they think it's weird? but then you remember it's richie. "-i don't know, some kind of dread i felt at having to come back here."

it's quiet for a second, and you think you said something wrong, but richie's knuckles tighten slightly and he nods, "me too. i have...bad feelings from this place. i didn't want to say anything, but- i don't know. i feel like something's..." but the thought seems to swim away from his voice, getting lost in the dredges of his brain.

and then as if on cue, the old car bumps its way over a speedbump and you cross past old neibolt street near the tracks.

a sick shiver runs down your spine as your eyes fall on the long road, fading away and extending as far as your eye can see...almost into a foggy dark haze, the train tracks running parallel making you feel desolate.

clouds suddenly move to cover the sun in the sky and you feel cold - you feel like something happened here, something important - but you have no idea. it makes you anxious, so you just swallow, saying nothing and instead looking ahead. richie does the same, and his knuckles are pale against the wheel.

"the only reason i came back was so i could see everyone." you say. it's quiet, but you know richie's agreeing with you.

the car rumbles on, eventually pulling past your old high school. you perk up, pointing to the glass and laughing. "wow, look at that shithole."

"swore we'd never go back there, didn't we? when we left?" richie says, amusement lacing his tone. you're clearly both relieved to have changed the subject, and you nod, chewing your lip. "yeah. you know, i know it was really terrible and stuff, but i have some pretty fond memories from that place."

humming, richie nods and slowly pulls into the parking lot. “remember those days?” he says, “kickin back in the ol’ schoolyard during lunch.”

you do remember those hot days, richie, bill and bev smoking cigs while you and eddie play a game of marbles or scramble to copy richie’s math homework. ben reading a book, mike eating stan’s sandwich. the heat barreling down on the eight of you...

he stops the car next to the football field and you snort slightly at its misery in the dying purple and blue of the summer twilight. "remember those bonfires that were always over in the woods right there?" he points a chipped nail towards the dense trees on the other side of the field, and you can see it.

the crackling of the wood, the orange glow reflecting the light strands of stan’s dark curls. there’s a sea of students from your class and the class above, everyone rowdy with drunken fun. there’s laughter drowned out by the boombox placed on the outskirts, blasting a salt-n-peppa song that has eddie bouncing around with some kids from track. over to the side, you can nearly see bev's lips curl around a note as richie strums on someone else's guitar, putting together some surprisingly pleasant chords while mike throws twigs into the fire, singing softly with richie and bev.

you can almost smell the smoky hot air from those nights and you remember the odd sensation of feeling invincible back in those days, when your greatest fear was nothing more than coming across your parents when you were too hungover to remember anything the next morning.

it’s almost melancholic, the realization that you’ll never have those years again. you’ll never have your friend group in the same way as you did in high school, and it was barely over a year ago. it hurts a bit, until you realize you’re here, in the car with richie.

but still, despite the feeling, you grin. “why did we think it was a good idea to party so close to the school?”

richie chuckles, “it was safer. for some reason.”

it makes you smile, "i wonder if those pabst cans are still hidden in all those hollow logs." you muse, a gentle smile splaying over your lips. richie huffs a small laugh at the memory of jorge garcia drunkenly stuffing the empty beer cans quickly into the log when the cops came.

a car pulls into the vacant lot behind you, and richie takes the liberty of driving away again, still not really sure where you're going.

the trees roll past, and soon you're passing through the downtown section of derry, causing the two of you to fall silent as your eyes flick up and down the nearly desloate streets. the aladdin passes by quickly and you remember going to see so many films with the others for less than five bucks a pop, richie slipping an arm around your shoulders and whispering in your ear about the weird worker who always gave you the eyes.

you smile lightly as your eyes fall to look ahead, passing the corner store. you remember how many times you and richie and stan stopped there after classes or during lunch to grab slushes while the workers weren’t looking. you remember the sticky fingers and bright blue tongues.

then as you stare more at the ugly front of the store, memories from middle school scratch the surface of your brain. "didn't the boys..." you say, perking up as you turn and watch it pass, richie looking at you attentively. "-eyes on the road, rich." you say absent-mindedly, "...didn't they... steal stuff from there? i can't remember why... it was for ben. tissues?" you ask, tilting your head. richie's brows furrow. "i had to stay outside with him, all i remember is bein' pissed i couldn't go in. dunno why, though." he mutters. you hum, sinking back in your seat.

"crazy, how quickly you forget your childhood." he says quietly.

the town slowly fades away before your eyes, and its just then that you realize you're going the opposite way from bill's. then it's plain grassland and marshes, dipping into the barrens. your lips twitch and the silence, while pleasant, makes you feel nervous.

you look to richie, all nervous slowly releasing from your body.

you feel stupid for thinking it, and you don't dare say it, but there's something really sweet about being in the middle of nowhere with him.

you feel like driving along this ugly, terrible road on the outskirts of a truly ugly and terrible town with someone as beautiful and captivating as richie is such an important moment; as if the roads along here are a place only you and richie share to yourselves.

"i kind of like taking the long way home with you." you let slip instead, instantly feeling hot and panicked as the words leave your mouth. "y-you know, because i just really didn't want to- er, i don't like being-"

as you stutter out some excuses, he leans forward towards the wheel, face turning to you with a smirk. "oh?" he asks. you feel flustered, your hands sweating and heart tingling as you stare at his handsome face.

"god, sorry." you say, feeling flushed, "i don't know why i keep rambling. it's so awkward."

"y/n, you could talk about anything." he says with a laugh, and you look at him, trying to ignore the sheer zoo of animals parading around in your stomach and instead escaping this moment with a sarcastic, "even dead squirrels?"

he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, his hair glinting in the light. "yeah, whatever baby. i just don't wanna be wasting my time alone when i could be here with you. that's what i'm trying to say."

and the stupid pet name almost makes you snort but you also get butterflies, the words that he's said making you smile so wide you're almost embarrassed. "yeah, well." you say bashfully, "i guess spending my time with you is, like... the best part of coming back home."

you avoid eye contact, staring out the window as you pass the house of your junior year bio partner. "hey," richie nudges your jaw and you almost jump at the feeling of his cold ring against the warmth of your skin. he speaks softly. "i'd never let you down, you know." he says, mischief in his eyes. you smile against his hand and look at him, his blue eyes warm and inviting and looking like home.

your eyes fall back towards the windshield and you see a sign up ahead. shifting, you look at richie again to find him still staring.

he's got such a terrible habit of watching you instead of the road (he has since high school), and that combined with his lead foot (also since high school - wentworth tozier was a menace on the streets) has you conditioned into reminding him of every obstacle that he may run into while driving.

"stop sign, richie." you mutter, knowing in his ramble he won't notice it (it happened way too many times as high schoolers). he seems to not really hear it, and you say again, "stop sign!"

just before it's too late, the car lurches as he slams the breaks and you just barely hit the white line, your hands bracing yourself against the dashboard. "oh my god." you hiss, shaking your head. richie's laughing.

"we've been hitting every red light. can't i just have one pass to not stop at one of these things?" richie says. you roll your eyes with a slight head shake. you can't believe him.

"you'll be the death of me, tozier." you mutter. richie's still laughing quietly and then he takes a big sigh, hand reaching out. you lean forward, hand reaching for the volume knob on the stereo just as richie does the same, and your hands brush by accident. you feel warm and instead of pulling away, his hand covers yours and he gently turns your hands, bringing up the volume of a green day song. it's seemingly just in the background as you watch your hand in richie's, then slowly turning your gaze up to his face.

he just stares at you as you stare back, wanting so badly to kiss him but wondering if he feels the same.

"hey." he whispers, quiet for the first time possibly ever. "hey." you respond softly, watching as he comes a bit closer. his hand is still in yours. "i am so happy to be home. with you." he says sincerely, his eyes wide and honest behind his glasses and his smile soft. your breath catches slightly and you smile, "me too. i always feel like this is the way it's supposed to be. u-us."

something in richie's eyes change, a light of sort, and then he's leaning into you and you're kissing.

his hand that isn't in yours falls to softly rub your thigh and you're taking a shuddering breath as your lips touch his. he tastes like mint chapstick and those stupid red-hots he was eating earlier, his lips slightly cold but his tongue warm as he slowly pulls you closer to him.

your mind almost falls blank as the world melts away, the only thing in your mind is how long you've missed out on this - richie is kind of unexpectedly a fantastic kisser. you pull him closer by his hair as his tongue grazes yours, his thumb tilting your jaw for a better angle.

but suddenly a horn honks loudly behind you and you both spring apart, your stomach panging with anxiety at the noise.

"shit." you hiss as you remember you're at a stop sign. richie snorts slightly, a smirk on his face despite the blush on his high cheekbones, feet going back to the gas pedal and clutch. his hand leaves your thigh as he drives forward and you clear your throat as the car turns behind you at the intersection, leaving you two back in the middle of nowhere with just you two.

it's tense for a few minutes, neither of you two really talking and you can tell the tension is going to kill richie, his hand twitching on the shift and his leg bouncing.

you break the silence after a couple more moments, "did you want to pull over-" "-yes." he says quickly, car almost swerving as he pulls off the road near the quarry. you laugh and grip the handle of the car as you slide to a stop and he laughs too, the feeling of glee unmatchable.

you both unclick your seatbelts after gaining a few breaths, and then you're leaning over the console to kiss richie hard enough on the lips that he falls back towards the window. he holds your face with his hands and he laughs a bit into the kiss, teeth grazing your bottom lip before tugging it. "goddamn, you're eager." he mutters into your mouth.

you smirk, pulling back. "fine, i don't have to kiss you. we have to be at bill's soon, anyways." you say, feigning a fake dismissive voice.

"wait, no, no. we've still got 20 minutes." richie defends after glancing at the stereo on the dash. his eyebrows raising in a plea. you giggle, leaning towards him and bringing your arm over. he's beaming as your face nears his and he moves to kiss you but you turn your head, instead letting his lips graze your neck as you lean to turn off the headlights.

"tease." richie mutters hotly against the skin of your neck before biting down softly, kissing over the skin. "i thought you said i was eager?" you say with a teasing smile. he hums, "y'know, it's pretty unfair to be teasin' me, toots. i've been eager to kiss you since we were seventeen." he says, and you can't help but smile, pulling him in to a kiss as his hands slide up your thighs and yours tangle in his messy curls.

you pull away slightly, "you want to get in the backseat?"

taglist: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @trashedfortozier @daughter-of-the-stars11 @oceandog13 @chl0bee @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @screammin @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters @five-motherfucking-hargreeves @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter

#richie tozier x reader #losers x reader #losers club x reader #bill denbrough x reader #stanley uris x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #beverly marsh x reader #mike hanlon x reader #ben hanscom x reader

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cottoncandyjester · 3 years

Note

Your blog is an absolute delight to browse through <33333

I adore your OCs. They all have their individual quirks and seeing you write them is a treat.

If you are accepting requests, I was wondering if you could do some reverse comfort for your OCs? Where they're not having a good day and their s/o comforts them.

I love yandere content but I am still a sucker for that good wholesome stuff :).

I absolutely love this

Also Was unsure if I should add salem in this cause a lot of people sent hate about him since i Introduced him cause he's disgusting but i did add him cause I love him and he needs love and support

Story contains: some angst, talk of self harm, fluffy fluff, soft boys

Theodore

You've never seen theo angry ever since you two got together but today he seemed to be stressed out, he was studying for a test and from the sounds of it he was going crazy. You walked towards the room only to hear a loud crash which made you jump and you rushed in

Theo had thrown his glasses across the room now sitting in the chair with his head in his hands a shaky sigh escaping him.

"im never going to get it, damn it.."

You looked at the papers scattered about and it looked like some intense stuff, you walked towards theo and hugged him from behind.

"take a break.."

Theo chuckled lightly before he leaned back looking in your eyes, it was clear he hasn't slept in a while.

"you know i can't do that angel, you get to bed though it's late"

You moved onto theo's lap which he allowed, he shivered lightly at the stern look in your eyes since he never seen you look this serious. He tried to settle your worries by giving you soft kisses on your neck but it seems you weren't easy to sway.

"theodore, I want you to get into bed with me and sleep right now."

The male sighed and looked at the clock on the study desk seeing it was about 2am, he did want sleep but he was far too worried about not passing to even think about it.

"sweetie, I have to study. How will I be a good husband if I don't finish college?"

"who says you arent already a good husband?"

Your words shocked him and he stared at you with a confused look before you lovingly wrap your arms around his neck and planting a soft kiss onto his lips.

"you're perfect theo, you don't have to constantly prove it okay? Don't ever doubt that."

Theodore was silent after that and he buried his face in your neck with a low hum, he truly didn't deserve you.

"you think I'm perfect?"

"of course I do, I love you so come and get some rest"

Theo decided to give in and lay down with you and for some reason when he did all those worries drifted away.

Hikaru

Hikaru didnt have time feeling sad, he was a model not to mention a public figure. He never lets you see that side of him unless it's to lash out at you but he onky does that in anger. Today was different, he was quiet today which Definitely wasn't like him

"hey, [y/n]?"

You looked up from your phone to look at the male who just got out the shower his hair still damp and he only wore sweatpants

"what's wrong? Want me to dry your hair again? You should put on a shirt before you get sick"

Hikaru said nothing and simply walked towards you and hugged you close making you both fall back on the bed, the shocked you and you started to pat hikaru on the back trying to get him off.

"h-hey! Are you okay? Are you sick?! Hikaru?!"

"I'm..sorry I'm really sorry, [y/n] dont leave cause I'm really sorry"

He was making zero sense and it only concerned you more but you heard sniffling which made you now freaked out so you softly pulled him back seeing tears rolling down his face.

"hey, why are you crying? What's wrong hikaru?"

The male sat up now sittinf on his knees and he kept his head down letting his hair cover his face as he tried to stop crying.

"I know you dont really love me, I'm mean and cold and awful. You want to leave don't you? But- but I don't want you to go! Im sorry I don't know how to love you i just don't know!"

Hikaru sounded an absolute mess and you didn't know where this was coming from but he simply out the male close into a hug letting him nuzzle his face into your chest as you played with his slightly damp hair.

"yeah, you are mean and cold..but I love you. You can be so sweet and really fun to be with, hikaru Im not going to leave no matter what"

"r-really? No matter what?"

"of course! After all without you my sense of style would be a mess!"

You heard a muffled chuckle escaping him as he hugged you tightly now resting his head on your chest

"you're an idiot."

With a cocky grin you poked his cheek earning a hushed whine of discomfort from you which you found adorable

"but I'm your idiot, so you're stuck with me!"

Axis

Axis is the type where he will tell you when he's sad, he's a crybaby so he will absolutely let you know when he needs comfort. So when the male popped up while you were thinking about what to do for dinner you figured he was feeling down

"what's wrong ax?"

"artblock..I have to come up with a new piece but i have nothing"

You gave a small hum before stopping and turned around wrapping your arms around him.

"well, how about we go on a date tonight we can go out to eat and do a bunch of fun stuff.."

"like fireworks?!"

You sighed loudly at your boyfriend's obsession with fireworks and decided to please him and his wishes

"we can get sparklers and small stuff okay?"

Axis smiled brightly and kissed your cheek over and over.

"date night date night!"

He started chanting like a child and you couldn't help but laugh at his antics but you were glad he wasn't sad anymore.

Prince

Prince hides his insecurities very well with flirting and smooth words, he likes you to think that he's all okay. you noticed he was far more clumsy today with things, it went from simply dropping things to full on tripping and falling.

Prince winced as he tripped and fell ontop of you earning an annoyed huff from you as you glared up at him for of his weird behavior that he brushes aside like its nothing

"prince what the hell is going on? You're being weird today"

Prince looked down at you before letting out a loud groan before nuzzling his face into your neck feeling quite embarrassed

"I'm scared..of our future"

"why would that scare you?"

Prince picked his head up and had a slight pout before he glanced away being unsure of how to put his words together.

"you're my first real serious relationship..what if I screw up?"

"oh princey.."

Your soft cooing made him even more embarrassed and he groaned while laying his face in your chest.

"you're amazing and great and I'm just..me!"

You simply messed with his hair finding his remark to be pretty dumb but you excused it cause he looked far too cute when pouty.

"prince, I love you forever and ever you aren't going to screw it up"

After a few minutes of silence he popped up and hopped to his feet with newfound energy

"you're right! I mean I'm pretty great! I bet you wanna marry me cause I'm so handsome!"

Well he was definitely back to normal

Yuki

It honestly took you weeks to figure out yuki was upset cause he is the master of hiding his emotions. He never shows many emotions besides a smile when around you or a glare when around strangers.

of course he doesn't talk about his feelings at all either so you are blissfully unaware of how he feels, until he slipped up and finally broke.

You had come home from shopping when you noticed how quiet the house was which was normal but it had an eerie feeling to it.

"is he taking a nap? Hmm.."

You went to the room and opened the door to see yuki curled up in the bed, the light were off and he was pretty quiet so you assumed he was sleeping but as you started to get ready for a shower when a muffled sniffle made you turn back to yuki and you walked to him before softly moving the blankets only to get a slight sight of tears before he buried himself deeper into the pillow to hide.

"y-yuki?"

"go."

You sat on the bed now fully invested in helping him but you had a feeling you knew what was wrong, you softly rubbed his back seeing that he was sweaty and slightly shaking.

"you have a nightmare?"

There was silence before he nodded and you simply laid next to him facing his back and softly touching his back your gentle touch being enough to cheer him up.

When he turned to face you his eyes were puffy yet had bags under them, his hair was a mess and he was breathing harshly from fear.

"wanna talk about i-"

"no."

You gave a sigh and simply cuddled against him and closed your eyes, his body stiffened but quickly relaxed before he held you close and closed his eyes

"just rest then. I'm here now okay?"

"mhm.."

Yuki smiled as he buried his face in your hair taking in your scent and feeling his body settle against yours. He didn't need words of comfort or huge signs of affection this was all he needed..you being here helped him far more than any words can.

Salem

When salem breaks down it's heartbreaking and intense, he gets into these PTSD triggered panic attacks to the point where he just loses it.

You had left the house and left him alone, it was only for a few hours but when you came back the bedroom was trashed and salem was freaking out curled up in the corner.

"b-bad boy, very bad super bad..I've been so bad I'm so sorry sorry sorry sorry"

"salem!"

You rushed to him and sat on your knees infront of him seeing fresh bruises and marks on his face, he probably hurt himself again.

"salem, baby look at me"

"b-bad boy..bad boys deserve death"

He was definitely not listening and you totally needed to snap him out of it so you did the one thing you could think of...you slapped him.

It wasn't too hard but he definitely looked up at you in shock now focused on what you had to say.

"you're not in that dark place anymore salem, you're here with me and no one is dying okay?"

"b-but I'm a sinner, I'm disgusting, revolting, i-"

You cut him off by selling your lips against his roughly kissing him and settling him down.

When you pulled back you gave him a stern gaze not letting him spill anymore degrading words out.

"listen to me salem. I love you and all your weird quirks! I don't care what anyone else says you're my boyfriend and I love you more than anything okay?"

"y-your lips t-taste like sugar.."

With that he leaned forward trailing his tongue over your lips with a shaky laugh

"thank you, [y/n]"

#yandere imagines #yandere ocs #ocs #oc imagines #tw salem

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tlou2holland · 4 years

Text

Joel x reader (pt3)

Summary: you and Joel have a chat and it gets a little steamy

warnings: cursing and a tiny little bit of smut (maybe??)

you can read the previous parts here: Pt 1. Pt 2.

A couple of days have passed, and to your disappointment, Joel didn’t show up again to check on you. Instead, he didn’t show up at all, nor to his duties or small gatherings in the evening. You’re too scared to ask anyone about his whereabouts, not wanting your secret to come out, but not seeing Joel for days takes a bigger toll on you than you’d like to admit. So here you are, all grumpy on the usual Saturday-dance, declining anyones offers to dance with you. “What got you so quiet, hmm?“ Dina appears next to you, casually leaning against the bar while you watch the people around you sway to the music. “Just the aftermath of my cold, I guess.“ You sip on your drink and briefly glance over to her. Her hair is all messy and a thin layer of sweat covers her forehead and neck. She looks happy, and beams at you with her freckled face. “Come on, that’s a lame excuse. Is it because of Joel?“ Dina wiggles her thick eyebrows and you slam your glass on the counter, a little harder than intended. “What?“ You look at her, eyes flickering back and forth between her eyes and little smirk. “You like him, don’t you?“ She brushes a strand of hair out of her face and you frown. “Is it that obvious?“ Your stomach starts cramping in an uncomfortable way and you cross your arms. “No, well, kinda. I mean,I see how you look at him. You don´t even care for the other boys here.“ She giggles and you scoff. “Who else is here to care about. Jesse?“ You raise an eyebrow and Dina shakes her head. “Marcus fancies you, you know?“ Dina picks up your glass and takes a sip, cringing at the bitter taste. “Marcus?“ You look around, finding the blonde haired bloke sipping on his beer, talking to Jesse and Seth. “He asks you to dance with him every week, and you always say no!“ Dina hands you your glass and you rest it against your chest, watching Marcus from afar. He´s good looking, with blue eyes and plump lips. He is a little taller than Joel but not as muscular, still fit enough to flex with his muscles from time to time. You sigh and turn to Dina, distress written all over your face. “But I don’t want him, he looks way too young.“ You try to reason, but Dina is not having it. “He´s your age, Y/N. You simply have a thing for older men.“ With that, she grabs your hand and starts pulling you towards the center of the room. “You gonna say no to me, too?“ She moves her shoulders to the beat and forces you to do the same, not letting go of your hand and pulling it towards her from time to time. You chuckle and look at her, a small smile making its way onto your face. “I can´t say no to you.“ With that you start to let loose, and actually have some fun. Ellie joins you two, and you watch with a big grin as she makes a move on Dina. Soon, they dance arm in arm, hands clasped around each others necks and faces dangerously close. You decide to give them some privacy and make your way to the corner, just to escape the heated room. You breathe in the cold night air and exhale, watching your breath fan like a cloud before you. You close the buttons of your blouse and sit on the porch, resting your feet on the steps beneath you. “I see I´m not the only one who wanted to escape for a bit.“ A warm voice says behind you. You turn your head to see Marcus shyly smiling at you. You return the smile and nod. “It´s quite loud in there.“ You rest your arms on your knees and feel Marcus sit down next to you, the smell of lavender soap filling your nostrils. “I´ts nice out here.“ Markus takes a deep breath and looks at you, eyes glossy and cheeks tinted pink. You smell alcohol as he exhales, and look forward. It’s dark and empty on the streets of Jackson, laughter and music coming from inside. “How have you been? Didn´t see you much around these days.“ Marcus tries to strike up a conversation with you, and you sigh. “Can´t complain. Just had a cold, that’s all.“ You press your lips together and Marcus eyes widen. “Why didn’t you tell me! I would have kept you company.“ He bumps his shoulder into yours and you rub the spot with a small smile. “That´s kind, but I wouldn’t want you to get sick.“ With that you get up, not comfortable with how close he’s getting, and turn around one last time. “I´m heading home, see you around.“ You wave at him and wander off, not seeing the disappointed look on his face. You silently curse under your breath, why did Dina have to tell you that Marcus likes you? You would have preferred not to know. You hug your body as you walk over the graveyard, chills erupting along your spine. After all the deaths you’ve witnessed, and brought along others, you still don’t feel comfortable with death. Your own father lays here, and the thought saddens you. He would have liked the life in Jackson, of that you were sure. But he got infected shortly before you made it here, and shot himself to prevent loosing his mind. Tommy and Jesse were the ones to help you carry his body into the camp and carve his tombstone. Joel and Ellie showed you around, taking you in and looking after you while you were still adjusting to your new life and making friends. Maybe that’s why you feel so strongly for Joel, and connect the most with Ellie. Joel, you wonder how he’s holding up. You could stop by his house and pay him a short visit, just to see if he’s alright. If he doesn’t want to see you, you can still go home and hate yourself for ever going. But at least you’d know he´s fine. Mind made up, you turn right instead of taking your usual path home. Joels house isn’t all too far away, and you feel your heartbeat speeding up as you leave another row of houses behind you. Maybe he´s already asleep, you think. But when you make it to his driveway and hear the strumming of his guitar, you know he´s not. Fixing your hair and blouse with your trembling hands, you breathe in and walk towards his porch. There he is, sitting beneath the faint lightning of his lamp, dressed in Jeans and a light brown jacket. He has his head down, pulling on the strings with his long fingers. You listen to the melody he´s playing, and bite your lip when he starts humming a song you don’t recognize. Coming out of the shadow, you clear your throat and make him look up, music dying in an instant. “Hi.“ You say breathless, voice soft and sweet. Joel puts his guitar down and blushes, scratching his neck. „Hi.“ He says back, eyes finally meeting yours. “You heard me sing?“ He asks, hand pointing to his guitar. You just nod and slowly make your way up the steps, dry wood creaking beneath your feet. “Yeah, I didn’t know you could sing.“ You dig your hands into the pockets of your jeans, and Joel watches how your blouse flatters in the wind. “It´s not singing, but I’m glad you didn’t laugh.“ Joel chuckles and you exhale audibly, nerves slowly calming down. He´s not sending me home. “How are you?“ You ask, head tilting slightly to the side. Joel gets up and slowly walks over to you, resting his body against the railing. From this angle he looks younger than usual, and you can´t help it but stare at him. “I uh, did a lot of thinking the past days. Given the time I had due to my cold.“ Joel looks at you with soft eyes and you almost gasp, finding yourself trapped in his gaze. “I got you sick?“ You whisper, feeling guilty. Joel breaks eye contact and turns around to rest his hands on the railing. His face half hidden by shadows, you can´t see his wrinkles and scars, nor the grey hair. He looks handsome, and you wonder what Joel looked like when he actually was your age. Not that he´s not handsome now, the grey hair and scars suit him, but a girl can wonder. “Looks like it. It’s been years since I’ve been this knocked out.“ Joels finger twitch and you watch him caress the wood with his fingertips. “I´m so sorry, I hope you feel better now.“ You start picking on some chapped pieces on the railing, and lower your gaze. “I´m as good as new. You feel better, too?“ Joel looks over to you and you blush under his intense glimpse. “Yeah. As good as new.“ You laugh slightly and Joels lips form into a smile, eyes staring ahead. “What have you been thinking about?“ You ask after some minutes of silence, dying to hear his voice again. “You.“ He states, making you cough in surprise. “Me?“ You ask in disbelief, insecurity tying your stomach in knots again. “It´s just-“ Joel turns his body towards you and you suppress the urge to brush some hair out of his pretty face. “It's been a while since I’ve been with someone. Actually, its been so long, I didn’t even think about it for years.“ Joel briefly looks into your eyes before continuing, mouth opening and closing once. “I don´t know what happened that I’m suddenly thinking about it. Being with someone, I mean.“ Joel shrugs and you reach out, carefully touching his face and brushing your thumb over his temple. “I don´t know how you feel about me, but I know that I like you.“ You confess, hand still resting against his cheek. He doesn’t pull away, so you take it as a good sign and continue. “but I don’t know where this is going, and it scares me.“ You whisper the last part, heart beating painfully inside your chest. He can crush your heart if he wants to, you just gave it to him, a man you’ve known for almost four years. Joel just looks at your face and deep wrinkles form on his forehead, a grumble erupting from his throat. “We can find out.“ He whispers back, voice shaking slightly but still sounding gruff. He grabs your wrist and rests his thumb on your pulse, leaning into your hand. His stubble tickles your palm and you can feel the little hairs bending beneath your hand as you run it along his jaw, taking in every small detail of his face. “I really like you.“ You mumble, entranced by his eyes that almost appear black due to the lack of light. “I really like you, too.“ Joel slides his hand over the railing so your fingers touch, and covers your fingertips with his own. They feel warm and rough, a nice contrast to your cold and soft ones. “Do you want to come inside, have a coffee with me?“ Joel looks at your intertwined fingers and your stomach does a flip. “You have coffee? Where did you get that?“ Your mouth pulled into a half smile, Joel pushes himself away from the railing and lets his hand slide from yours. He grabs his guitar and opens his door, waiting for you to step inside. “The people that came here last week-“He starts while you slip past him, shoulder brushing his chest. “They had some coffee with them. I´m kinda embarrassed what I had to give them in exchange, but it’s not too bad.“ He closes the door and peels of his jacket, hanging it onto a hanger on the wall, guitar resting next to it. You try not to look around too much, and wring your hands together instead, waiting for him to guide you into the kitchen. “What did you trade?“ “I´m not telling you that.“ Joel laughs and you frown, but it disappears as soon as he touches your lower back. “This way.“ He gently pushes you forward and into his kitchen, slipping his arm around your waist and resting you against the counter. “Your house is nice.“ You say, growing hot under his touch. “Ellie helped me decorate it.“ Joel squeezes your hip before pulling away and boiling some water, back turned towards you. His shirt clings onto his bicep and stretches at the back, making it hard for you to look away. It’s been a while since you got close with a man, and to see Joel like that sure does things to you. You lick your lips and try to keep your thoughts innocent, but your mind and heart where drowning in Joel. It sounds pathetic, but he is all you could think about at the moment. “liking what you see?“Joel turns around and catches you staring, an amused smile on his lips. You feel like he purposefully flexes his bicep and you groan. “Stop being a tease.“ You look away, heart swelling at Joels laughter. “It´s nice to know I still got it in me.“ Joel says, making you furrow you brows. “Got what in you?“ You ask, hands cupping the counter behind you. “making woman weak in their knees.“ Joel lifts the kettle from the oven and fills two mugs with the boiling liquid. “Now you’re getting cocky.“ You joke, embarrassment vanishing at the playful atmosphere. “Oh yeah, so there’s no reason you’re holding onto that counter?“ Joel quickly traps you in place, knee bumping between your legs. Your hands automatically find their way to his chest and you wonder Do I now get to do this whenever I want?

“That was an awful pun.“ You shake your head, voice slowly getting stuck in your throat. “No pun intended.“ Joel mumbles, making nonsense but you don’t care anyways. What you care about are his strong hands on your hip, lifting you on the counter until he stands in between your legs. The Mable is cold beneath your bum and you jump forward slightly, wrapping your legs around Joels hip. Your fronts press together and his breath mingles with your own, lips almost touching. “You drive me mad.“ Joel´s lip ghosts your cupids bow and you tilt your head back to feel his lips on yours. “makes two of us.“ With that, you wrap your arms around his neck and burry your hand into his thick hair, pulling on the greying strands. Your legs hooked behind his hip, you push your heels into his lower back and inch him even closer. You can feel his arms tense as they wrap around your middle and eagerly pull on your blouse, revealing your soft flesh. “Arm´s up.“ You mumble, mimicking Joels actions and pulling on his shirt while your tongues dance together. He obliges and lifts his arms, shirt flying somewhere near the living room. You wish you could take some time and just look at him, take everything in, but there’s no time as his mouth is already attacking yours again with hot kisses. All the small grunts you emit from him sound like honey in your ears, and you grind against him, cheeks burning up. “Your turn.“ Joel groans, impatiently toying with the buttons on your blouse until he has them all open and slides the fabric of your shoulder. There you are, sitting only in jeans and your bra, chest rising and falling rapidly. “You´re so pretty.“ Joel kisses you again and works his fingers on your bra, slowly trying to unhook it. He gets stuck with the last bit and you help him, a giggle escaping your lips. Joel laughs and leans his forehead against yours. “I told you its been a while.“ He runs his thumb along your breast and you shiver, arching into him. “It´s been a while for me, too.“ Your hand slowly creeps towards the center of his jeans, sneakily slipping between your two bodies and opening the front. Joel sighs heavily and hides his face in your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin. You feel him grow in your palm and the heat in your core gets unbearable, so you rub yourself against his thigh in need for some release. “Let me touch-“ The slamming of the front door cuts through Joels words and you pull your hands out of his jeans, immediately going to cover up yourself. Joel looks around confused and shields you with his body, trying to make out the source of the noise. “Joel? Are you there I- Oh shit!“ Tommy walks in and covers his eyes when he sees you, half naked on the counter. He turns around and stifles a laugh, hand wiping under his nose while he rocks back and forth on his heels. “I guess you need that.“ He bends forward and throws Joels shirt at you, another laugh slipping past his lips. “Take it.“ Joel softly pulls it over your head and you slip your arms trough, eyes scanning the floor for your blouse but you can´t find it. Joel crosses his arms in front of his chest and leans against the counter, an annoyed expression on his face. “This is so embarrassing.“ You whisper, hiding your face behind your hands and slipping away from Joel, toes touching the ground again. “Tommy?“ Joel growls impatiently, mad at his brother for ruining the moment. “Can I turn around without seeing something I shouldn’t see?“ Tommy cranes his neck and you rub your temple. “Oh my god.“ You fix your hair and Joel seems uncomfortable as well, torso exposed to the air that suddenly doesn’t feel so hot anymore. “Joel and Y/N, what a surprise.“ Tommys voice drips with sarcasm and you groan, wishing for the earth to swallow you. “What do you want, Tommy?“ Joel gives you an apologetic look and Tommy hides his hands in his pockets. “I wanted to talk with you about furthering securing the gates, but I see you’re busy.“ He looks over to you and casually waves, finding your embarrassment more than amusing. “That´s alright, I was about to, ehm.“ You cough and search for your bra, without success. “Looking for this?“ Tommy points to his left and you nod, rushing to collect your bra. “I was about to leave, anyways.“ You finish, cringing at your own lie. With the piece of lace in your hands and Joels shirt around your body, you storm out of the door without looking back. Could it have gone any worse?

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller series #joel miller x oc #tlou pt 2 #tlou2 fanfic #tlou2 icons #tlou icons #tlou2 #tlou #tlou joel #tlou2 dina #tlou2 art

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fragmentedink-archived · 3 years

Text

Hell to Pay: Chapter Fifty-Two

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX, XLX, LI

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: Hey everybody!!! It’s been a hot minute. We’ve been busy lately between work and life and all that fun stuff but here’s a new chapter <3

A/N: So we’re changing a lil bit up, and adding more characters, specifically the gods as we’ve been doing more world building lately. These Gods are also from my own WIP, but have also found their way here!

“I just don’t understand why you need specific wood from a specific place for the crib,” Lev muttered, splashing the water with his foot as he watched Nik paddle around. Nik still wore a large shirt even in the pool, as if Lev and Cameron didn’t know he was pregnant.

"Well, Lev," Nik said. "Not all of us are okay with using hand-me-downs from four hundred years ago. Some of us like new shiny things for new shiny parasites- I say with love- and besides, its native to Tullum. It's home; at least as close to home as I'll likely get."

Lev huffed. “I didn’t mean that you had to get hand-me-downs, if you don’t want to. But I figured asking for wood specific to a region of angel territory when neither of us can go to retrieve it... It’s just a big fuss to make, I guess.” He braced his hands on the side of the pool, leaning forward a bit. “I don’t- Cameron had lots of very pretty options, is all, I guess.”

Nik arched a brow, eyeing him dryly. "And where, exactly, do you think some of those woods come from, Levant?"

Lev hesitated. “I assumed demonic territory?” he finally said, very unsure of the answer now.

Nik splashed Lev with enough force Lev was drenched, spluttering. Before he could think of how to respond, Cameron popped Lev gently on the back of his head. Lev hadn’t even noticed Cameron approach.

As Lev looked up, Cameron simply said, “Come inside. Biela requires your presence. Both of you.”

Lev stood, looking back to Nik, who was hauling himself out of the pool. Since Nik had already soaked him, Lev tucked himself against Nik’s side as they went inside.

Biela was standing in the kitchen. Without looking at them, she simply said, “Take a seat.”

Lev peeled away and settled in a chair, but Nik folded his arms over his stomach, which was beginning to show by that point, and said, "And why should-"

Cameron sliced Nik a look. "Nikolas, sit the fuck down."

At those cold words, Nik promptly sat on the nearest stool without another word.

Lev reached for Nik’s hand. Something told him he would not like whatever Biela had to say. Nik’s fingers tightened around his briefly as they waited for Biela to speak.

Biela fixed her dark gaze on Nik first. “I’m assuming you are keeping the fetus.”

It wasn’t a brief squeeze this time. “Why?” Nik asked sharply.

“Nik,” Lev said softly.

Biela held up a hand in Lev’s direction. “Because I'm also assuming you'd want to know the magic used to bring your boyfriend back from the dead poisoned my lands and is killing countless children. That's why."

Cold washed over Lev, colder than the death that he knew still tugged at his bones. “What?” he blurted, barely a whisper.

"You," Biela said, squarely looking Lev in the eye, "And your cousin and that witch played with forces beyond your control and decided to poison my lands with your greed because you just couldn't leave death well enough alone. I figured since your mate is currently pregnant, that you might want to know what is happening to the infants being born. Much like Nik's infant soon enough."

Lev risked swinging his attention to Cameron, eyes wide. He knew he was digging his nails into Nik’s hand as he searched Cameron’s expression, but for the most part it was unreadable, the usual shrouded calculation flickering in his eyes. Lev looked back to Biela after a moment.

“I didn’t know,” he finally said, voice small.

“Clearly not. You seem to know nothing.”

“I’m sorry,” Lev said, finally shifting his attention to Nik. “I’m sorry.”

The blood had drained from Nik’s face. “You’re lying,” he said, the words a harsh counterpoint to Lev’s whispered apology.

"And why would I lie about such a thing?"

"Because you despise me, and you loathe Lev and want any excuse to put Lev back in the ground."

Biela’s mouth curled in a non-smile. "If I was going to put your precious Lev back where he belonged, I'd do so without needing such a cruel lie. I'd just do it."

Lev tugged on Nik’s hand. “Nik,” he said, a warning in his tone this time. “She’s right.”

Tears of anger welled in Nik's eyes. "This is bullshit. This is absolute bullshit. I just decided to keep the thing. Now you're telling me it'll die anyways?"

Greif coiled alongside the fear and guilt. “You didn’t have to tell us,” Lev said to Biela. “Thank you,” he added, before tugging at Nik again. “We’ll figure it out, Nik. You- you could stay with Nate, couldn’t you?”

Nik's mouth pressed into a thin line. "But this is my home," he said, voice breaking.

Steadily, Biela said, "Not every child has been born dead or scarred. Perhaps your blood will… protect it in some way. Healing it."

Lev pressed his face to Nik’s shoulder. “You should talk to Ash. Or Sazra. Both of them.”

Nik stood abruptly. “I’m going to bed,” he muttered, as if it wasn’t midafternoon. Lev watched him go in silence, his heart aching.

Only once he was gone did Lev look back to Biela. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Is there anything I can do?” He meant it, knew she’d read that in his mind, and hoped it meant... something. Though he doubted it did.

Biela leaned against her palms, black hair slipping over her shoulder. "What do you think you can do? You and your cousin offer your pretty apologies while countless are dead like a few well placed 'sorries' will give parents their young once more. I highly doubt putting you back where you belong would solve it, and as I promised your cousin, I wouldn't. You will live with your actions and you will think about how this has affected my kingdom. And you will think about how my mercy has been the only thing keeping you with a home. Not even your own people want you. And now, you're a mass murderer to my people. That is what you can do."

Her words hurt, as they were meant to, he was sure, but he heard no untruth. “I would never assume that an apology would fix anything,” he promised carefully. “I will never forget the cost; I promise. But-” He hesitated. “I know most demons don’t appreciate an angels healing. I have the magic to spare, if it is ever useful. I understand that- it’s not- it’s all I can offer.”

Biela arched a brow. "I'll keep it in mind. If there's something to make you useful, I'll look into it. It's the least you can do."

“It is,” Lev agreed, grief leaking into his tone despite himself. “Thank you,” he added again, before lowering his gaze to the ground. Any more, he thought, and he might say too much.

"And you're not even crying," Biela noted. "An improvement." She straightened, readying to leave. "I'll return for our check up. I expect you to behave in the meantime."

On her way out, Cameron dipped his head in a reverent bow.

Lev waited until her footsteps faded before he looked to Cameron. “What are we going to do?” he asked.

All Cameron said was, "Survive."

-----

After nearly a week of Amara seemingly dodging every appointment Ash tried setting up with her, Ash decidedly went to see Nik so he didn't hunt her down and wring her neck. It seemed like the better alternative.

It was Lev who answered the door. Hesitantly, Lev asked, "Am I allowed to talk to you?"

"Well," Ash said, looking over Lev’s head, "if you weren't, you'd be a little too late now. Where's Nik?"

Lev flushed, cheeks going a blotchy gold. “In bed,” he said, sounding sad. “I’m assuming you heard, then.”

Ash blinked. "Heard what? I just needed to check on him. Did something happen to Nik?" He asked, shouldering his way past Lev. "Is he alright?"

“Oh.” Lev seemed to hesitate. “Fine. Nik is. I think. I mean, he is, but-” His voice got smaller and smaller. “Whatever Cyrus did to bring me back- the magic- infants are dying. Not making it to birth. Biela told us a few days ago. I assumed that’s why you were here. I thought Nik had taken my advice.”

At that Ash halted in place and whirled on him, face leeched white with horror and rage. "Wanna run that by me again?"

Lev flinched away. “The magic poisoned the lands,” he whispered. “The children are dying because I came back."

"I-." Ash inhaled sharply. "I told you. I told every single one of you not to do it. I hope you're fucking happy with yourself," he snapped, jabbing him in the chest. "None of you selfish assholes would listen to me and children are dead for it." Ash whirled back around and stormed his way to Nik's bedroom. "And now I need to make sure another one doesn't die because of everyone's bad choices."

Nik jolted up when Ash burned the door in place to stalk inside. He didn't give Nik a moment to speak before he started doing what he did best. "Have you been keeping everything down? Any fevers or anything beyond the usual normal pregnancy stuff?"

Nik blinked blankly at him. "How the hell am I supposed to know? Because I'm an omega? I-"

"My mistake," Ash said. "I shouldn't have asked you. Lev, has everything been normal with Niks pregnancy so far?"

Lev hovered in the charred doorway. “Other than morning sickness that Cameron and I have been keeping an eye on, everything seems fine. I didn’t think to ask Biela how the- what was happening to the parents. I was- it was a shock.”

"Oh I'm sure," he said, shortly. He turned his full focus back on Nik. "Is there any way I can convince you to come home at least until the baby is born?" When Nik shook his head, Ash sighed. "Right. Well, at least meet me for appointments every few days in Liwen. That way you get exposure outside of Demonic Lands as well as getting a better look in my office?"

Nik sat up on his elbow and watched him warily. “Papi doesn’t want me coming home, Ash.”

Ash rolled his eyes and eyed the bruising still fading from Nik’s neck. “Hm. Well. I don’t think your father is going to get to say much of anything when I hold just as much, if not more power and sway than he does. Besides, you’re not stepping foot anywhere near him, especially when you’re pregnant. I’m sure Nate would have my head. Or at the very least try.”

Nik didn’t so much as crack a smile. “I don’t want to go home.”

Ash sighed loudly. “Alright, fine then.” When Lev tried scooting his way past to Nik, Ash shoved his face away. “Move it, I’m dealing with my patient, Lev.” When Lev huffed Ash looked pointedly at him. “If that’s too much to ask,” he suggested, “then perhaps you can see yourself outside while we talk.”

Lev’s only response was making a face. “I think I’m going to go see what Cameron’s making for dinner.”

When Lev left, Ash turned his sole focus back to Nik who was still looking rather tired. “You gotta let me help,” he said. “We both know I’m the best you’re going to get when it comes to your health.”

“Dunno. Sazra seems to know plenty.”

“Sazra hasn’t seen the light of day in well over a thousand years. That,” he said, “and from what you’ve told me, Sazra also wants to string you up by your balls. Your physiology is different from demons and as great as a healer I’m sure she is, I am your healer and I’m not trusting a demon to take care of you when I’ve known you for the last nineteen years.”

Nik waved him off. “Figure it out, Ash. I don’t want to leave.”

“Because of Lev?” Ash asked, pointedly.

“And if it is?” Nik shot back.

“Then you’re making stupid choices for your baby.”

Nik almost looked like Ash hit him. Ash tried to reel back from that very poor choice of words, but even if he was successful at it, he still didn’t regret them. It was the truth especially when there were millions of infants dead because Ash didn’t stop Amara or Cyrus and now Nik was in the line of fire for his own inactions. “Look,” Ash warned, “if you won’t come back then I’m moving in here and I will make everyone who lives in this house as miserable as physically possible.”

“Like Cameron would let you.“

Ash scoffed. “You think I’m afraid of Wonder Bread Cameron? I get what I want and what I currently want won’t come back with me.”

Nik’s brows shot up at that, but before he could say anything Lev came slinking his way back into the room. “Mami’s actually in charge of dinner tonight so Cameron’s in his office. He looks kinda grumpy.”

“Surprise of surprises, I’m sure,” Ash said. He looked back to Nik. “So what is it, you coming with me voluntarily or am I moving in here against all of your wills?” When Nik stared at him in stony silence, Ash took that as answer enough. He got up from the bed and shouldered his way past Lev.

----

Ash was still being cranky, and Nik was still in bed. Lev wasn’t stupid enough enough to bother Cameron again, and so when he heard Eden waking up from her afternoon nap he decided to go pick her up before she upset the whole house with her fussing.

Even if he was supposed to be limiting how much he picked her up.

After some well placed smacks for not getting to her soon enough, Eden buried her face in his shoulder with a half-awake growl. Lev gave her a little bounce and settled in the rocking chair, toy in hand to offer her when she bothered to lift her head.

Only when several minutes had passed did Eden finish her little sniffle-growls and take the stuffed bear. Within seconds the ear was detached.

Lev sighed as he fished it out of her mouth. Eden took the chance to sink her little teeth into his finger, hard enough to draw blood. Before Lev could pull away, Eden gave a pleased shriek, little nails digging into his hand to keep him there. Despite the surprising amount of strength the toddler had, he managed to get free, in time for Ash to stick his head in the room, eyes glowing enough of a bright green that Lev was quite sure Ash was seeing just fine.

“I just can't seem to leave you alone for five minutes without you nearly getting killed by demons,” Ash grumbled.

Lev shrugged, catching Eden’s little hand before she could smack him again. “Hitting isn’t nice, bitty girl.”

She simply screeched in his face, and then thunked her forehead on his shoulder, giggling.

Lev looked up at Ash. “I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he said as Eden took her bear back and began the gruesome work of beheading it. “Well, I mean- I wasn’t sure how to because I wasn’t sure if we were allowed to talk, and then you needed to check on Nik, and-” He paused, blinking hard. “Rambling. Sorry. I’m trying to work on that. I remembered things, about when I was dead.” He pressed a kiss to Eden’s head to buy himself some time to order his thoughts, and then went on. “I met Nature. During that time I was hesitating. And they talked to me.”

“Oh? And you didn’t bother to tell me this sooner?”

Lev winced. From what he’d gathered from the conversation with Nature, the link between Ash and the god ran deeper than Lev had ever realized. Not that Lev had ever really paid attention to it. He’d never been particularly close to Nature himself; he was starting to regret not trying to forge a connection with the only god the angels had. Maybe his magic would have been easier to access, stronger even, if he had.

“I didn’t remember for a long time,” he finally said to Ash. “But I do now, so I’m telling you.”

It’d been an intense conversation, for sure. He could see a lot of Ash in Nature. Or maybe there was a lot of Nature in Ash. Lev wasn’t too sure how the mechanics of it worked. Nature had all but berated him for dragging his feet. Just from past experience they knew if the spell failed it’d have unimaginable consequences, and Lev now knew just how bad it could have been.

“I promised them I would be the last resurrection,” he told Ash. “And I said if that failed, that I’d help take some of the- the punishment you suffered. It’s not fair for you to be in that much pain on your own.”

“Ya think?” Ash snipped.

Lev took a small breath, and then replied calmly, “I really am sorry, Ash. It was the least I could do, I thought.”

Ash rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Tell me everything you talked about.”

“A lot of it was... kind of scolding. About trying to come back,” Lev admitted. “And telling me there were going to be consequences either way. They laid out exactly what you went through while not stopping us.” Lev cleared his throat. “I- that's when I offered. To help shoulder the pain.” After tucking his cheek against Edens hair, he held up a hand, weaving his shadows through his fingers with ease. “I think that might be why my magic is stronger. I was going to try to- to find more ways to connect with them, but I’ll have to wait until I can go back to angelic territory now, I think.”

“Why? There’s temples here.”

“Oh. I didn’t-” He stopped, frowned. “I don’t know much about demons and the gods-” He sighed this time. “I’m still on house arrest. I’m not allowed to leave until Biela deems me not a security risk.”

Ash lifted a brow. “Aren’t you in a relationship with a demon?”

“We’ve never had a conversation about religion, Ash,” Lev said with an even deeper frown. “I don’t think Cameron’s particularly religious. I guess I could ask him about the demonic gods. All I know is that they’re where demons get their magic, like we do from Nature.”

“They have a name, you know,” Ash said. Lev couldn’t figure out if he sounded irritated or tired. “It’s Asmi.”

Lev flushed. “I- I’m sorry,” he mumbled. He cleared his throat, and said more firmly, “No one really calls them by their name, but I should- I should have asked.”

“Probably,” Ash said drily. “And technically they’re not even the god of nature.”

Lev stood up, bouncing Eden on his hip. “They aren’t?” He asked. “That’s what we were taught in primary school, I’m sorry.”

“Primary school?” Ash said. If Lev didn’t know better, he was teasing him now. Crankily, sure, but still.

Rather than dignify that with an answer, Lev gave up and let a very wiggly Eden down to crawl around the nursery.

“Asmi is the god of balance,” Ash finally said. “They’re tied to the earth. Anything falls out of balance, and we’re all affected. That’s probably where the angels got nature from.”

“Makes sense why the teachers simplified it like that, I suppose,” Lev replied. “If it’s- if it’s not too much trouble, could you teach me more, whenever you get the chance?”

“Sure. Looks like I’m rooming with you for the foreseeable future anyway.”

“Thank you,” Lev said, smiling at Ash. He didn’t get one in return, but considering the amount of pain Ash had gone through in the past several months because of Lev, he didn’t blame Ash. Not one bit.

~~~

There was only so much of Nik’s day being spent in bed Lev could stand before he felt restless himself. Even taking care of Eden couldn’t shake his inherent need to be a busy body. So when it occurred to him that Nik had not yet actually celebrated his pregnancy, he decided it was high time something good be associated with Nik’s pregnancy.

After all, it was tradition.

Lev waited until Eden was down for her nap to corner Cameron and Ash in the kitchen. “I think Nik deserves a baby shower,” he said without preamble. “And I think we should throw him one.”

“Of course you do,” Cameron said, not even looking up from the meat he was searing in a skillet.

Lev looked expectantly at Ash, who just gave a shrug. “Might as well get him out of that foul mood of his.”

“He’s no reason to be happy about what’s going on,” Lev replied reasonably. When Ash narrowed his eyes at Lev, the lack of a glow to his green gaze letting Lev know he wasn’t actually able to see him right now, Lev was quick to add, “So I want to... give him some happier memories about this pregnancy. He’s so miserable right now and all he’s gotten is bad news. A party will cheer him up and maybe give him something to look forward to.”

“Are you suggesting he isn’t looking forward to the several horrendous hours of labor to push that fetus out?” Cameron asked, flicking a look Lev’s way.

Lev blinked. “Well. No, I doubt that. But. The after? Holding the baby? I don’t think he’s thought that far. He’s just stressed and worried.”

“That was sarcasm, Levant,” Ash pointed out.

“Oh.” Lev rubbed his nose. “Um. Well. I do think it’s a good idea.”

“Alright. Fine. I’m sure we can have something set up this weekend.”

“Thank you,” Lev said to Cameron, looking pleased. Up until he realized... “Who can we invite”?”

“Well, that is indeed the question, isn’t it?” Ash mused.

“Can Nate be invited?”

“I sure hope so, Nate practically raised him,” Ash said dryly.

Lev grimaced at him, knowing very well he couldn’t see it. “Yes, but- am I allowed to be there if he is?”

“I think it’ll be fine, especially if Bay is with him.”

After considering that, Lev gave a small nod. “Okay. Can I help plan for it, Cameron?”

“I suppose,” Cameron said.

Lev gave a small hum. “Ocean themed? To match the nursery?”

“Sure,” Cameron said, with the same amount of indifference as before.

This time Lev huffed at Cameron. “I’m going to go see if Mami wants to help,” he said, knowing it was a little petty.

“You do that,” Cameron said.

As Lev... well, even he could admit he was flouncing off a bit, Ash followed. Lev took that as a silent agreement to actually participate in the planning.

---

Darius found himself in Cyrus’ office with a mug of tea in front of him and Cyrus across from him with his own coffee. Even if Darius couldn’t drink the tea, he did appreciate the gesture. It would be nice to be able to drink tea once more.

“Why Cameron?” Cyrus asked, not in an accusatory way, but genuine curiosity.

“Why not Cameron?” Darius asked, splaying his brown fingers along the desk.

Cyrus gave a shrug as he continued to flip through his notes, coffee seemingly forgotten. “He’s not exactly the sort most people seem to be attached to. Outside yourself, Nikolas, and Levant, of course. Most others seem frightened more than anything.”

“I don’t see why,” Darius said. “Cameron’s never been frightening to me.”

“Perhaps it's the amount of people he��s tortured and killed,” Cyrus pointed out mildly. He looked up briefly. “I mean no offense, I simply want to understand.”

Darius thought on that, and he thought on the boy he had known when he was alive. And he thought on the hell that was unleashed upon Cameron once it was found that Darius had died at Cameron’s own hand. And then he said, “Perhaps. Though, I do not judge a person by their occupation. One could say Sorin has killed his own fair share of people, no?”

Cyrus looked over at Sorin, who was curled up as a cat on a pile of papers, orange tail twitching against his white flank as he dozed. “He did,” Cyrus agreed. “And he retired. But you made your point. I see where you’re coming from.” He looked back to Darius. “The war made a monster out of many people. But something tells me the war is not what happened to Cameron.”

“Just a different kind of war,” Darius sighed. He traced along one of his rings. “Have you come up with a solution that would not let Cameron die in the process?” Even if Darius was quite sure Cameron wouldn’t blink at the idea of giving his own life to right this particular wrong- even when the last five hundred years had Cameron’s story of survival written in betrayal and blood.

“I considered just... any life. But- that doesn’t seem a fair trade,” Cyrus sighed, running his own ringed fingers over his face. “I’m not willing to attempt the spell without certainty. The cost of failure is too high, and it’s your only chance.”

“Of course,” Darius said. “I do not take any of this lightly. I am very grateful to you, Cyrus.”

Cyrus gave a small smile, though his face was tired. “Don’t thank me,” he said. “Not until after I guarantee this will work.” He propped his chin in his hand. “It’s starting to look like there’s no way for me to be sure what is an acceptable trade, unless I speak with Nature themself.” Cyrus paused. “Which would be difficult, because I’ve never tried to form any sort of connection with Nature before. I didn’t get the education most witches do from their covens, and I was learning so much about the practical side that it slipped my mind.”

“Well,” Darius said, “I am sure there is no time like the present to get acquainted with your god.” Something Cameron, too, was unable to do. “Asmi seems… sturdy.”

Cyrus hummed. “Sturdy. Concrete. Something like that. I think.” He tapped his cheek. “I have no idea how to go about it, though.”

“I could reach out,” Darius offered. “Seeing as how I’m in the same realm as they are. And there’s less risk to you if I were to approach them first.”

Cyrus considered that. “That would... be very helpful, actually,” he mused. He leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “Though perhaps after I take a nap.”

Tagging: @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @lil-miss-red @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis @idreamonpaper

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #wip boost #hell to pay #original writing #ch: cameron #ch: darius #ch: nik #ch: biela

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starryknight09 · 3 years

Text

That’s not how Ironman goes out

Febuwhump Day 7: poisoning

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

Peter pulled his grey hoodie on, practically bouncing on his feet as he finished dressing. Today was going to be the best day. He was headed over to Ned’s this morning to work on the new Star Wars Lego set his friend had gotten for his birthday last week, and then he had plans to take MJ out to a new Mexican-Korean fusion restaurant she’d been talking about ever since it opened last month. They’d been together for almost three months now and he still loved seeing the look on her face whenever he surprised her.

“Peter can you come here for a minute?” Aunt May called from the living room.

“Yeah!” He answered, not thinking anything of it. He shoved his wallet in his back pocket and toed on his shoes, checking his phone for any messages before pocketing it as well.

He made a detour to the kitchen to grab an apple out of the bowl on the counter, enjoying the crunch of it as he took a huge bite before turning to find May sitting on the couch across the room.

“What’s up?” He asked, barely understandable, around a mouthful of apple.

“Come here.” May patted the couch cushion next to her. The oddness of the invitation made him stop and focus. He noticed a characteristic crinkling in the corner of May’s eyes, something she only did when she was worried and trying to hide it. It was an expression he’d seen more than a few times ever since she’d discovered his vigilante identity.

“What’s wrong?” He moved to stand in front of her.

“Sit down honey.”

“No, I’m good. I have to get going to Ned’s soon or I’m going to be late. I promised I’d be there by noon.” He said, checking his watch for show. The way May was acting made him want to escape. Made him afraid.

“I need you to sit down.” May patted the space next to her again.

He had the irrational urge to whine, ‘I don’t want to.’ To stamp his feet and refuse. Because no good news ever came from scenarios like this. But instead of refusing, he forced his knees to bend and hesitantly sat down next to his aunt.

May reached out to hold his hands. “Honey, I have to tell you something.”

His heart started racing. “May, you’re scaring me.”

“You know how Tony had that fundraiser last night?”

He nodded. Tony had invited him, but it was a stuffy black-tie event, which wasn’t really his thing, and Peter had already had a readymade excuse not to go. He’d made plans with MJ and hadn’t wanted to disappoint her by cancelling. Tony hadn’t minded because Peter was heading up to the cabin tomorrow to spend the weekend with him where there wouldn’t be a bunch of uptight old people milling around.

“Well,” May continued, “we’re not sure how it happened yet, but somehow someone managed to slip something into Tony’s drink.”

His stomach dropped out of his body. No.

“Is he dead?” His voice trembled, afraid to hear the answer. Afraid that the reason May had positioned him here was to deliver the news that his last remaining father figure was gone.

“No honey.” May reassured him and his eyes closed as he let out a sharp breath of relief. She squeezed his hands. “But he’s very sick, and they’re doing everything they can, but we just don’t know yet what’s going to happen.”

He bit his lower lip to keep it from quivering as tears welled up in his eyes. This couldn’t be happening.

“Why would someone do this?” He managed to choke out the question.

“Oh honey.” May tugged him forward into a hug. “I know. It doesn’t make any sense. They think it was someone from that ridiculous group.”

Peter clenched his jaw. He knew exactly what group she was talking about. After Tony had saved everyone, and almost died in the process, a group of zealots had become vocal about how reversing the snap had set back all the environmental progress Earth had made after losing half its population. They hated Tony for what he’d done. They believed life had been better before the reversal because the human race was no longer multiplying at a rate that the Earth couldn’t sustain. Apparently, there’d been less hunger. Less pollution. Less war. But infinitely more heart ache. Peter didn’t think any of the other stuff even came close to canceling that out.

“I think we should go see him.” May suggested, rubbing his back as she held him and the tears slid down his cheeks. “Just in case.”

In case he died. The words went unvoiced. The very thought that it was even a possibility made him want to scream. Because of some hate group. He should’ve gone to that party. Maybe he would’ve sensed something. Maybe his ‘Peter tingle’ would’ve caught on. But no, he’d chosen to hang out with MJ instead.

“Yeah.” He said, trying to get a handle on his emotions. “Let’s go.”

“Ok.” May gave him another tight squeeze before releasing him. “He’s at the compound. I’ll drive.”

It’d taken months, but they’d rebuilt the compound, like some sort of symbol, bigger and better, in the same place where it’d been desecrated. Peter usually felt some amount of awe whenever he drove up to it, but not today. A numbness had descended upon him ever since he’d gotten in the car. It was as if he couldn’t process any more emotion, good or bad, until he knew if Tony would be ok. Like a kind of limbo.

The clop of his sneakers on the immaculately polished floors echoed ominously throughout the silent halls. May had tried to throw her arm over his shoulders in support on the walk in but he’d shrugged it off. Even though he desired the comfort, he hadn’t wanted to be seen as weak by any other Avengers they might encounter. They already looked at him like a child.

He and May rounded the corner and Peter stopped up short. Tony’s door was at the end of the hall, and he was almost afraid to cross the remaining distance. He didn’t want to see him hooked up to machines with wires attached and tubes coming out of him. Seeing him like that was always hard. The man was supposed to be larger than life, so anytime something happened where he actually appeared mortal, it was like the cosmic forces were out of sync.

“Come on baby.” May nudged him forward with a hand against his back.

Peter took a deep breath and managed to put one foot in front of the other again. He could do this. He had to. He’d never forgive himself if he didn’t see Tony and something happened. When they got to his door, Peter paused again, but he forced his hand to grip the door handle and twist it open.

“Hey kid!” Tony greeted him cheerily, sitting up in bed and not looking at all close to death.

Peter froze, not quite believing his eyes. His gaze shot over to May, wondering if this had all been some sort of cruel trick, but she looked equally shocked. His eyes darted back to Tony, afraid to believe it. But the man seemed fine. Maybe a little drawn and tired but not on death’s door like he’d been led to believe.

He took a halting step forward, not quite ready to trust it, and worried that too much hope might shatter the mirage in front of him.

“What’s wrong Pete?” Tony frowned.

“You…you’re ok?” He asked, taking another step forward.

“Yeah I’m fine.” Tony held an arm out towards him, encouraging him to come closer.

Peter hurried over to him, grabbing Tony’s arm once he got close enough. He was real, solid and warm

“You’re ok.” He repeated as if in affirmation.

“That’s what I said. Try to keep up kid.” Tony smirked at him, and Peter felt his resolve crumble. Relieved sobs bubbled up and out of him, shaking his frame.

“Shit. Come here.” Tony pulled him into a comforting hug. “I’m fine. I promise I’m fine.”

A minute later Peter heard the familiar click of heels enter the room behind him, but he didn’t lift his head, still working on regaining his composure.

“Oh.” He heard Pepper say in surprise. “Oh May. I’m sorry. I forgot to call you back. As soon as I got off the phone with you Bruce figured out the antidote and an hour later Tony was fine. I can’t believe I forgot to let you know. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. I’m sure you had a lot on your mind.” May reassured her.

“Still, that’s no excuse. Oh sweetie I’m sorry I scared you. It was touch and go there for awhile but Tony’s going to be fine.” Pepper placed her hand on his back. He really didn’t want her to feel bad. He tried to pull himself together. Tony was perfectly fine. He wasn’t going to die.

Peter took a deep breath and pulled away, wiping his eyes as he sniffled.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall apart.” He gave them a tight smile. “I just— Well, we thought you were dying.”

“Dying? You told them I was dying?” Tony threw an accusatory look at Pepper.

She crossed her arms and raised her voice, “We thought you were dying.”

“Pfft. It’d take more than some crazy zealot to take me out. Don’t you know me at all honey?”

Pepper rolled her eyes.

“I mean seriously, poison? That’s not how Ironman goes out.” Tony shook his head and then looked at him with a smirk. “Right?”

“Right.” He agreed with a nod.

“If anything, it’ll be in a blaze of glory.”

It took every ounce of Peter’s being to not think about Thanos and Tony snapping the gauntlet, coming as close as anyone could to death.

“Yes, at the rate you’re going, you will probably blow yourself up someday.” Pepper deadpanned.

“Hey!” Tony said indignantly. Peter couldn’t help it. He snorted out a small laugh, the numbness and fear inside him finally melting away.

“No,” May smiled, joining in the fun, “it’s going to be—”

“Old age.” Peter interrupted, not wanting to think of any other possibility at the moment, not even in jest.

They all quieted down, and Tony looked at him, a soft smile on his face and eyes alive and twinkling. “Yeah. Old age. That could work.”

#febuwhump2021 #febuwhump #irondad

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serenasoutherlyns · 3 years

Text

Full of Surprises ch. 1-3

casey/alex, past alex/olivia. semi-au & fuzzy timeline, set post season 9. cross-posted from ao3 so the first three chapters are coming at ya all at once. TW for series-typical violence, SA, and discussions of mental illness. less graphic than the show. Fluff, romance, angst! First three chapters are totally SFW.

And yet, as she scanned the place, she caught someone she recognized. Sitting at the bar, bent over a notebook, was Casey Novak; her deep red hair tied back in a casual ponytail, an empty highball glass in front of her, chewing on the end of a click pen.

1 .

This wasn’t where Alex would usually find herself. Or at least, it didn’t used to be. Maybe it was now.

Emily had spent her evenings sat at a booth in the back of the local pub, watching and sketching. The books she’d filled, she kept them safely tucked in a box in the back of her closet, initialed “EC.” Alex couldn’t find it in her to draw much anymore.

Anne was alone more than not, spent long evenings reading philosophy, went running early mornings, yoga classes, taught herself guitar, filled hours on hours with ideas and exhaustion. Alex didn’t spend much time poring over The Republic these days, her guitar was long covered in dust.

In law school, her friends had a favorite table in the window of a little cafe, they would go from morning coffee to afternoon study to sharing bottles of red wine, coming and going as they pleased, debating with hopeful glimmers in their bright eyes. Late into the night, arm wrapped around Sylvia’s waist, listening to her classmates carry on, she’d watch the candles burn down. Sylvia had called her Lexi, whispered in her ear on night walks in the cold Cambridge air to their little apartment, gentle hands soothing her most anxious times. Alex hadn’t felt like that in years.

College weekends were spent at punk shows in basements, though she knows now nobody would believe it, young Alex Cabot (the nickname had been coined in those years, sharper edged than the elaborate Alexandra) knew how to have some fun, at least back then. She’d dyed her hair black and worn studs on her collar, had a reputation for being a player, and it seemed like the back of her right hand was constantly stained with marker residue. Sticky floors and lipgloss on her neck, so many firsts all at once.

Her evenings during her years in the DA’s office were usually full of work, except the odd night when she’d meet the detectives for a drink at their haunt or head out with the other ADAs to some upscale cocktail bar. Two different crowds with two different mentalities, the detectives were dedicated to a fault, while the prosecutors were insufferably full of themselves. The detectives would tire her out by 11:30, but she’d find an excuse to leave the ADA excursions before 9. Far more special were the many evenings spent in Olivia’s apartment drinking two beers each and filling the quiet air with soft laughter and conversation.

But a little library themed speakeasy? Not her typical place. Well. No time like the present to change one’s habits. She’d been recommended it by an old law school friend a couple weeks ago, bumped into him on a whim in a coffee shop, was surprised she wasn’t dead, had been there last night, said it was right up her alley. Its illicit vibe wasn’t exactly to ADA Cabot’s tastes, no. But it scratched something in Alex, that hadn’t been satisfied since those basement nights and cozy cafe afternoons. From the place’s shelves she’d pulled a book of Pre-Raphaelite poetry and sat in a comfy chair with a scotch and a San Pelligrino, pleased, at least, to be out of the apartment for the evening.

She didn’t need the money, but she’d been copyediting textbooks freelance, filling up her time with grammar and word choice. She’d been reading a lot of fiction. She adopted two extremely fluffy cats. It was a pleasant, if mundane, life. It turned out, Alex had realized, that there were plenty of eager and capable young attorneys who could do her former job as well as she ever had. She felt, finally, like she deserved a bit of a rest. Needed one, really. Someone would do the prosecuting. The thought of stepping back in the courtroom, looking at the bench, examining witnesses, made her feel sick to her stomach, though she had once loved that life. It wasn’t her anymore— maybe it never really had been. She decided this was her kind of place after all. This iteration of Alexandra Cabot would drink bubbly water in secluded speakeasies while reading poetry.

Alex didn’t expect to see anybody she knew, not somewhere you needed a password to get into, where the music was indie folk and old jazz from a vintage record player, the drinks had names like the “Lady Brett” and the “Daisy Buchanan,” and most of the patrons were dressed in flannel with their noses buried in old books. And yet, as she scanned the place, she caught someone she recognized. Sitting at the bar, bent over a notebook, was Casey Novak; her deep red hair tied back in a casual ponytail, a half-empty highball glass in front of her, chewing on the end of a click pen.

This was surprising. Alex, though she hadn’t ever known Casey well, before her first brief return to life as Alex Cabot, only as one of the white collar ADAs (they ran in a bit of a pack, didn’t shy away from imitating the lifestyles of those they prosecuted). After knowing her as a prosecutor, Alex would expect to see Casey in a sports bar watching a game, or in some chrome-gilded bar with high ceilings drinking designer cocktails and cheering on a verbal showdown between her colleagues. Or in the center of a showdown like that. Not alone, writing in a moleskine, wearing a red flannel over a simple black dress. Casey was striking, Alex realized, before she realized she’d been looking a little longer than was considered normal. She hoped she didn’t seem like a creep watching from afar. She considered getting up, saying hello, but felt that Casey may not even remember her, may not want to be disturbed as she wrote, may not even recognize her anymore. She’d changed her appearance when she’d gone back to being Alex Cabot, cut her hair in a short bob, dyed it dark brown, wore thick rimmed glasses and simple clothing, too painful to be the formal blonde she used to be. Barely the same woman who’s once-murderer Casey had put behind bars those years ago.

Alex didn’t have to consider talking to Casey, however, because almost as soon as she returned to her book, she heard the sound of rubber soled sneakers against the old hardwood floors and a voice beside her.

“Hey stranger,” she said.

“Hi Casey,” Alex said as she slid her bookmark into place and looked up at the familiar face with a smile. “Care to join me?”

2 .

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” Casey said as she sat down. “I’m allowed to, uh, talk to you right? Though I guess if I wasn’t you wouldn’t acknowledge me, which would be fine, by the way.” There was the Casey Alex remembered, her words getting ahead of her.

“It’s fine, I’m me again,” Alex said calmly, “It’s really good to see you, though I wouldn’t have imagined you to be the writing type, or the underground-library-bar type” Alex gestured to the leather notebook in Casey’s left hand.

“I’m full of surprises, Alexandra Cabot.” Casey said in a tone that suggested she was sarcastic, yet convinced Alex she was telling the truth. Alex sipped her water.

“What were you working on?” She asked, not wanting to pry, but very eager to catch up, to know why she was alone in a place like this.

“Oh, nothing, nothing interesting. Just some little bits and pieces.” Casey replied.

“Not argument notes on a Saturday night, I hope?” Alex asked, though she knew that she would’ve done the same thing back when she was in the DA’s office. Casey looked pale, uncomfortable for a moment. “I’m sorry,” Alex said, trying to soothe any pain she may have caused, though she couldn’t fathom why. “I don’t mean to bring up work when you’re trying to relax.” At this, Casey just looked confused.

“Alex, have you not heard?” Casey said, searching for signs of recognition in the woman’s eyes, but finding only further confusion continuing, her voice low, “I was censured a few months ago. I can’t practice law for at least three years.” Alex’s eyes opened wide and she set her glass down on the table between them. “I’m surprised the rumor hasn’t reached your circles yet, though I admit I’m glad I get to be the one to tell someone for a change.” Alex noticed Casey cross her arms together over her chest, closing herself up, making herself seem smaller.

It was quiet for a while, the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald on the speakers, quiet conversations, and pages turning filling it. “I’m sorry, no, I hadn’t heard. That’s too bad. Do you want to talk about it?” Casey grinned at the suggestion, oddly intimate for the two women who, while they hardly knew each other, had shared some of the most intense moments either of them had experienced in a courtroom.

“I think I’ve gone over it enough in my head, but uh, thank you.” Casey said, her voice wobbling on the thanks, “You know, you’re the first person so far to actually ask me that?”

“I’m sorry.” Was Alex’s reply. Surely Casey had people who were interested in her feelings?

“The circumstances were,” Casey trailed off as she looked for the right wording, “I was at fault, for sure. But I was just trying to do the right thing, and I made a mistake.”

“Nothing shocking, I hope?” Asked Alex, still trying to ascertain the nature of the censure, wondering about what the woman sitting across from her could’ve done.

“I violated due process, technically.” Casey replied, attempting to gauge Alex’s reaction, but seeing that it continued to be contemplative rather than condemning, continued, “I shouldn’t’ve, but I think all of us have done worse in our time. But I was not in Donnelly’s good graces, so…” instead of ending her sentence, Casey sipped the last of her drink and looked up at Alex nervously, hoping the woman wouldn’t judge her too harshly.

“Oh man, Casey. That’s really tough. I’m sorry.” Casey searched for any sign of disapprobation in Alex’s tone, but finding only genuine concern, relaxed.

“So I’ve been doing other stuff for a little while. Using my undergrad,” she said, truly sarcastic this time. “What about you Cabot? What’s keeping you from your old haunt? And what’s with the brunette look?”

Alex wanted to answer, but wasn’t going to let Casey get away completely with deflecting. “You didn’t answer my question, Novak. What’s in the notebook?”

Casey laughed. “You really are relentless.” Alex just raised an eyebrow smugly while sipping her drink, as if to say, go on. “It’s a poetry journal. I’ve kept one since college.”

This admission broke the unflappable Alex Cabot’s reserve and she couldn’t keep herself from a few giggles. “I apologize,” she said, “for laughing at you. Just, the idea of Casey Novak the poet would not have occurred to me.”

“Like I said,” Casey started, “I’m full of surprises. And nobody has laughed at me in a long time,” she continued, beginning to laugh herself. “Believe it or not, I have an English degree.”

“Ok, ok, stop. I’m not sure I can take many more shocks tonight,” teased Alex.

“And you, didn’t answer my question. What’s with the brunette? You look beautiful,” Casey said before realizing what she was saying, shutting herself up before she said anything embarrassing.

“I needed a change,” Alex said, “Something to distance myself from my old selves. I never dyed my hair before, or switched up my look at all really. Just, a change.”

“I get that.” Casey said, and Alex felt like she really did get it, somehow more than anybody else had to this point. She’d seen a few old colleagues and friends, and they all had looked at her with this mixture of fear and pity that made her wish she was invisible. But Casey seemed to say something deeper in just three words.

They talked together late into the night, about books and drinks (Casey had been a bartender in college, her knowledge on pairings was unparalleled) and everything but law. It was close to 2:00 am when Casey started to yawn.

“I’m really glad I ran into you, Alex,” she said as they left the bar, her voice scratchy from talking quietly, a subtle accent that Alex couldn’t quite place showing through under the influence of sleepiness and her light buzz. It was adorable, Alex found herself thinking.

“Me too, Casey,” Alex replied, and before she could turn to start walking towards her apartment, only a block or so away, she was met with a hug. It was brief, but Alex took in the scent of Casey’s coconut shampoo, sweet and pleasing.

“I wouldn’t have expected you to be much of a hugger either,” Alex said as she pulled away, brushing her hands on Casey’s elbows.

“I guess you have a lot to figure out,” she said, playfully, as Alex handed her into a cab.

As Alex walked up the stairs to her apartment (she could afford a bigger place, but this one, this one felt right), Alex replayed the evening and regretted not asking for Casey’s phone number before she left. When she pulled her keys out of her pocket to unlock the door, she found a piece of paper, with a number and a note:

text me, so I can learn some of your surprises.

3 .

Alex was awake.

The same old dreams kept her restless. It had been a bad night, she’d slept less than 3 hours before she woke, startled, as the sun just began to rise, 5 am on a Saturday in September.

Foggily, she attempted to reconstruct the details of her pieced together dreams, her therapist, Julia, had convinced her to keep a journal. She said the nightmares of being shot, of nobody recognizing her, those made perfect sense, classic PTSD symptoms. With what happened to her it would’ve been stranger to not suffer it. But these hadn’t been those dreams.

Clare Cartwright, age 15 stood in line at the coffee shop. Her face was pink with tears but nobody saw anything out of the ordinary except for Alex, watching her from a table. Clare’s cheeks were wet and covered in running mascara but the barista didn’t bat an eye as she ordered an iced chai and sat down alone with her laptop. Tears turned to sobs turned to screams, thrashing, but she just kept typing, sipping her tea, nobody did a damn thing. Alex tried to rise from her seat, go to the girl, hold her and scratch her back while she cried, but the heavy weight of her own body kept her seated, powerless to do anything. She tried to yell across the room, tell her that it was going to be ok, she was going to put whoever hurt her behind bars, protect her from them forever. But when she opened her mouth all breath was sucked out of her lungs, she collapsed. Clare’s cries echoed ceaselessly.

Trevor Hamilton, a 20 something pro, had been turning tricks all night but one guy had taken it a little too far. He was sure his neck, hips would be covered in nasty bruises the next day. Oh well. Nobody believed a pro who cried rape. He stuffed his cash in his briefs and made his way towards the van he slept in with three other guys but before he could get there, he fell, body bloody. Nobody heard a sound but Trevor must have been shot. His blood was cold as it poured out of him onto the sidewalk but he stood up. He wasn’t dead. In the morgue, Melinda Warner ruled the cause of death a fatal gunshot wound to his back, probably a stray bullet, but he’d had sex the night he died, maybe an angry John. Alex told everyone that he wasn’t dead. Trevor whispered in her ear, asked her how could she let them say he was dead, how could she let them get away with saying such a thing like that, how could she let them call what had happened to him sex. Alex repeated herself over and over but all she got in return from the detectives were sympathetic looks of confusion as they sent her home for the day. She must’ve been too tired, Alex heard Olivia tell Elliot, maybe her mind was acting up again, sleep deprivation can kickstart psychosis. Someone would check in on her that night, make sure she wasn’t relapsing. Alex knew she wasn’t hallucinating, because Trevor had spoken to her in the clearest voice she’d heard in months. Alex wept for Trevor the whole way home and then some but nobody seemed to notice.

Annabelle Lamm wore a fuzzy pink nightgown when her grandmother brought her into the precinct one snowy night. Olivia called Alex to come to the precinct, they needed a warrant for the apartment, they found fluids in the girl’s hair of all places, grandma handed them an envelope full of pictures of Annie that nobody in the family admitted to taking. It was a no brainer warrant, Alex didn’t even mind waking up a judge for it if it meant getting whoever had been hurting this little girl as soon as possible. When Alex arrived to the building, Olivia wasn’t there and all the lights were off. Alex clicked on a lamp, wondered if Liv had found another ADA and rushed off without telling her anything. But the room was unfamiliar, empty, concrete. In the center of the room standing perfectly still was a 5 year old girl in a pink fuzzy nightgown. Alex ran to her but couldn’t get any closer. The little girl had a hollow expression and didn’t move an inch. Alex kept running and running but her feet stayed in the same spot, powerless.

Yeah. Powerless. As she awoke she felt like she was still running, head still spinning, still heard screams.

She wrote it all down in her journal. Julia had said that it was unusual for people whose jobs involved consistently levels of high stress and disturbance to have the severity of symptoms she had; that there was usually a tolerance that was built up to being horrified. Alex had either never had that tolerance or it had been washed away during the years she’d spent in WITSEC because her very brief return to the practice of law had nearly broken her.

“Sleep deprivation can kickstart psychosis,” Olivia had told her once when they first worked together, ostensibly referring to a case of statutory rape where the perp didn’t recall a single piece of the event; but Alex knew the comment was pointed at her, not the perp. Olivia could tell that Alex’s patience was growing thin, her mind unfocused; she must’ve deduced that Alex wasn’t sleeping much. But Alex already knew the warning signs.

Alexandra Cabot, age 16, sat shaking in a hospital room. It was almost finals week, she’d pulled a few all nighters, it was nothing serious, she’d told her school counselor a week prior when her friends had noticed her speech patterns growing muddled. She stayed up another 24 hours and the last thing she remembered was her roommates grabbing her wrists and pulling her inside off the balcony. After that, the school had installed locks on all the windows. Alexandra was freezing in her hospital gown, brain numbed out from the IV antipsychotics she was attached to. A few days in the hospital to take care of her injuries (she was informed that she had thrown herself against the wall while school officials took her to the ER), then a summer of residential treatment, hopefully she would be able to return to boarding school in the fall. Her father looked at her with a shattered expression, her mother treated her with cold indifference, her friends didn’t talk to her. Major depression with psychotic features.

Alex knew the consequences of not sleeping enough. She considered taking her cup of mint tea and heading back to bed, cuddling up to her cats, reading a book maybe, just trying to screw her head on right. Her body fought her though, nervous energy ran through her veins, so she elected to have a walk instead. Besides, it had been years since she’d had any serious episode. Anxiety, sure, and the occasional month or so of depression, a few close calls, but regular therapy and medication kept her more or less in the clear since college. Her family, her therapists, had suggested she go into a different kind of law, something stimulating but less distressing like, intellectual property, but she had refused, felt called to prosecuting. But her experience was what made her a great prosecutor, and it was why she had been so adamant about the proper handling of cases involving those suffering from mental illness, especially victims, but perps as well. She knew how it felt, more than she admitted to almost anybody, but she also knew there were paths through it.

The same old nightmares, but Alex was a different person. The old Alex would’ve thrown herself even harder into work than usual, won her cases even more viciously, assuaged her feelings of powerlessness by asserting control. This Alex knew that complete control was unattainable.

The September air was cold this early in the morning, but bracing. The contrast between her thermos full of hot tea pleased her, she pretended she was a dragon as she breathed steam. She smiled to herself at the thought and at the bright orange sun rising through the treetops in the park by her apartment. This had been the right choice, sunrises were her favorite magic. Content covered her like a well fitting dress, shaking off the nerves slowly. The most dedicated joggers and newsstand operators were the only other people out this early, the quietest time in the city. Alex’s phone buzzed.

Casey: Nice coat, Cabot.

Alex looked up from her phone, confused. What? Maybe it was delivered late. She’d seen Casey two days ago for coffee— they’d developed a friendship. Texts, coffee, nothing too deep; but then it had only been a couple weeks since they’d run into each other at the library bar. Alex liked Casey. She was funny and a good listener, and she always had something to say. She didn’t walk on eggshells around Alex either, making Casey unique among her friends. She’d tried to meet up with Liv right when she’d gotten back to the city the second time, but the way she looked at her cut way too deep, like she was a hero, like she was a victim. Both of those she may well be, but she needed to be treated as a friend. Casey did that for her, down to playfully teasing her over her eccentric habits. Another text:

Casey: Turn around, Clueless.

Not many people had ever called Alexandra Cabot clueless. Alex turned around, and Casey waved at her excitedly from the jogging path and without waiting for Alex’s reaction began to run up to where she was sitting. Alex was surprised to see her, happily so. She knew Casey was athletic, but didn’t take her to be the 5:30 running type. She wore tight leggings and a running jacket, and the biggest smile Alex had seen from her. She looked beautiful in the soft early light, Alex thought, then immediately blushed at that thought.

She’d never been one to shy away from her sexuality, especially when she realized the destructive role repression had played in her life before she came out. Alex had been out since college, but she tried very hard not to crush on straight women. She knew she couldn’t control who she was attracted to, but it always made her feel a bit dejected, so. Nip that in the bud.

Alex didn’t have much time to consider the ethics of her thoughts, because Casey was right in front of her, grabbing her hands.

“It’s so good to see you! A second surprise encounter, must be fate, Cabot,” Casey said in a quiet voice, a wink in her words.

“Something like that,” Alex replied, “What are you doing out so early?”

“I could ask the same of you; I’m just finishing up my run. You are wearing a fancy coat and looking deep in thought, in fact, you are being far more suspicious than I am, look at how many people are out here jogging, I mean,”

“Oh my god,” Alex cut her off with an eye roll, “Ok, stop cross-examining me.”

Casey gave Alex a genuine laugh, “Old habits die hard.” She paused for a second. “You look pale, did you sleep?”

“Thanks, Casey.” Alex gave her a playful glare. “If three nightmares in three hours counts, then yes, I slept.”

“Oh you poor thing. I’d hug you but,” She gestured to her sweaty figure. “You wanna get breakfast? I’ll pop back to my apartment, shower, and meet you at yours in say, half an hour?”

Alex started slightly at the familiarity, but responded, “Yeah, sure, sounds fun. Uh, here I’ll text you my address.”

Did Casey blush? Alex couldn’t be sure due to her post-run glow and the chill in the air. “Sorry if that’s too familiar, I know we usually plan these things out, and I guess I just assumed you didn’t have plans, it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, you know, runner’s high and all,” but Alex cut her off again with a raise of her eyebrows.

“Are you retracting the offer, Novak?” Alex couldn’t resist the urge to tease the woman in front of her. “Because if I recall correctly, I said yes.”

Casey grew more flustered, replied with a quick, “Nope, still happening, see you in half an hour,” and took off running, leaving Alex behind as she laughed in disbelief.

#law and order svu #calex #cabenson #alex cabot #casey novak #olivia benson #svu #svu imagines #alex cabot x casey novak #alex cabot x olivia benson #svu fanfiction #fanfiction #author #casey novak poetry nerd

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baconpal · 3 years

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talkin bout fuckig manga

hey it’s me, haven’t had internet for over a week and i’ve been sick and uni and blah blah blah time for a rant about manga

this time its about "Soredemo Machi wa Mawatteiru", tl;dr, good manga read it idk

lots of bullshit below the cut

Before anything I say gets too confusing or I go off on an insane tangent, just know my recommendation is that you read "Soredemo Machi wa Mawatteiru". It's not very easy to find online since it has an official English release (which my recommendation extends far enough to suggest I might pick up in the future, just to have it, but I am very stingy), but there's an alright torrent of all the volumes on your local anime torrenting website, and is at the very least worth the trouble of reading as such. There is also an anime that gets better as it goes, but the manga is my primary recommendation. Beyond this point I'm not gonna give much regard to what I write, so get ready for anything, read the manga and see if you agree with me, or don't and see if I care:

BOUT THE ANIME: The SoreMachi anime is one of those rare comedy anime you find where the animation and overall production is just really extra the entire time. Hopefully you know what I mean because I won't really be able to explain it any other way, it's simply one of those shows where the jokes are decent and it's a fun time for the most part. Unfortunately, the anime makes a couple of critical missteps that kept me from getting far into it when I first tried watching it about a year ago, and in retrospect seem even less reasonable.

Starting with the good, as an adaptation it does a good job with most chapters it covers, it properly sources where each chapter comes from incase you intend to read the manga and skip around to catch up, and the anime adapts some sections to have additional jokes that fit very naturally in to the story. It also covers up some of those problems only manga can have like having a concert segment without any actual music involved, until they invent mp3-paper it's just something we'll have to live with. Translation work was pretty good (I watched the [WhyNot] release for those who care), which is extra important for something as difficult to translate as jokes from another language. The set of episodes they chose to end on was very good, and was expanded to be a lot more impactful in the anime. If it wasn't for the last episode being as strong as it was I may have given up on finding the manga when I saw it wasn't super easy to read online.

As for what the anime fails in, some episodes feature some really blatant over-acting that doesn't really help make characters believable, and there's this obnoxious gag that continues the whole where through where most scenes have a few seconds long line from what is essentially a forced mascot character, which usually mean nothing and only serve to harm the pacing of many episodes (there isn't even any sort of equivalent bit in the manga so I really don't know why they did it, most of the anime original jokes are pretty good so I just really don't get it). The biggest issue the anime faces is that the source material is about 140 chapters, while the anime is only able to cover 24 chapters. This comes with a LOT of problems, the first being what I'd call the "required reading". SoreMachi is not a 1-note simple comedy where you can skip to any chapter and be completely okay; There are many small but meaningful subplots lying beneath, and characters have a fair bit of development throughout. What this means for the anime is that the first 3-4 episodes are just the first few chapters of the manga, which are a bit rough and not as good as the majority of the work, which is true of a lot of comics (god fuck I promise there will be more than a first chapter of my comic I promise it'll get better fuck). In terms of the anime by itself, I'd say episode 1 is decent, 2 is middling, and by 3/4 their still taking a while to introduce members of the cast, and I didn't immediately want to finish it. I put the show down for a long time until my internet started dying and I wanted to watch something fun. Slapping it back on at episode 5 I immediately had a great time and watched the rest of the show pretty soon after. While I understand the reasoning behind doing this, the anime does not pay off this structure, as beyond the first few episodes, the chapters start being presented out of release order and out of chronological order, kind of destroying any consistent throughline. This decision in and of itself isn't the worst, since the comic isn't always chronological, and the volume ordering is a bit different from the release ordering, but the inconsistency makes the first few episodes feel lessened without reason. The other large failure that comes with only animating about 1/7th of the entire work is that many themes and concepts that are core to the manga are not represented in the anime well at all. One of the biggest is the rare but unnerving supernatural chapters, of which only one is animated, and not a particularly good one. In order to talk about these themes I'll have to transition into talking about the manga itself, since they aren't part of the anime.

DA MANGA: So one last recommendation that you read the manga, the whole damn thing. Cus we're gettin into themes and character moments that take a long time to pay off, and obviously is all part of my interpretations, so if that stuff means anything to you don't let me ruin it for ya.

The title of the manga is, in essence, the entire manga's "punchline" in that every chapter could meaningfully end with simply the text "And yet the town still turns..." (My translation of the title, fuck "And yet, the town revolves" or "But the town moves"); by this I mean most chapters end in an anti-climax where a mystery is left unsolved, or a mystery is solved and undercut by the realization that life simply keeps on going without much change. This is used to essentially force your eyes open to all possibilities when reading, as the main character spends her time acting like a detective, and these mysteries end up as either misunderstandings, secrets, riddles, and sometimes something out of the ordinary happens that makes you unable to pin anything down firmly. Similarly, these endings aren't always read-and-forget scenarios. Several chapters come back in the form of a continued joke, a continued mystery, or contribute to some greater purpose later. Readers are properly rewarded for keeping everything they can in mind, while also tormenting such people with loose ends.

I enjoy Hotori as a protagonist due to her character being defined not in flaws and strengths, but in mindedness. Hotori seems like a simple "haha she's dumb" character to start, but consistently throughout she proves that her strengths are in memory, observation, and deduction, while lacking in some more common sense and abilities. Her brain works in strange ways that some people may or may not understand, such as her need to think through even the most trivial fictional scenarios, which I relate to deeply.

The art and paneling throughout are wonderful. Ishiguro Masakazu is one of those artists who draws very simple characters, but knows how to use details and depth to breath so much life into the artwork. He also clearly uses the occasional supernatural happenings as an excuse to draw what he loved, as all sorts of artistic depictions of the supernatural come out that simply look satisfying. These parts obviously meant a lot to him since he's been working on a primarily mystery-action manga that has a lot more of that stuff in it. (Also, as hindsight is 20/20, if you've read any of his new work you'll notice that the main character of it is eerily similar to a character who shows up very late in SoreMachi that the author obviously fell in love with, cus she just keeps coming back and even ends up with a really unsettling end to her character arc despite only being introduced as a component in a harmless mystery. Feel free to call me out for the same shit 30 years from now when I'll probably do the same shit)

I'd like to get into some of the major themes of this work, as a lot of them hit very close to my mind (which I guess is true of any theme you recognize for yourself, you wouldn't really "get it" if it didn't mean something to you...).

The simplest theme, again, comes from the title. The main character, Hotori, expresses a desire that the town she lives in continues going on, unchanged forever. This is obviously a fear of change, which ya know, same, but also an exploration of what it means to fear change. Hotori actively tries to keep businesses from closing down, keep friends from leaving, and keep relationships from changing, while simultaneously making all sorts of new relationships and solving mysteries. Hotori even comes to realize that simply learning the truth about something changes the world through your own perspective, and that such changes can't be undone. In spite of this, Hotori mostly gets her wish, any time she fears that a large change will impact the town, its resolved about the same as any other issue. Whether its a message that even time can't keep you from your loved ones and that change isn't worth fearing, or a concession that large changes to the setting would be a bad idea in terms of humor, I can't really decide. This theme reaches it's conclusion in what is one in a series of "ending" kinda chapters at the end of the series. Hotori is faced with a supernatural ethical situation, save her town from destruction at the cost of her existence, or live through the disaster, knowing her town and the people in it will forever be changed. While the actual result is that nobody disappears and nothing is lost, and the event may have simply been a strange dream, Hotori confidently decides that sparing the people in her town from a life altering event is worth giving up her memories with them. A kind of bold spit-in-the-face to the idea that change is okay, where we find that Hotori didn't fear change for herself, but rather for the people around her.

There's another major idea in this manga, which takes a very long time to pay off, and completes its arc at the very very very actual end of the series, the idea of "leading someone to be something". A character that rides that line between main and side character, Shizuka, is a writer of detective novels, who feels the best person to judge her works would be a version of herself without the bias of being the author. She tries to achieve this by leading Hotori to be interested in detective works (including her own) and generally be just like her, starting from a young age. The end result is a young girl dead set on being a detective herself (or at least another novelist), while Shizuka keeps her identity as an author secret. She then uses Hotori as a scapegoat for herself, attempting to see how she would solve various mysteries and use that as inspiration, and this is depicted as though Shizuka were some sort of villain, which she may feel like she is. The end result of it all, though, is that Hotori was likely already a detective-minded person, and that even if Shizuka pushed her down that path, it was Hotori's decision to continue down it, and the very end of the manga is a scene revealing that Hotori figured out Shizuka's secret at some point, and even still respected Shizuka and aspired to reach her, and the two accept each other for who they are. I enjoy this ending a lot, since as an artist I've worried that some of my love or aspirations for and from other artists came with an ulterior motive of wanting a better community for art to exist in, but people are people and will make their own decisions, and some day everyone may be able to become equals in a truly meaningful sense, where everyone is inspired by and guiding each other together.

So that probably didn't mean shit to nobody and I didn't even really talk about anything in the comic like most of the main characters or any of the shit goin on but ya know fuck you go read it, and thanks for reading this.

#long ass post #also gonna have finals on my birthday this week so awesome #im having a good time this year h-haha

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ahgaseda · 4 years

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two can keep a secret || chapter 07

⇥ synopsis : when your father reveals his intention to remarry, you find an unlikely confidant in Mark, your soon-to-be stepbrother, but what began as a revenge fling ironically becomes far more complicated...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, recurring alcohol and drug use, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

Only the sound of forks and knives clinking against dishes filled the dining room. Your parents always insisted on at least one family dinner per week. It had been less than a day since your fight with Mark and now you were forced to sit across from him until everyone had cleared their plates.

Mark ate like a man starved, uncaring as he stuffed his face. Your father was no different. The men said nothing whilst they filled their stomachs. Meanwhile, you poked at your steak and Mark’s mother kept looking around the table.

“Did the two of you have a fight?” she asked suddenly.

You glanced up, like a deer in headlights. Mark didn’t slow down. He swallowed what was in his mouth and simply shook his head, as if anything between you and him was inconsequential.

His mother turned her gaze to you, expectant.

“I’m sorry. I just… don’t feel very well,” you told her, offering a placating smile. It wasn’t a lie. Your stomach was in knots almost constantly since you saw those positive pregnancy tests.

“You do look pale, honey,” she crooned.

You swallowed nervously. Did you?

Mark looked up at that, giving you a scrutinizing glance. His first instinct was to worry. Had the fight and pregnancy scare stressed you to the point of illness? Before he could say something potentially damning, your father spoke up, “My daughter never complains of being sick.”

You could hear the concern in his voice.

“Don’t force yourself to eat if you feel unwell,” he continued. “You can be excused and go lie down if you need to.”

“Thank you,” you said softly, tears gathering in your eyes. You desperately wanted to get away from Mark. Rising from the table, you grabbed your plate and pushed your chair back into place. After discarding the uneaten food in the kitchen, you placed a kiss on your father’s cheek.

Then, you bolted. Locking the bedroom door behind you, you hid yourself beneath your blankets, crying until you nearly fell asleep. How were you going to tell your father that you were pregnant?

Mark set down his fork and leaned back against his chair. Was being in the same room with him that torturous for you? Because it damn sure was for him, but at least he managed to endure it.

He missed the feel of your skin and his fingers in your soft hair. The way you laughed when he tickled you or showed you something funny on his phone. How you snuggled up to him when you were sleepy and tangled your legs through his when you were cold. And the handful of times you had spoken his name in your sleep, letting him know he was on your mind even in your dreams.

Mark sharply cleared his throat and decided he needed to bury himself balls deep in another cunt until he forgot about you.

Jackson was reliable for two things: hyping up his friends when they felt like dying and organizing booze-filled parties on extremely short notice. Mark was in need of both, though he favored the latter.

When you stepped out of your bedroom, Mark was doing the same across the hall. Another downside you had forgotten about; your rooms faced each other.

You stopped in your tracks, still clutching the doorknob. Mark finished pulling on his leather jacket and met your eyes.

“Jacks is having a party,” Mark said, emotionless.

That stung. Jackson always texted you an invite to his parties. If he hadn’t, that meant Mark told him not to, which meant Mark didn’t want you to know how fucked up he was going to get.

Or that he was going to fuck around with other girls.

Flashing a brief, awkward smile, you told him, “Have fun.” Then, you brushed by him before any more words could pass between you.

Mark stood there, watching you go and battling with himself. Guilt manifested first, but he shook his head, hoping to shake the feeling away.

You hopped in the car and drove off into the night. You wanted to stay at your best friend’s place for as long as you could get away with. You didn’t want to be in the same house as Mark for a while. The secret was smothering you. Only you knew about the baby in your womb. Every time you laid eyes on Mark, you remembered you were carrying a piece of him inside you. And he had no idea.

Mark preferred drowning in alcohol than in his sorrows. Even as he chased another shot, throwing it back with a grimace, he thought about you. He couldn’t shake the image of you in his head, naked in his arms as you lulled him to sleep.

And now he couldn’t have you. He fucked it up.

You had given him a peace Mark didn’t think he was capable of anymore and it was gone as quickly as it had come. Gripping another shot tightly in his hand, Mark stared off into the distance as a realization sank in.

Jackson appeared at this side, clapping a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “How goes it, brother?”

“I’m in love with her,” Mark whispered.

Jackson froze. He knew exactly who his best friend was talking about. Rubbing his chin, Jackson glanced around to make sure no one was listening in and whispered, “I didn’t invite her. Like you wanted.”

“Good,” Mark said, downing another shot.

“Mark, do you need to talk about…,” Jackson started.

Mark rose from his seat and growled, “Where’s Leah? I know she’s around here somewhere.”

“Yeah…,” Jackson trailed, voice sympathetic. Leah was known for being easy. She was also known for having her eyes on Mark since the first time she saw him.

Mark spotted her in the crowd and headed toward her without another word. He approached her while she danced, wrapped an arm around her waist, and whispered in her ear, “Still want me to fuck your brains out?”

Leah couldn’t drag him upstairs fast enough.

Mark kissed her hard and rough, but she wasn’t you. Her hands felt like ice against his warm skin. Her legs were stiff around his waist. Mark could only picture you beneath him.

Leah, on the other hand, was ready to devour him. She stripped down to her bra under him and unbuckled his pants, reaching for his cock and letting out a moan. She gripped his half-hard shaft and nipped at his neck.

Then, Mark did the unthinkable.

He whispered your name.

Leah grabbed his face, pushing him back and scowling at him with wide, shocked eyes. “What did you just say?”

Mark blinked through his tequila-induced daze. “What?”

“Oh my god, you said her name,” she exclaimed in horror and quickly rising jealousy. “Your fucking stepsister!”

“No, I didn’t,” he stammered.

“I heard it, Mark. Holy shit. Are you screwing her?”

“What? No!”

Leah scrambled out of the bed, snatching her shirt and tugging it back on like she had finally discovered shame. “That’s disgusting.”

Rage and hurt boiled inside Mark until it spilled over and promptly exploded. Angrily, he shouted, “She’s not my stepsister!”

Leah blinked, a twisted smile pulling at her lips. Rather than deny, he justified it. “Oh, you are so fucked.”

Mark understood by the look on her face that life as he knew it was officially over. “You have no idea…,” he huffed in defeat.

You were a mixture of relieved and devastated that you didn’t see Mark at classes the next day. There were a few times your schedules overlapped and you would pass each other in the hall. He must have gotten drunk enough to warrant a hangover from hell.

But Leah made sure to shoulder check you as the two of you crossed paths.

“What the hell…?” you snapped, ready to slug her for staggering you backwards.

“Slut,” she snarled back, shoving past you to continue on her way.

You stood there shell-shocked. Leah never went toe-to-toe with you and you were tempted to pound her into the concrete as you protectively put a hand over your lower stomach.

Fortunately, your best friend appeared and looped her arm through yours, whispering, “Honey, haven’t you heard the latest gossip?”

You rolled your eyes. Never did you give a shit about gossip. “You know I have zero social media presence.”

She pulled you behind a corner and spoke in hushed tones, “It’s about you!”

“Me? What did I do?”

She bit her lip and told you, “Mark was in bed with Leah at Jackson’s party last night.”

Your heart sank somewhere below your chest, into some bottomless pit never to crawl back out again. “Oh.”

“And he said your name!”

The world came to a grinding halt around you.

Mark said your name while he was in bed with another woman. For all you knew he was finishing inside her and he literally called out your name.

You would think about the implications of that later, but for now, your focus was on the fact that it was becoming common knowledge on campus. Which meant word was spreading like wildfire.

“Oh god,” your friend murmured, saying your name in disbelief.

Your brow furrowed. “What?”

“I see your face. It’s true. You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?”

There was a pause while you swallowed the lump in your throat. Eventually, you muttered, “It’s complicated.”

She tilted her head and tried to be gentle. “Sweetie, I know he’s technically not your stepbrother yet, but your parents are getting married. It’s happening.”

You seethed, “I’m well aware of that.”

Your best friend hesitated, watching you carefully and noting the emotions gathering on your face. “How long has it been going on?”

You didn’t hesitate to answer, “Since they got engaged.”

She gaped. “For Christ’s sake.”

“He made it better, okay? We feel the same way about them getting married and it just… we were gonna get into self-destructive behaviors anyway. Turns out fucking each other was the most convenient.”

It was hard to tell who you were trying to convince.

She simpered, but certainly didn’t condone it. “You’re in love with him.”

You wanted to scowl. “Am I?”

“When I said he was in bed with Leah, you were devastated.”

You shook your head and shrugged. “I just felt betrayed, that’s all.”

She placed a tender hand on your arm. “They didn’t screw. Apparently they were about to and he dropped your name. She hauled ass out of there.”

That surprised you.

You held up your phone, expecting a text or missed call from Mark and finding nothing. “I need to go,” you told your friend, bidding her goodbye and heading for your car before she could grill you for more juicy gossip.

Hopping behind the wheel, your phone rang and you immediately answered, “Hello?”

“Hi, we got your message about seeing Dr. James. You’re not due for your well woman’s exam just yet, so I was calling to see what kind of appointment you needed.”

It was your doctor’s office. You forgot you called.

Fighting back tears, you looked around the parking lot and whispered, “I… took a few home pregnancy tests and they were all positive.”

“I understand,” said the receptionist kindly. “I can work you in the day after tomorrow. She can confirm the pregnancy and discuss prenatal care or other options with you. Does that sound alright?”

Voice trembling, you replied, “Yes, that would be great. I really appreciate it.”

Meanwhile, Mark ditched the rest of his classes to drown himself in a video game. He was screwed, there was no doubt about it. He checked his phone again for the thousandth time - still no word from you.

He let his head fall back with a groan. You would have heard by now. The girls you tended to hang with were some of the mouthiest he had ever known. They would be itching to spill the tea all over you.

There was a knock at Mark’s bedroom door. He set the controller down and leapt up anxiously, expecting it to be you. God knows, he just wanted you to hold him and lie to him that everything would be alright.

When Mark opened the door, his heart sank.

There stood your father and his cheeks were the color of the fires of Hell itself.

“Mark,” he said stiffly.

“Yes, sir.” Mark held his breath, his heart beating violently against his ribs.

Your father clenched his jaw and hissed, “How long have you been having sex with my daughter?”

chapter 06 ⇤ chapter 07 ⇥ chapter 08

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

#got7 fanfiction #got7 smut #mark smut #mark tuan smut #got7 imagines #mark tuan imagines #mark tuan fanfiction #got7 fanfic #mark fanfic #got7 au #mark tuan au

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hollandsmoose · 5 years

Text

better than sex

A/N: I've been writing on this for ages, holy shit. This is based on that thing Shawn said about performing being better than sex lmao. @particularrose basically wrote this one with all the ideas she gave me tbh so special shout-out to her for being so incredible! So here you go, dudes, here's 6k of some flirty sub!Shawn with a guest star appearance by Niall Horan himself!

part 2 in masterlist

-----------------

Summertime in Los Angeles is positively scorching. When the sun is high in the sky, it can feel a bit like you’re boiling. Niall’s house thankfully has stellar air conditioning, but it doesn’t stop things from getting a little heated at times.

When Niall had suggested that you could spend your summer with him in his Hollywood home, you hadn’t even hesitated to accept the offer. The prospect of spending several weeks alone with one of your best friends was almost too good to be true. And, of course, it was.

What Niall hadn’t told you when he made that offer was that he’d also made that same offer to someone else. Shawn. And it’s not that you don’t like Shawn; it’s more that you perhaps like him a little too much.

You’d met Shawn through Niall, and you’d initially been a smidge smitten with the curly-haired and brown-eyed boy who was nothing if not cute. But the more you got to know him, the more you realized that he wasn’t just cute; he was hot.

It’s even worse now, to be honest. The heat means that Shawn is never wearing too much clothing, and every goddamn time you see him, he’s got some part of his body on display. When you’ll be trying to read a book by the pool, for example, he’ll come out in nothing but swim trunks, his glorious torso on exhibition. The amount of times you’ve caught yourself fantasizing about running your hands over those defined abs or biceps or that back of his is astounding and almost worrying.

You don’t ever want to make it too obvious that you’re staring. Niall is much like a brother to you, you treat each other like siblings, and openly thirsting for one of his best friends seems like a bad idea.

You catch Shawn staring too, though. When you’ll go to take a dip in the pool in nothing more than a bikini, his eyes will linger a few moments too long. When you’ll walk around the house in booty shorts, the looks he gives you when he thinks you’re not looking are definitely indecent.

Almost subconsciously, it develops into a game of who can be the biggest tease, and it’s exhausting. Your only break from it is when Shawn goes off to the studio to write, although he always comes back frustrated, annoyed with the writer’s block he’s going through.

Niall does his best to help him, but there’s not much to do. Niall says it’s just something that happens every once in a while and that Shawn just has to let it pass. Shawn is not one for patience when it comes to things like these, however. He tells you that he’s looking for inspiration, and about two weeks into your stay is when he finds it.

-----------------

It’s a slightly colder day than usual, yet it would be a lie to say that it’s actually cold. LA is never cold. Not to you, anyway. All it really means is that you eat your dinner inside in the kitchen.

Niall has cooked tonight. It's always either you or him who's responsible for food because Shawn is absolutely hopeless in the kitchen. Therefore, he's often the one in charge of loading the dishwasher as compensation.

Niall has made you fettuccine alfredo which is cooked to perfection. He's picked up a couple of bottles of good white wine, a type that has certainly not been cheap. You suppose the price doesn't mean much to someone like him, though. He doesn't exactly lack money.

It doesn't take long before you've finished eating, but you remain at the table, drinking the rest of the wine. And that is when the topic falls to Shawn and his writer's block.

“I just really wanna finish this album, you know?” Shawn says, a little frustrated, and you both give him sympathetic nods. “Like, as soon as I'm done with it, I can start planning tour and shit. And I can't wait to get back on the road,” Niall raises his eyebrows and nods, knowing exactly what Shawn means. “Performing is just… the best fucking thing. Even better than sex.” The noise that leaves you is not one you can hold back.

“Ha!” you exclaim, giggling to yourself. When the two men give you confused looks, you smile. “I'm sorry, it's just…” You lock eyes with Shawn. The wine is making you too brave. “What kinda sex are you having?”

At this, Niall bursts into laughter, a laugh you would recognize anywhere, and he actually slaps the table. You can't help but laugh at your own comment too, but when you take in Shawn's expression, he doesn't seem amused.

He squints a little. “What does that mean?”

You pick up your wine glass. “Well, I'm just thinking that you must be having some pretty boring sex to be able to say that,” This only makes Niall snort out loud, now resting his forehead on the hard surface of the table.

“Maybe I just really like performing,”

“Maybe you do,”

“I do,”

“Great! Then that's settled!”

“I don't have boring sex,” Shawn bites back with a smirk, not willing to let it go. “I just think performing is better.”

“So performing is better than having your face buried in pussy?” you ask, incredulous. Niall is practically dying at this point in the conversation, gasping for air, and Shawn's face burns bright red. “Or being balls deep in one?” The wine's influence has made you too confident, and you know you should probably keep your mouth shut, but it's impossible. “I'll need to show you a good time, then.”

Niall doesn't seem to hear what you said, and you're glad. Niall may not be your real brother, but he is as overprotective as a real brother would be. Shawn, however, does hear.

He chokes on nothing, coughing desperately, and his eyes are wide. Niall gives him a confused look, but he doesn't give an explanation, and neither do you. Thankfully, the older man soon finds himself distracted, and no questions are asked. Not unless you count the silent one that Shawn is asking with his eyes.

-----------------

It's not until a little later that you find yourself alone with Shawn. Niall goes upstairs, to the living room there, after dinner to pick a movie to watch, still quite fond of an old-fashioned DVD, and you stay behind to make some popcorn. Shawn, of course, is in charge of loading the dishwasher.

There's a great deal of tension in the kitchen as your words from before hang in the air, and you watch from behind as he puts the things into the dishwasher. His back muscles flex under his tight T-shirt every time he bends down to put something in, and you have to rub your thighs together. The microwave hums, and the kernels start to pop as you eye Shawn, leaning back against the chair behind you.

“You're watching me,” he states and turns to look at you. Of course, he's smirking. “Like what you see?”

“Hmm, maybe,” you tease, deciding to make this even more fun. Maybe it's dumb to even go along with this. You know you should probably shut him down, but this has been a long time coming, and you will never forgive yourself if you give up this opportunity. “I mean, I've seen better.”

Shawn tilts his head, arrogant smirk still playing on his lips. “You sure?”

You squint as he slowly approaches you. “Are you always this cocky?”

“Only when I have reason to be,”

“And you do now?”

Shawn comes to a stop in front of you, right as the microwave beeps. You're frozen to the ground, unwilling and unable to move. Your bodies are maybe a bit too close, and it's actually hard to breathe, every breath of yours shaky and laboured.

“Yes,” he confesses, his fingers stroking your upper arm. “‘Cause you think I'm hot.” Busted. You can’t let him win, though. Resting your hand on his hard chest, you smile.

“Well, how cocky am I allowed to be, then?” you retort, meeting his confused eyes. “‘Cause you think I’m hot too,” When Shawn blushes profusely, confirming your suspicions, your smile just grows even wider. “Thought as much.”

He gulps and bites his lip. “Y/N, I-” He doesn’t get to say more.

“You guys ready?” Niall says, walking into the kitchen, and you and Shawn jump away from each other, hoping to get as much distance between you as possible. Your heart starts to race with the thoughts of what Niall will say, but he is too busy staring at his phone that he thankfully doesn’t take much notice of the situation unfolding in front of him. “I picked a movie. I think you’ll like it.”

And then Niall finally looks up, but you and Shawn are far apart, looking perfectly decent. There’s no reason to suspect a thing.

-----------------

It’s hard to focus on the movie when you’re sat right next to Shawn who keeps glancing your way, meeting your eyes with sin in his own. Upstairs, it’s slightly colder, and therefore you’ve picked up a few blankets, something you’re very grateful for.

Because when your hand purposefully finds its way onto Shawn’s thigh, the blankets over your bottom halves manage to cover it up. There’s no covering up the surprised gasp that leaves his mouth, but when Niall looks at him questioningly, he just excuses it as a cough.

“You’ve been coughing a lot tonight,” Niall asks, and the worry he feels for his friend is more than clear. It almost makes you feel a little bad, but when Shawn blushes anew, you can’t help but feel just a bit pleased with yourself. “You’re not sick, are you?”

“No, no,” Shawn protests, and as your fingers trace circles into his skin, pushing a little at the hem of his gym shorts, the flush on his cheeks only deepens into a dark red. He gulps. “Just had to cough, that’s all.” And with that, Niall’s attention goes back to the TV.

Shawn’s shallow breaths are a good indicator of the effect you have on him. You revel in how his eyes screw shut every time you venture a little too close to where he really needs your touch, his hand on yours urging you to continue. You play with the idea of actually giving him what he wants and putting an end to your teasing, but you’re having too much fun to stop, and with Niall right next to you, it doesn’t seem like the best idea. That’s a decision you come to regret, though. Because when you pull your hand away with a confident, shit-eating grin, Shawn is quick to get revenge.

The first thing you feel is the tips of his fingers tracing circles on the side of your thigh, and you know exactly where this is going. Payback time. You don’t dare to take a look at him, keeping your eyes fixed on the screen in front of you.

A shaky breath leaves you when his hand moves to rest on the top of your thigh, and when Shawn squeezes your skin ever so slightly, you have to bite your lip to keep a whimper from escaping. You hear the small chuckle that comes from him. He knows what he’s doing to you.

A heat is definitely pooling low in your stomach. A part of you is praying for him to give you some relief, but you know it’s not likely - not after your teasing. From your calculations, you figure that there is still a whole hour of the movie left, and you sigh. It’s gonna be a long hour.

The movie ends just before midnight, and you can honestly say that you’ve only understood about 10% of it. You and Shawn have not been playing nice, and you’re terribly worried for your underwear, surely soaked by now.

“Great movie, huh?” Niall says as he gets up to take it out of the DVD player. “What did you think?”

“Uh, yeah, it was…” you stutter, forcing a smile, meeting his eyes. “It was good.”

Niall tilts his head, squinting. “You okay, sweetie? You just seem a little… off,”

You gulp. “Just tired, that’s all,”

“Yeah, maybe we should head to bed,” Shawn suggests, his tone even more suggestive. Oh God, yes. No matter what happens now, you need to be in private. “I’m pretty tired too.” Niall agrees, and so do you.

You’re not tired in the slightest, though. You’re quite the opposite. You and Shawn’s little game has left you on the edge, and you’re practically bustling with energy. It’s endlessly funny to watch Shawn as he gets up, leaving the cover of the blankets, and tries to conceal the tent in his shorts. Niall, thank God, remains oblivious.

Soon, you’re all walking to your rooms, and you bid each other goodnight. Niall’s master bedroom is in one end of the house, whereas the rooms you and Shawn are occupying are on the same hallway in the other end. The distance between you and Shawn’s rooms and then Niall’s makes you feel a little safer.

Niall wouldn’t notice. It’s this thought that goes through your mind when you stand in the doorway to your room, and you turn to look at Shawn in the doorway of his. There’s a look in his eyes that is hard to decipher, and, for a moment, you consider asking what it means, but then there’s a noise from the living room, distracting you.

“Sorry, guys,” Niall says, chuckling to himself, and he picks something up from the coffee table. “Forgot my phone.”

When Niall has gone back to his room, you decide to do the same. Biting your lip, you give Shawn a look too. You both linger in your doorways for a few moments before you enter your rooms.

-----------------

Just about an hour has passed since you started getting ready for bed, and you're wiggling around on your mattress, trying to get comfortable, but you know very well that, even if you wanted to sleep, it wouldn't be possible.

There's a distinct ache between your thighs, and it needs relief. Your fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear. Shawn hasn't tried to get in contact, and you're almost at your breaking point. You need relief.

But right when you're about to dip your hand under the elastic, a thought crosses your mind. What if Shawn's doing this right now too? It's enough to make you clench involuntarily, only furthering the ache. Making a hasty decision, you throw the covers off and plant your feet on the floor. You're going to walk down the little hallway and knock on his door. Damn the consequences.

You've only just exited your room and shut your door when you hear another door open. Just down the hallway, Shawn emerges from his room, and then your eyes meet.

Whatever confidence you had before has left you. Had it stayed, you would have marched right up to him and kissed those pretty lips of his, but it's different now. None of you say anything, but, almost subconsciously, you both start to approach each other. It's slow - agonizingly slow, to be honest, but you do end up within touching distance.

“Can't sleep?” Shawn asks in a whisper, and there's a certain breathlessness to his voice that tells you all you need to know. When you shake your head, he swallows. “Me neither.”

The ache you're experiencing is not helped by the sight of his bare torso, barely visible in the dimly lit hallway. It's visible enough to have you rubbing your thighs together. He catches the movement, and you're expecting a smirk, but what you get from him is more like a whimper.

Even Shawn looks surprised by the sound. It’s hard to see much, the only light coming from your room, but you can see how his cheeks redden. Without a word, you lift your hand to rest on his chest, feeling the soft patch of hair there. He sucks in a sharp breath at your touch.

“Do you want this?” you whisper, establishing eye contact, and you pray that he’s down for this because you need him, and you might just cry if he turns you down. “Do you want me?”

“Oh my god, yes,” Shawn answers, the words rushing out from his mouth. “I want you so bad.”

You give him a coy look. “Then take me,”

Shawn doesn’t hesitate. He pushes his mouth on yours with such passion that you actually stumble back, but he has lightning reflexes and places a strong hand on your back to keep you from falling. The hand manages to press your bodies flush together, no space left between them.

His other hand cups your cheek, a delicate touch compared to how you're kissing. You're unsure of what to do with your hands at first, but they end up gripping his shoulders, trying to get him impossibly closer. It's not that you can't already feel almost every bit of him, though. There is an unmistakable hardness pressing against you, and if you weren't in a fucking hallway, you would have dropped to your knees by now.

Shawn doesn't seem to care much about the whole hallway thing nor about the fact that Niall could walk out and see the two of you at any time. Instead of leading you to one of your rooms and to privacy, he guides you backwards until your back thuds against the wall. The whine is impossible for you to keep in when he detaches his lips from yours.

Moving his hands to under your ass, Shawn squeezes a little. “Jump,”

You eye him skeptically, but he seems confident in his ability to carry you, and you're confident in his confidence. So you jump.

You wrap your legs around him, but he holds you up as if you're as light as a feather. Shawn doesn't go back to your lips, yet you don't complain. Because shortly after, his mouth is on your neck, kissing and licking - no biting or sucking, though. You would have no chance of hiding the hickey that that would leave behind. Your fingers have tangled themselves into Shawn’s curls, and when you pull on them, impatient, he gets the clue and tears himself away from your skin. Instead of giving you what you want and kissing you, he shakes his head slightly and smiles.

“Oh god,” Shawn says, still quiet. “Niall’s gonna kill me.”

Sighing, you roll your eyes. “Don’t mention Niall right now,” It’s bit of a mood killer, really.

Shawn raises his eyebrows, his expression undeniably cocky. “Giving me orders now, baby?” That gives you an idea.

“Yes,” you answer with no hesitation, seizing control. “Yes, I am,” You tug on his curls with more force than before, and he hisses. The atmosphere changes. You can feel it. The ball is in your court now. “Your room.”

Shawn is more than pliant. He carries you, only putting you down when you’re inside his room. He leaves you for a moment to close and lock the door, but then he’s back. It is different now, however. He doesn’t reach for you or try to kiss you; he awaits your command. So when you tell him to lie down on the bed, he does it in an instant.

He’s left the lamp on the nightstand on, so you’re able to see much better than in the hallway. You can so clearly see his flushed cheeks, his toned abs and his brown eyes, darker than usual. You can so clearly see the way his lips part when you crawl onto the mattress and between his legs, sitting back on your knees.

“What do you want, Shawn?” you ask as you run a finger up his thigh, and your tone is deceitfully sweet and innocent. You’re fully expecting him to beg for your mouth or hands around him, but he takes you by surprise - and not in a bad way.

“I wanna taste you,” he tells you, voice shaky and absolutely wrecked. “Want you to sit on my face.” Fuck. You have to fight to keep a whimper from leaving your mouth. How can you possibly say no to that request? It takes a fair bit of manoeuvring, but you manage to pull off your teeny-tiny, exposing shorts and your underwear, leaving you in nothing else than your camisole. You tug his grey sweatshorts off, and his already prominent bulge just becomes even more prominent when he’s just in his boxers. Unconsciously, you lick your lips.

You crawl up his body, but you don’t waste any time, going straight for his face. Settling over his face, you shiver when his hands come up to grab ahold of your thighs. Shawn stares up at you, wanting reassurance that he’s allowed to touch you, and you nod. In fact, you might just die if he doesn’t touch you. That may be an exaggeration, but it doesn’t feel that way to you.

You pull your camisole over your head, and that leaves you naked. Shawn’s eyes widen, and you don’t even think he’s aware that he’s moving his hands until they’re cupping your breasts. You don’t tell him off for not asking for permission, though. You’re far too consumed by the fire that his touch ignites inside you. When his thumbs brush against your nipples, you emit a keen noise that you can’t even believe comes from your own mouth.

Shawn groans beneath you, and when you glance down, you see the conflict in him. His eyes flicker from where his hands are to your dripping heat. You know he wants to please you, but it seems he can’t decide on where to start. So you decide for him.

You move his left hand down, back to the back of your thigh where he grips your flesh, bringing you closer to where he needs you. When you lock eyes, it’s almost overwhelming. There’s a hunger in them, yet he still waits for affirmation that he can go on. Such a good boy. You nod.

And then his mouth is on you. You moan, and Shawn groans. There’s a relief in it for both of you. His tongue runs up your slit, spreading you out so he has better access to all of you. You desperately need something to hold on to so you grab the headboard of the bed. His fingers pinch your nipple, just as his tongue touches your clit for the first time, and you gasp, rocking your hips against his mouth.

The noise that leaves him can’t be described as anything else than a growl, and the vibrations from it are utterly thrilling. Shawn’s other hand comes down and grips your other thigh, and he pulls you even closer, even further down onto his face. You’re almost worried that you’re drowning him, but, to be fair, he seems quite happy to drown.

Everything you’ve dreamed of for these last two weeks is coming true. Shawn wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. Instinctively, one of your hands reaches down and goes into his hair, running through it. He almost moves into your hand, almost like he’s seeking your touch. He really is fucked for you.

“So good for me,” you purr. “So good.” The praise seems to please him; it seems to encourage him further. His tongue definitely becomes a little more forceful and pushes down on your clit with even more pressure than before. The pleasure shoots through your body, and the fire within only intensifies.

Several hours of teasing has left you sensitive, and when his lips close around your clit again, you’re made aware of just how close you really are. God, what is this boy doing to me? Shawn doesn’t seem to have a particular method to his actions; he just eats you out like he’s been starving, lips and tongue everywhere, licking and sucking. It’s kind of rushed, but oh dear God, is it good. And, besides, you really don’t need him to go slow.

His hands travel to your hips, and you understand his hint when he pushes you a little away from him. He comes up for air, and it’s such a sight to behold when you look down at him. The area around his mouth is absolutely covered in your juices, glistening in the light from the bedside lamp.

“You taste so good, baby,” Shawn pants, placing a few kisses on the inside of your thighs. “So sweet,” Your hand strokes his curls, all tousled and unruly from your treatment. “Wanna make you cum.”

You can’t resist a smirk. “Make me, then,”

Shawn curses under his breath, and then he can’t hold himself back anymore. Hands still on your hips, he begins to guide you back and forth, effectively making you grind against his tongue, making you ride his face. You have to hold back the cries that are so close to leaving your lips, knowing very well that you can’t be too loud.

You’re so close, and Shawn is doing his very best to please you, to push you over the edge. It’s like he keeps trying to pull you closer, although he’s already buried in you. He’s groaning and moaning against your pussy, clearly finding some kind of pleasure in this too. You’re trembling and shivering with every touch of his tongue, and you’re panting, mumbling barely coherent encouragements. You can feel it building inside you, that release you’ve been aching for. It builds and builds and builds, right until you can feel yourself right there at the edge of the cliff. And then you dive in.

There are no words to describe the feeling that courses through your body when your orgasm hits you. Words like mind-blowing, sensational and extreme all come to mind, but they’re simply not enough. You honestly have to hold back your noises because you know they would be far too loud. You can’t keep in a gasp of his name, though.

Shawn leads you through your release, slowing down gradually so you can come down. His hands gently stroke your skin in an attempt to calm you down. You’re still catching your breath when you start to move down his body, settling on his thighs, your own thighs still shaking with the aftershocks.

“Good boy,” you praise, and you catch how his cock twitches in the confinement of his boxers where his precum has created a small wet spot as well. “Such a good boy. All for me,”

He nods desperately. “All for you,”

Shawn seems to get the hint when you crawl up a little further up, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. When you press your lips to his again, you’re still very much able to taste yourself. You’re not complaining, though. You deepen the kiss, your tongues meeting, and the taste of you is so strong on his that you actually moan into his mouth.

You don’t even mean to do it, but your hips grind down against his, and he moans right back. The friction is almost too much to bear for your sensitive sex, yet you need to feel it again. You grind against his clothed cock, feeling how hard it is for you.

Shawn whines when you draw away from his mouth, taking his bottom lip between your teeth before you let go completely. He doesn’t whine when you begin placing kisses down his neck and move further down, your kisses following. You pause for a few moments when you reach his abs, and then you lean in and lick a stripe up his six-pack. His muscles contract underneath your touch, and you enjoy how he makes this strangled noise in response, obviously having tried to muffle himself.

Upon reaching the waistband of his boxers with your kisses, you smirk. “Such a good boy deserves a reward, don’t you think?” He doesn’t answer, but you’re not surprised. He probably doesn’t want to be presumptuous. When you snap the elastic waistband against the skin of his stomach, he lets out a startled moan, and then he seems to understand what you’re asking him to do.

“Please, baby,” Shawn begs. “Please, just… please.”

Accepting his plead, you crawl back until you reach the end of the mattress, You keep eye contact as you move down to the foot of the bed and down to the floor, sinking to your knees. You yank on his one leg the tiniest bit, but he understands. Soon after, he’s wiggled down to where you want him, and Shawn sits up. He clearly wants to watch. He helps you to remove his boxers, and your mouth actually fucking salivates at the sight of his cock springing free. You don’t often call things perfect, but his cock certainly is. The perfect size, the perfect color, the perfect everything.

Shawn quite eagerly kicks off his underwear, desperate to be rid of them. He stares down at you, and you stare up at him. He’s leaking from the tip quite a lot, but that only makes your job easier. You don’t even have to spit on him or in your hand; he’s already lubricated himself enough. You maintain eye contact when you wrap your hand around him, and it’s almost amusing to watch how his eyes flutter, fighting the urge to close.

You tsk-tsk. “Keep your eyes on me, Shawn,”

It’s a challenge, and you’re aware. You want to challenge him. You run your thumb over his tip, spreading the precum over the length of him. He inhales sharply at your touch, and it makes you smile. You like knowing that you have an effect on him. His hands are gripping the edge of the mattress, fingers digging into it.

“Y/N,” Shawn says, voice shaky. “I’m not-” He’s interrupted by a hiss from his own mouth when you touch his tip again. “Not gonna last long.” You appreciate the honesty, although you’re not surprised in the slightest. You’ve practically been edging him for hours now.

You pump a few times, revelling in his responses, before you lean in and press a kiss to his tip. His chest is heaving, his lip between his teeth, and he’s visibly struggling to hold back his noises. You kiss down to the base of him, and you take a second to consider what to do next.

You’re in a mood to make him suffer a little. And when you lick from base to tip, he definitely suffers. He whimpers, his knuckles turning white. You make sure to keep eye contact the first time you wrap your lips around his cock. He lets out this gasp in response, high-pitched and a bit too loud, and it only makes you want to go further. You keep your hand wrapped around him, and when you start to bob your head, your hand follows the rhythm.

The sounds of your movements are absolutely obscene, and you suspect it all looks just as obscene. His cock is warm and heavy on your tongue, his precum a bit salty. Sucking dick is usually not something you enjoy, but Shawn makes it more than enjoyable. His reactions are encouraging, gasps and moans and whimpers all revealing just how good you’re making him feel.

You can see how he struggles not to lift his hips and thrust into the warmth of your mouth. Had this been a different situation, you might’ve let him fuck your face, but you’re in control now. You want to take this at your pace.

Not that you have any intention of going slow, to be honest. You even let one hand go down to his balls, making sure to stimulate him even further. It takes Shawn by surprise, though. He loses control for just a moment, and his hips move up. The accusatory look you give him when you pull out for air has him apologizing in an instant, and you soon return to business as normal.

You become sloppier towards the end, something that he seems to like. He screws his eyes shut, but you don’t bother to chastise him because you know he’s getting to where you want him to be, and you can’t blame him for not being able to control his body right now. The bobs of your head begin to quicken, your saliva coating him thoroughly, and you just know he’s approaching his release. His cock is twitchy, his breathing is unbelievably unsteady, and the words that leave him are unintelligible, although you can hear that he’s trying to say something.

Shawn does manage to get something out. “Gonna… gonna cum,”

His warning is a nice gesture; it gives you time to pull off him. But you don’t. He’s been so good for you, and he deserves a treat. You only pull away the tiniest bit, resting his tip on your tongue, while your hand keeps pumping what used to be in your mouth. His one hand finally lets go of the mattress to cup the side of your face, and it’s an oddly cute thing to do.

When Shawn cums, he almost shouts out a curse, and it’s far too loud, but you really don’t care. You take everything he gives you, and it’s only when he jerks a little away from you that you let him go. He watches you swallow, and the sight seems to be a smidge overwhelming. He groans and falls back against the bed, covering his face with his hands, his chest heaving and all flushed. Shawn only removes his hands when you’ve crawled up, and you’re face-to-face again.

“Y/N, I… fuck,” he pants. “That was fucking insane, holy shit,” You giggle, stroking a few curls away from his sweaty forehead. “C’mere.” He brings you closer, and his lips find yours. To be honest, you’re kinda impressed. He definitely isn’t too touchy when it comes to tasting himself.

“So…” you begin when he releases you again. “Is performing still better than sex?” He raises his eyebrows, giving you a shit-eating grin.

“Hmm, yes,” Shawn answers and laughs, and you scoff as if truly offended. You know he’s playing with you. “Well, I didn’t get to hear you scream for me,” He smirks. “And when I perform, I usually have thousands of girls screaming for me.”

You roll your eyes. “Honestly? I could have screamed. But Niall would’ve heard, and I have the feeling I’d have to attend your funeral, then,”

Shawn playfully shrugs. “Would’ve been worth it,”

“Speaking of Niall, though,” you start, getting off the bed. “It’s been fun, but I should be going back to my room. Can’t be found with you in the morning, you know?” There’s a sort of sadness to Shawn when he nods and watches you get your clothes back on. “Goodnight, baby boy.”

-----------------

The next morning, you wake up with a grin on your lips. Thinking about what happened last night almost makes you ache again. You get up, and while you’re getting ready, the grin falls off your face. You can’t be sure what it’s gonna be like to see Shawn again. You don’t know what he’ll say. You can’t believe you even care, but you do.

So it’s with a slightly erratic heartbeat that you enter the kitchen a little later, but to your surprise, the only person you find there is Niall, cooking breakfast.

“Morning!” he greets and offers a smile. “Sleep well?” You feel the heat travelling to your cheeks at his question. If only you knew.

“Uh, yeah… yeah, I did,” you answer, and then you make a bit of a show of looking around the room. “Where’s Shawn?”

“Oh, he left for the studio about an hour ago,”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Niall replies and shrugs. “Said he found some inspiration during the night,” Oh god. “Dunno what he meant, but good for him. He’s been looking for it for quite a while.”

You know exactly what he meant.

-----------------

@sauveteen @peachnpomegranate @yellowitsmendes @me-a-hopeless-romantic @couple100miles @rishlo @bluerroses @nervousroses @shavvnmcndcs @crxssourbones @ashwarren32

#mine #text #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes smut #did i include a reference to one of my fave movies in this??#yes... yes i did

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thinkyoureholy · 4 years

Text

Fragile Figures [12]

[a/n: Kangjoon is who I imagine when I think of Kanda. I've mentioned before that Kanda is an OC of mine and Seojoon is the closest to how I think he'd look like irl. Also this chapter is mostly in Kanda’s P.O.V]

Pairing : Choi San / [Fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Character Death?, Mafia! AU, Hired Assassin! AU

Words : 2.2k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9. Pt 10. Pt 11. Pt 12. Pt 13.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

[Warning: There are mentions of domestic abuse so read at your own discretion. It doesn’t go into too much detail but I still felt like I had to tell y’all beforehand]

-Kanda’s P.O.V; 4 Years Ago-

“Kanda!!!!” I looked around for the source of his voice.

Once I spotted him a grin spread across my face as I knelt down to his level. He jumped right into my waiting arms, hugging me tightly around the neck while I hugged him just as tight. I groaned playfully as I stood up, looking over his shoulder at the woman approaching us with a small smile on her face. I returned the smile, leaning down so she could give me a kiss on the cheek.

“How’ve you been, Ma?” I asked, trying to help Shoyo climb onto my shoulders.

She gave me a weary smile, a frown making its way onto my face at the sight of it. As soon as I got a good look at her I could tell how tired she was.

“I’m fine, sweetie...just a little tired is all.” She said, hooking her arm with mine as she pulled me into step with her as she began walking.

I felt Shoyo place his hands atop my head as I held onto one of his legs with my free hand to make sure he doesn’t fall, “Are you taking your medicine?”

She averted my gaze, her eyes looking out ahead of her, “We don’t have the money for that right now. Besides, Sho is about to start school soon and I want to buy him everything he-”

“Your medicine is more important than anything!” I shouted, cutting her off, “What are you doing with the money I’ve been giving you? I give you more than enough to buy your meds and buy Sho whatever he needs.”

She said nothing, her legs stopping as she just stared at the ground. I stood next to her, setting Shoyo down and watched him run to the playground a few feet away. My eyes followed after him for a moment before looking back at my mother.

“I work hard so you and my little brother can live comfortably. I give you more than half of what I make and what? You’re telling me you’re skipping out on buying your meds so you can buy Shoyo school supplies. Do you know how stupid that sounds? I’m not buying that bullshit, not anymore. I’ve kept my mouth shut for years but your condition has gotten worse over the years because that sick excuse of a man you keep at home.”

“He’s your father-”

“I don’t give a damn what he is! That man has never been a father to me, for all I care, he's just a sperm donor! All he does is drink his days away and do this!” I yelled, reaching out to grab her hand, pulling up the sleeve of the arm she had been trying to hide from me this whole time, her bruises coming into view, “I left to try and give you and Sho what you deserve, not to give that drunkard more money to feed his addiction! The only reason I’ve haven’t knocked his teeth in is because you’ve begged me time and time again not to but there’s only so much I can take! I swear the moment I find any of these bruises on Shoyo’s body I’ll kill that bastard myself. When the hell are you finally going to leave him??”

She looked away once more, pulling her arm away from me, “I can’t just leave him Kanda. You’re father...he needs me.”

“Sho needs his mother. When are you finally going to see that the relationship you have with that man is toxic? When you turn up dead? When Shoyo is left without his mother? When ma?” I asked, exasperated.

For as long as I could remember that man had been beating my mother over the simplest of things. He picked up drinking when I was five and since then his anger issues had gone from bad to worse. Back then it was just my mom and I but then she had Shoyo five years ago, a year before I left home. I had even considered staying to try and protect the two of them but I couldn't stand another second in that house. If I had stayed there I would've surely killed the bastard the next chance I got.

"Kanda I'm handling it. Y-Your father he's going to change I...I know he is I just gotta give him some time." She mumbled.

I sighed out in frustration, poking at the inside of my cheek with my tongue, "Ma-"

"Kanda come play with me!" Shoyo called out from the top of the slide.

I looked over at him for a quick second before looking back over at my mother, "This conversation isn't over."

…….

-Present Time-

To think that'd be the last conversation I would have with my mother. I looked down at the locket she had given me when I first moved out of that house, opening it to see a picture of her and Sho smiling widely. I felt a sad smile tug at my lips at the sight of the picture. I can’t believe it’s been four years since my mother was taken from this world and my baby brother was kidnapped. I had been assured his safety but I hadn’t been able to see him in person yet. They would send me pictures and videos of him to assure me that he was alive and I got to speak to him on the phone every week but I...I was still on edge.

“Kanda they’re here.”

Alex’s voice brought me out of my thoughts. I jumped off the windowsill and made my way over to where they were waiting. I walked into the living room expecting only the two that I had known about, but what I saw had my heart stop. I could feel my legs grow weak at the sight of him, unshed tears clouding my vision.

“Sho…” I whispered under my breath, catching the attention of the boy who was now nine years old.

He went to take a step towards me, looking as if he was going to run into my arms like he used to when he was younger but the man that was with him put a hand on his shoulder. I looked up into his eyes, glaring so fiercely that if looks could kill he’d be dead ten times over. He smirked, a glimmer in his eye before he let his hand fall back to his side, letting go of Shoyo. Once his hand was off Shoyo ran for it, crashing into my arms. I held him tight, noticing how much taller he had gotten, he had grown at least half a foot, maybe even more. At five the top of his head reached up to my hips and now at nine he was able to bury his face in my stomach, the top of his head reaching my bottom rib.

“I wanna go home, Kanda.” Shoyo whined, tears in his eyes.

"I know Sho and I want to bring you home but just wait a little longer, okay?"

He frowned, bowing his head in disappointment, muttering under his breath, "I miss mom…"

Those words tugged at my heart strings. Shoyo needed his mother more than anything and to know that I couldn't do anything to bring her back angered and saddened me. I know that what happened was out of my control and if I had been there I wouldn't have been able to do much. My family had been targeted because of what I do to earn money, the ones who killed my mother and kidnapped my brother were the ones who forced me to betray the only one I've ever loved and the people who were like family to me, it was either them or Shoyo.

"I'm sure she misses you too, little man." The blonde man said with a knowing smirk.

I grit my teeth, stepping in front of Shoyo, "You have no place in this conversation, you bastard."

He simply smirked, the woman next to him placing a hand on his shoulder, "We didn't come here to provoke him, Kei."

"C'mon Kiri I'm just trying to have a little bit of fun.” He teased, the smirk on his face growing into a grin, “Why don’t you tell the kiddo to go play in the other room while we have a nice chat, huh?”

I glared at him, clenching my hands into fists at my sides, “Sul take Sho to the back room, I’ll call for you when we’re done.”

I kept my eyes glued to Kei as Sul made her way over to us. I was forced to tear my gaze away from Kei when I felt Shoyo tug at my shirt. I looked down at him to see the frown that he had on his face had deepened. I furrowed my brow and knelt down to be eye level with him but just looking into his eyes I knew what the problem was. I sighed out softly, placing my hand atop his head and ruffling his hair in an affectionate way.

“It’s okay, Sho, it’ll only be for a little while.”

He looked down for a moment before nodding, turning to Sul without a word and let her lead him out of the room. Once they were gone I addressed the two ‘guests’, my gaze hard as I glared at them.

“What is it you wanted to discuss? I’ve been doing what you’ve asked-”

“And we’re happy you’ve been cooperating but there’s a job we need you to do,” Kiri interrupted me, pulling out a picture from her pocket and turned it so I could see it, “He’s an old friend of yours isn’t he?”

My face paled at the sight of the man in the picture but I masked the emotions that had managed to peek through, “What do you want with him?”

“The boss has some unfinished business with him but I’m sure you know as well as the rest of us that it’s just an excuse on her part. She wants him on her side. We know he has no family he cares deeply for that we can use as leverage so we need you to convince him to join us.” Kei explained, taking a seat on the couch, “She’s noticed how close he’s gotten to Y/N and as you know very well our boss isn’t fond of that bitch so hurting her in the process is a nice bonus. I have a feeling it’ll hurt more than when you betrayed her.”

I set my jaw at his words, the fire in my eyes intensifying, “Why not just kill her instead of taking the long way?” I asked, thinking back to when I asked San to get rid of her, going behind their backs to do so.

“It’s more fun to see her suffer...don’t you think? Being dead on the inside hurts so much more than actually dying. Dying is too quick and permanent but knowing that those you trust more than anything in the world betrayed you without some much as a second thought, that kills your very soul and that--that is a pain that lingers a lifetime.”

“What if he refuses?” I asked, ignoring his words.

He smirked, a devilish look in his eyes, “Then threaten to kill her...that should get through to him, right? We’ve got information that tells us he’s grown...very fond of her. I’m sure that if you tell him her life is on the line he’ll be like putty in your hands.”

“Use any means necessary just make sure he stays alive. If you do this she’s agreed to let your brother see you in person more often. I think she said three or four times a week.” Kiri spoke up, drawing my attention to her.

I felt my heart lurch in my chest, a lump forming in my throat at their offer. They’re doing it again, using my brother to get me to do their bidding...and like so many times before...it’s working. San...I’m sorry but you’re going to have to switch sides whether you like it or not.

-San’s P.O.V-

I felt a chill go down the length of my spine, a bad feeling coming with it.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, brows furrowed as she reached out to place her hand on my arm.

I turned to her, shaking my head, “Nothing...I just had the chills for a moment. Wait, don’t change the subject. We were talking about you. Isn’t it too early for you to be moving around?”

“San...I’ve been on bed rest for three weeks. If I have to sit around and do nothing for another day I swear I’ll go crazy.” She argued in exasperation.

I smiled softly, knowing exactly how she felt but I couldn’t help but want her to stay on bed rest for another few days at least. I knew it wasn’t going to happen, I was lucky I even managed to convince her to stay still for so long. But now with this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach I wanted her to rest up some more. I don’t know why but I couldn't help but shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen...and soon.

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oranjis-shipping-mess · 3 years

Text

ABC Challenge~ Jihan M is for Mine

"Hey, Han. I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie tonight?" Joshua asked over the phone. Finally planning on making a move on the older. "Actually, Seungcheol is also coming over to watch a movie. But i'm sure he won't mind if you join. You've met before, right?" Joshua painfully thinks back at the night in the club, when he was there together with Jeonghan, and happened to run in to Seungcheol, who was a bit too touchy towards Jeonghan, for Joshua's liking. "Ya, we've met." Joshua confirmed. "Great. Will you be at my place around 8? We can order some food if you want." Joshua sighed, he really didn't want Seungcheol to be there, but he really wanted to see Jeonghan, so he agreed anyways.

That night, Joshua arrived at Jeonghan's place, Seungcheol was already there as well. Jeonghan had already ordered food for the three of them to share, as they did in front of the tv.

Time passed by slowly, as Joshua stared at the tv. He could hear Seungcheol whispering things in Jeonghan's ear, he just couldn't make out what it was, but whatever it was, it made Jeonghan giggle and Seungcheol chuckle lightly in response. The whispers continued as it suddenly fell silent. Joshua looked to the side, seeing their lips pressed against each others, making Joshua feel sick to his stomache. "Sorry, I need to go." Joshua groaned, getting up to grab his jacket. "What? Joshua?" Jeonghan quickly got up from the couch, following Joshua to the door. "What's the rush? Thought you wanted to watch a movie together?" The younger gave an apologizing look, "sorry I uh, I totally forgot I had to help a friend out. Catch up later?" He rushed, already making his way outside. "Call me tomorrow?" Jeonghan suggested, but wasn't sure if he heared as Joshua was already walking away.

Joshua rang Soonyoung's doorbell, not even sure if his friend was home. "Shua?" Soonyoung questioned as he opened the door. "What's up?" Joshua shrugged as he tried to hold back his tears. "Hey, hey. Come in, what's going on?" Joshua followed his instructions, making his way inside. "I don't know, its stupid." He sniffed, annoyed at his own feelings. "Didn't your evening with Jeonghan go well? I thought you'd be there till late?" Joshua found a spot on Soonyoung's couch. "Ya. that was the plan, till fucking Seungcheol started making out with Jeonghan." His voice cracked as he still clearly picture it in his head. "Damn, Shua. Are they a thing now?" Joshua shrugged, "I don't know. Jeonghan never mentioned it. It just kind of happened in front of me and now I feel sick and I don't know if I can face him again." Soonyoung sat down next to the older on the couch. "Ofcourse you can. You will. You need to find out if they are official, and if they aren't, then you still have a chance, Josh. Kick Seungcheol's ass and show Jeonghan that he should be with you instead. From what I've seen, he really likes you." Joshua wiped away his tears. "Maybe."

A few days later, Joshua agreed to go to a club with Jeonghan. He had already figured that whatever was going on between him and Seungcheol, it wasn't official. Joshua had dyed his hair white and was wearing a lose shirt above ripped jeans. He met Jeonghan at the club, greeting him with a hug. "The white sure looks good on you, Josh." The older complimented. "Thanks." Joshua smiled, sitting down by the bar. "Were you okay the other night? You seemed a bit off, I tried to call you, but you didn't pick up." Joshua downed a shot, "ya, I was fine. Just forgot I had to help a friend out." Jeonghan nodded, "alright, lets see who can down the most shots in one minute?" Joshua nodded, accepting the challenge they had done before.

It was 1am, both were already as drunk as could be. "Hannie, you look really attractive, you know that?" Joshua mumbled, tripping over his own words. Jeonghan giggled, "ofcourse I know, I'm not blind." They both fell in laughter and looking at each other made it even worse. Getting up, they were close to each other. So close, that Joshua could feel Jeonghan's breath against him. Looking in to his eyes, he only hesitated a second before he pressed his lips against Jeonghan's. Jeonghan didn't even flinch as he kissed back, wrapping one arm around Joshua's waist and one through Joshua's hair. Joshua had never before felt so funny inside, it made him smile in to the kiss. "Since when do you randomly kiss people?" Jeonghan whispered against his lips, "Hm, this is not really random.." Joshua bit down on his bottom lip, looking in to Jeonghan's eyes. "Why didn't you make a move earlier?" Joshua shrugged, "I was afraid you would push me away, and then these couple of nights ago-", "Seungcheol." Joshua furrowed his eyebrows, "yes, Seungcheol. It really hurted to see the two of you, and it made me realize-", Jeonghan shook his head, "Seungcheol." He said as he turned Joshua around to face Seungcheol. "Good evening to the two of you." He said, eyes red, refering that he too, had already plenty of alcohol in his system. "Jeonghan, I didn't know you were going out tonight. You having fun?" He asked, wrapping an arm around Jeonghan. "Ya, I've been with Joshua all night, its been very pleasant so far." Jeonghan smiled, looking at Joshua, who was not very pleased with Seungcheol's presence. "I missed you, Jeonghan." Seungcheol whispered against Jeonghan's neck, before locking their lips. Jeonghan was quick to push the older away, "Seungcheol, i'm sorry, Joshua and I-", Seungcheol frowned, "you didn't have a problem kissing me these days ago." He stated, forcing Jeonghan in to another kiss. "He said no." Joshua spoke, pushing Seungcheol away from Jeonghan. "And what do you have to say about that? Don't you have to help a friend out again?" Seungcheol groaned, facing Joshua. "You can't just throw yourself at someone when they tell you to back off." Joshua said, moving closer. "I know for a fact that Jeonghan loves my lips, as kissing is not the only thing i'm good at." At that moment, Joshua lost it, fist at Seungcheol's jaw before he could even think it through. Seungcheol bounced back, almost losing balance, but not letting Joshua get away with this. Seungcheol was quick to move forward and punch Joshua in his stomache, making him cough and groan in pain. "Hey! Both of you!" Jeonghan screamed, trying to get in between the two boys. "Stop it, ya?" He warned, looking from Joshua to Seungcheol. "Look, this could have been fun, but apparently the two of you don't get along. And since its already late, i'm going home. And you, you are coming with me." Jeonghan ranted, frustrated that the night had to end like this. He grabbed Joshua's arm and made their way out of the club, leaving Seungcheol frustrated and alone.

"Jeonghan!?" Joshua whined, trying to losen the grip on his arm, finally having Jeonghan let go. "You didn't have to punch him, you know?" Jeonghan sighed, as they made their way to Jeonghan's place. "He started it." Jeonghan rolled his eyes, "how old are you? Five?" Joshua tried to keep up with Jeonghan, who was walking rather fast for someone who had such an amount of alcohol going through his veins. "Han? Are you still mad?" Jeonghan struggled with unlocking his door, finally getting them inside. "Mad? No. I just can't believe you were about to fight Seungcheol." Joshua frowned, "Jeonghan, he was clearly crossing a line when you told him to stop and he didn't." Jeonghan sighed, "so why don't you tell me how long you've had a thing for me? We were interrupted and I really want to know, Shua." They both sat down on the couch, feeling hot from the alcohol, still. Joshua looked at Jeonghan, "since the day we met." Jeonghan raised his eyebrows in suprise, "you could have told me, or atleast dropped hints?" Joshua scoffed, "for real? Jeonghan, you had a different guy almost every week! How the hell would I fit between there? I'd rather stay silent and have you as my friend then get you for one night and then be shoved away like some trashbag." Jeonghan got up from the couch, clearly offended by Joshua's words, "excuse you? Yes, I like affection, but I don't sleep with someone else every fucking week, Joshua. I'm not some fucking slut. If that's what you think I am, then I suggest you to leave, now." Joshua also got up again, "if you had paid attention to me, you could have known." Jeonghan rolled his eyes, "so its my fault now? Atleast I don't come up with lame excuses like 'helping a friend out'. The reason you left was because of Seungcheol kissing me, wasn't it?" Joshua started to feel like the world was spinning around him. "How would you feel if the person you loved for ages was kissing someone else in front of you!?" Jeonghan looked straight in to Joshua's eyes, "love?" Joshua started to feel even more dizzy, not sure if it was the alcohol or realization of what was going on. "I should go home." He answered, turning around to get his jacket again. Jeonghan was quick to move, grabbing Joshua's arm, to turn him around. "Not this time." Jeonghan pulled Joshua close, leaning in, locking their lips in to a sloppy kiss. Joshua relaxed under Jeonghan's touch, giving in, making his legs go weak.

The next morning Joshua woke up from the sun shining on his face. He shook his head, confused. Jeonghan was laying on his lap, still asleep. What Joshua mostly wondered was how they fell asleep on the floor in the livingroom, something he couldn't remember as his head was hurting too much. He groaned, trying to move slightly, so the sun wasn't directly in his face anymore. "Fuck.", a cracky voice from below suddenly spoke, getting up and quickly making his way the bathroom. Joshua looked slightly confused, till he heared the sounds coming the other side. Her carefully got up, head still pounding. "You need something?" Joshua spoke softly, standing in the doorway. "Yes, I need this hangover to go away." The older moaned in frustration. "I can go home, so you can rest." Joshua offered as Jeonghan wiped his face with a wet cloth. "I uh, I actually would like it if you stayed?" Jeonghan walked over to Joshua to pull him in for a hug, burrying his face in the younger's chest. "Ofcourse. Anything for you." Joshua said, kissing the top of Jeonghan's head softly. "I can't believe you're letting me stay after last night." Jeonghan chuckled, "shut up, don't ruin the moment now." Joshua smiled, locking his hand with one of Jeonghan's. "I could get used to this.." he whispered, leaving a kiss on Jeonghan's forehead. "Well, you might have to, because i'm not letting you go anywhere any time soon."Jeonghan groaned, feeling dizzy, making his was back to hover over the toilet once again. Joshua stroke Jeonghan's back, "maybe you should go to bed and rest a little. I can make you some tea." Jeonghan nodded in agreement. "Will you join me?" Jeonghan's voice cracked from all the coughing. "You're not letting me go anywhere else, so I don't think I have a choice, really." Jeonghan pushed Joshua's shoulder. "Facts." He tried to hide his smile as he made his way to his bedroom.

Joshua had made some tea with milk for both of them, and some crackers with cheese, hoping Jeonghan would atleast try to eat something. "Thank you." Jeonghan whispered as Joshua put everything on the bedside table. "That's alright." Joshua smiled, finding a spot ln the bed as well. Jeonghan snuggled closer to Joshua, which was nothing like him, but he just felt the extreme need to cuddle. Joshua carefully handed Jeonghan his tea. "I'm sorry for what happened last night." Joshua apologized. "Hey, drop it. I'm glad you're here, and that you told me." Joshua stoke Jeonghan's hair softly, "and i'm glad you didn't push me away." Joshua said, glad that after everything that happened last night, he now had the boy who he loved for so long already, resting against his chest, not planning on going anywhere.

#oranjis-shipping-mess #Jihan #Jeonghan #Joshua #Jisoo

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